Author's Note: Hello, thank you for reading my story. I greatly appreciate HonorverseFan taking the time to edit this chapter. Your friendship and suggestions are a constant source of inspiration.

I own none of the rights, nor make money, nor gain fame, or anything else from Harry Potter.

Cheers.

Chapter 3: Friends and Foes

The day was bright, even if a chill was creeping into the air. Sunlight filtered in through slate-gray clouds with holes large enough to send beams slanting crazily across the Hogwarts landscape.

Students milled about at random on the lawns, soaking up the sun while they could. Before the cold set in and sent them scurrying to their common rooms seeking crackling fireplaces and mugs of hot chocolate.

It was, perhaps, one of the last days warm enough to lounge about outside. But that wasn't the day's only significance. It had taken a few weeks or so of cajoling, but finally Daphne relented. Allowing her worries and fears to be set aside so that the bravery he saw buried within could rise to the fore.

He refused to allow that courage to be for nothing.

"Hermione, Ron, this is Daphne." Harry gestured to the girl standing beside him nearly vibrating with anxious excitement. She'd confessed to being clueless at making friends. An admission he didn't tell her was unnecessary. The girl's social ineptitude was on near constant display. But, he'd answered her interrogations about Ron and Hermione easily enough, helping her 'prep' for the meeting. He'd even bitten off laughter when she begged him to act like Ron or Hermione so she could practice her greeting.

It went about as he expected.

His friends blinked at him and then at her, alternating the targets of their wide-eyed stares. Finally, Ron broke his shocked silence.

"Greengrass? As in Slytherin?" His attention fixated on the green-tinted edges of Daphne's robes.

Hermione simply shrugged.

"Yeah, she's…" he sought the right word, "nice."

"But Harry-"

"Oh hush, Ron. Harry dislikes Malfoy just as much as you do, so if he's alright with her then you should be too."

The redhead sent her a mutinous glare but his mouth remained closed.

Harry looked down at the tug on his robe cuff, Daphne's fingers gripping the hem tightly. He offered her a wry, resigned grin and an eye roll of exasperated support.

With a breath, his newfound friend pulled out her board and began to trace words of greeting with her wand. As she concentrated, Harry looked up to mouth the words 'she's deaf,' to his friends.

They both looked at him uncomprehendingly so he repeated the exercise only to say aloud, "what am I doing?" He shook his head at his own foolishness before repeating his message loud enough for the two to hear.

Hermione's eyes instantly softened, whereas Ron just looked sort of confused. At that point, however, Daphne completed her words and flipped the board around so the others could see.

"Hello, my name is Daphne Greengrass. It is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope we will get along."

"I'm sure we will," Hermione replied with a sure smile.

"Er, right. Definitely," came Ron's response, at Hermione's unsubtle elbow prod.

Daphne positively glowed.

"She can hear the voice too," Harry interjected, wanting to get the information out there. "And, she can help us get inside the Slytherin common room when the Polyjuice potion is finished."

"Merlin, Harry. Did you tell her our favourite Chocolate Frog cards too?"

"Don't be a prat," Hermione grumped, "this is a good thing. We didn't have much of a clue how to actually get in, this saves us lots of trouble. She can probably even get us the hairs we need." The witch's eyes narrowed, "wait, she can hear the voice? How does that work?"

Harry shrugged, motioning to Daphne so she could relay their findings. She'd been closely watching the lips of everyone speaking and jumped at the chance for inclusion. The three waited patiently as she scrawled, and Harry took the time to glance meaningfully at Ron who nodded his head in resigned acceptance.

"Headmaster Dumbledore believes Parseltongue, as a magical language using vibrations, can be heard regardless of auditory capability."

"Fascinating, I wonder if anyone has researched such a topic?" Hermione shook her head, "I doubt it. Parselmouths are quite rare, as are deaf wizards and witches. Likely, no one has even found such a correlation before."

Daphne nodded her head enthusiastically, her friendship with Hermione all but assured at this intellectual meeting of minds. She bent to scribble again, writing, "I believe the same. I've been taking notes, perhaps you could look them over?" A hopeful, vulnerable light flared to life in yellow-green eyes.

Hermione breathed life into that burgeoning flame. "I'd be delighted."

Before the girls could continue their conversation on esoteric matters, Ron interrupted. "But if she's a Parselmouth and can hear the voice… doesn't that mean it's a snake?"

Harry blinked. Hermione gasped. Daphne gave a little jump in place.

"Blimey, I'm not a total troll you know," the redhead muttered.

"Oh my goodness, how could I have been so stupid!" Hermione exclaimed. "It all makes sense, we had the pieces all along but just hadn't put them together. But what kind of snake could be considered the 'horror within the chamber?'"

Flipping the new information around in his head, Harry almost missed the movement to his side as Daphne turned her board around.

"There are ninety-eight species of magical serpents. But the most feared is the Basilisk."

"The Basilisk?" Hermione questioned. "I'm unfamiliar with that."

"I've heard Bill mention it a few times but I don't know much," Ron admitted with a shrug.

New words appeared on Daphne's board. "There is a book, maybe the library has it, that my father owns. That is where I read about them, though I don't remember much."

Hermione leapt to her feet. "Do you think you can help me find it?"

At Daphne's nod, the girls swept away, leaving the boys to watch their retreat. Right before they turned the corner, Daphne glanced back to beam at Harry, as excited and jubilant as he'd ever seen her.

He didn't have time to revel in the feelings that expression of joy inspired within him, because Ron muttered next to him, "a Slytherin, really?"

"Give her a chance, mate. She's a nice girl. I don't think she's treated well by her House either."

"I've never seen her speak in class or in the Great Hall so, I guess you have a point."

"C'mon Ron, I'd think you'd be happy."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because Daphne might finally give you a challenge in Wizard's Chess." Harry grinned at Ron's intrigued expression. "She trounced me as bad as you ever have."

"Well that isn't saying much," Ron replied in a smug, teasing voice. "You're ruddy terrible."

XXXXXXXX

Madame Pomfrey had not been happy. She'd tsked and prodded his mangled arm in a way that bespoke her foul temper. Nevertheless, she'd given him all the care and salves he could stomach before turning to the other patients.

Harry felt woozy from the potions that had been stuffed down his gullet, but he supposed being alive and nauseous was better than eaten by the Basilisk living under a girl's bathroom.

Hermione and Daphne had finally, after months of searching, found the book with passages on Basilisks. Unfortunately, their time to prepare or tell a teacher had been circumvented when Ginny disappeared down into the Chamber of Secrets.

The ensuing chaos had been hectic and Harry was still utterly flummoxed as to how he'd survived. Or why a sword came out of a hat.

Regardless, his time in the Hospital Wing was so familiar as to be comforting. Although, the presence of his friends made the time go much quicker, he'd found.

Ginny, luckily was none the worse for wear. Though she still seemed a tad pale and cold.

Ron was loudly asking if dinner would be brought up to the Hospital Wing but was otherwise okay.

Hermione had landed poorly into the Chamber's opening and sprained her ankle. She was mainly cross with herself for having missed the chance to see the 'historical find of the century.'

Daphne was… well, physically fine. Her mother had arrived that morning when news broke out about what had happened. Professor Dumbledore had sent out letters to the families of those involved attempting to shed more light on the subject, which had prompted the storm known as Mrs Greengrass to descend upon the Hospital Wing.

He'd not been able to hear much outside of shouting through the closed door of Madame Pomfrey's office, which she had lent to Mrs Greengrass so she could have a 'private discussion with her wayward daughter.'

Daphne had not come out for a long, long time. When she did, evidence of tears stained her cheeks but her face was once more in that emotionless, numb state he'd first recognized their first year.

Before he could get up to comfort her, Mrs Greengrass had changed targets from her daughter to him.

"Mr Potter," she spoke his name like it was a vile thing, like each syllable tasted rancid in her mouth. He'd never believed he could hear his name said with more malice than the Dursley's could provide, but his expectations were trumped. "Leave my daughter out of your theatrics. She's a dull thing but as heiress Greengrass her life is spoken for. You and your," spiteful eyes roved across Hermione and Ron's affronted faces, "friends, are ill-suited company."

Harry saw the words swimming in her eyes, 'blood-traitor,' 'mud-blood.' His hackles rose. "Daphne is not dull," he replied, voice shaking, "and my friends saved the school."

"A lack of parents to teach you manners doesn't excuse you from speaking back to me." She sniffed. "Leave my daughter alone or I'll take measures into my own hands." With her message delivered, the woman spun on her heel and swept from the room.

He'd seen little of Daphne's likeness in the woman. She had the same angular face, and curly hair. But that had been the end of any similarities. Even the hair had been ruthlessly combed and pinched back in a tight bun. She was all cold glass to her daughter's merry fire.

His eyes searched the Hospital Wing briefly before landing on Daphne, who had trudged back to her bed and was drawing the curtains.

"None of that," he muttered, hauling himself up to his feet and wearily making his way over.

She paused at his arrival, but looked away meekly, unwilling to meet his eyes. Whether it was because of her mother's orders or embarrassment, he wasn't sure. Didn't particularly care.

"Don't listen to her," he urged in Parseltongue. "I don't know what all she said in there," he flung a finger to point at the office door, "but you're my friend. And I don't know how we could have done this without you."

"Yeah, you're my friend too." The exclamation was surprising enough that it caused Harry and Daphne to jolt, her eyes widening at the message conveyed by Ron's lips who stood slightly behind Harry's shoulder. "And your mum seems a right hag."

"Way to ruin it, Ron," Hermione chided, coming up to stand next to Daphne, gripping her hand. "But he's right. You're our friend."

Daphne's eyes burned with an indecipherable heat. Her face held the same awe he'd first witnessed when she'd heard sound for the first time.

She took a deep breath as though preparing herself. "Tahnk yuo," her voice warbled but came out strong.

Those two uttered words, so trustingly given, rocked the three Gryffindors. The reactions of his friends made him certain of one important thing. Daphne was not alone anymore, would never be again.

The smile that blinded him showed that she had come to the same conclusions he had.

XXXXXXXX

The rest of term passed excruciatingly slowly, time sluggish after all the terrified excitement. The rumors had finally died down about him being the villainous Heir of Slytherin, but new rumors had begun to spring up at his group's inclusion of Daphne.

Suddenly, the girl who had been practically forgotten by her house was in the spotlight. The Slytherins who had ignored the 'defective' girl were irate that she'd gone elsewhere for company.

Ron had punched the first Slytherin in the mouth who had uttered the 'defective' remark. Hermione had reprimanded him as he received a detention from a passing professor but Harry could tell her heart wasn't in it.

Most of the quartet's time was spent in an abandoned classroom near the alcove Harry and Daphne had commandeered as their own early in the year. It was comfy enough, with a few tidying spells from Hermione, and a good spot away from interested eyes.

Ron and Daphne were fierce chess competitors, neither winning much ground against the other. Hermione also seemed to relish having a female friend, especially one who knew random bouts of magical trivia.

Although he enjoyed watching Daphne slowly come out of her shell, he also felt small nudges of envy at the time he now shared with others. The fascinating, fidgeting creature was no longer all his own, but he shoved those thoughts to the side for being silly. Besides, watching her learn to joke and laugh was an experience he'd never trade away.

Not all was great or easy, of course. Hermione had been horrified to learn that Daphne was failing nearly every subject. The Slytherin wasn't dumb, like her mother seemed to believe, just terrible at practical magic. Her inability to pronounce spells correctly caused serious issues, and her love of strange trivia wasn't exactly helpful information when it came to the Hogwarts curriculum.

So, even though exams had been canceled, Hermione had taken the girl under her wing and been relentlessly trying to tutor the helpless, hapless Slytherin. Daphne took on the role of student easily enough but admitted to feeling fairly embarrassed at the attention and coddling.

He'd continue to talk to Daphne in Parseltongue every chance he got, just to see that wonder cross her face. But she'd been adamant about keeping her ability a secret, not wanting the attention or consequences of such an odd heritage making itself known. So, she kept her board and used it whenever they were away from the secret classroom all their own.

Ron and Hermione had borne the hissing conversations well enough, even if Ron shuddered the first few times, calling it creepy. Whereas, Hermione had been fascinated. Her many attempts at breaking down the language and learning bits and pieces only resulted in laughing fits from all involved.

The time had finally come, however, when his time at the castle was drawing to a close. Summer knocked on the great castle doors, demanding he return to the mundane toil of the Dursleys. His mood had soured with each passing day that it came closer, which was noticed by his observant, quiet friend.

It was on the last day that she finally plucked up enough courage to pull him aside.

"What's wrong Harry?" She questioned with a slithering hiss. "You've been in a foul mood the last week."

He scratched his cheek, unsure what to say. "I'm just not looking forward to leaving. Summer isn't much fun for me."

"Oh," recognition illuminated her eyes, catching the hidden meanings to words he hadn't meant to be so revealing. But, he supposed, she of all people would see through him, in this one thing. "I see." Her lip was chewed on as she pondered. "I'm not excited either," she admitted, "to go home."

No, he didn't expect she would be, given what little he knew of her family.

"Well, I can try writing to you," he offered half-heartedly, "but my relatives don't always let me."

"No," she sighed, "I don't know if I can write you either." She stared at the ground. "I've never written to a friend before… mother would be suspicious and want to know to whom it was addressed."

"Ah, right."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, the first in a while. But Harry's nervous energy was the first to break it.

"I hope you have a good summer, regardless of everything else." An odd heat seemed to be climbing his neck. He didn't want her to be so alone again, knew how costly such loneliness could be. Yet, his own avoidance of his life away from Hogwarts made him unable to speak the thoughts pounding away inside his mind. He wondered if this was how her own words felt, with no one around to hear them. Trapped, caged.

A melancholic upturn of lips. "Yeah. You too." She shuffled a bit, eyes of honey and jade searching his face for something. "You know," she began, her voice tender, "this year has… well, it changed everything for me. Thank you."

He shook his head at her needless gratitude but she pressed on. "You didn't need to stop for me in that hallway," she whispered, "but you did. Now I have friends and a voice. Two things I had only ever imagined. It is a gift."

Harry wanted to tell her how inconsequential his actions had been, how he hadn't intended anything so heroic, but the rebuff died in his throat at the softness in her expression. Her resolve to see the best in him was as shocking as it was humbling. She wrapped around him like silk, covering his shards of glass.

One day, he'd tell her. How much she inspired the best in him.

"I'll see you next year," he replied instead, voice catching slightly as his mind turned over the possibilities.

She rose onto the tips of her toes, giving a small bounce. A grin brighter than spell-light. "I can't wait."

Author's Note: The reception to this story has been shocking, to say the least. I've never received such a rapid outpouring of favorites/follows/reviews before, even on my much longer story.

People must really like the name Daphne! All jokes aside, thank you so much to the community for being so welcoming, kind, and supportive. Nothing is more encouraging than engaged readers.

All the best,

Char