Daphne Greengrass had a plan. That was not a new development, she has had it ever since coming to Hogwarts. It was one of the reasons she had been sorted to Slytherin, and she took pride in the fact that it had gone through the war without needing to be changed. For more than seven years, she had stayed in the background and perfected her reputation as Ice Queen, the unapproachable beauty who always watched from the shadows l. So when she would eventually pick the best catch at Hogwarts, the most beneficial match for her and her family, he would be stunned by the fact that she had chosen him. At first, Draco Malfoy had looked to fit her requirements, but when his father lost the Dark Lord's favour, she switched her interest to Theo Nott. His family had been more prestigious, even if their coffers could not compete with the Malfoys. Then came the Battle of Hogwarts, and suddenly there was a new star.

Granted, if one were to look at the Greengrass accounts, they would find a lot of generous donations to the Dark Lord, one did not buy the appeal of neutrality cheaply. And their estranged uncle who became a Death Eater was actually her godfather, but those details did not matter. The war was over and done, now all she needed to do was to find a way to ensnare Harry Potter, and to do so before anyone else could get her paws on him. Even Bulstrode was looking for an angle, although she had to be delusional if she thought that she stood a chance.

"Oi Tracey, do you have a minute?"

"What is it Harry?" the girl asked without looking up from her book. They were in the Hogwarts library, but even after months of repairs, the room looked different than it had before the battle, a lot of its charm was lost forever. In seven years, they had talked maybe five times, but given that he could not remember her face in any episode with Malfoy or Parkinson, he gave her the benefit of her first name, and she seemed to return the favour.

"Do you know what happened to your housemates?"

"The war happened. You know, the tall bald bloke with scary eyes and - "

"No, I mean, why do they keep staring at me like I'm a piece of meat? It's giving me the creeps, you know."

"What?"

"Whenever Bulstrode, Moon or Greengrass are in the same room, they don't take their eyes off me. They are worse than Vane when she was plotting to slip me a love potion. Even Parkinson is undressing me with her eyes, and she wanted to hand me over to Voldemort a few months ago."

"Well, you see, when you defeated the Dark Lord, you made quite the stir," Tracey explained, which drew a snort from Harry. "A lot of what used to be good prospects are now dead or in prison, which makes you the most interesting person around."

"It's more pureblood politics, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Great, just what I needed. With Malfoy, Nott and Zabini in Azkaban, I would have hoped to have a year of peace and quiet here, now I have to deal with Malfoy as a girl, trying to get a beneficial match with me."

"So you know something," Tracey said, her voice a lot softer than it had been.

"Don't sound so surprised, Susan tried to teach me all about high society, but to me, it sounded like stuck-up twaddle."

"Your girlfriend was giving you etiquette lessons?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"No? Then what were you doing on your knees in the broom cupboard in the Charms Wing?"

"You saw that?"

"Your silencing charm sucks, you know. And you can look through the keyhole."

"Susan cast it, but she might have been a bit distracted - "

"You don't say?"

"Look, Susan and I have an arrangement - not that kind," Harry quickly added when he saw the spark of recognition in Tracey's eyes. "We are just friends who occasionally give each other a hand."

"Or a tongue?" Tracey quipped with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yes, amongst other things. But a gentleman does not kiss and tell."

"You were doing a little more than kissing."

"Yes, you already said that much. Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"That you had Bones' pressing your face into her cunt? That's not blackmail material, that's something you could brag about. Judging by the sounds she was making, you did a good job there as well."

"So why do you keep bringing it up?" Harry wanted to know, his cheeks rapidly approaching the shade of a ripe tomato.

"Because it is fun to make you squirm, especially with such a trivial matter. I would have thought that after slaying a dark lord, you would be much harder to tease."

"What? How is that related to anything?"

"What are words from a girl you had a few classes with compared to the worst wizard Britain has seen for centuries?"

"It does seem a bit silly if you put it like that."

"Good that you have come around to my point of view. So what does she taste like?"

"W - What?" Harry asked after what felt like an eternity, his brain refusing to process her words until she burst out laughing.

"Oh Merlin, you should have seen your face. As if I had drowned your puppy right in front of you," Tracey said between giggles.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack or are you just trying to see if you can make me grey before I leave the library?"

"Don't worry, if I wanted to know how your girlfriend tasted, I would try it fresh from the source," Tracey stage-whispered and burst into giggles. "Merlin, your face. Have you never thought about witches' witches?"

"Well, yes, but I didn't know - "

"Don't worry, I have never licked the cauldron. Doesn't mean that I have never thought about it. Bones wouldn't be too bad to try a few things with, she's quite the looker and has an ass I could knead for hours - You're thinking about that right now, aren't you? Trying to picture me with your girlfriend - "

"You know, I can't tell if you are joking or not," Harry cut in, his face completely red.

"I will let you in on a secret, neither can I."

"How come that your housemates are all weird about me and you are making filthy jokes?"

"I have a brother who will inherit, so unlike Pansy or Daphne, I'm not the one who has to continue the line. Under normal circumstances, my parents would be looking for a match for me, but the war created quite the surplus of witches."

"There's not enough wizards?" Harry asked, suddenly alarmed, which only drew another giggle from Tracey.

"There are not enough wizards whose family tree looks like a potato plant."

"What?"

"You know, the best parts are in the ground - it's actually quite the insult in certain circles."

"Aren't you part of those circles?" Harry wanted to know with a pointed look.

"No, I have a grandmother who is a half-blood. That made sure the Davis family received a lot fewer invites from those kinds of people."

"I'm sorry - "

"I'm not. Their meetings are utter wastes of time and just a giant wank about how old and great their families are, all coated in ridiculous customs."

"What?"

"You know wanking, right? So imagine - "

"I know about that," Harry admitted through gritted teeth, his cheeks flushed pink. "It's just - weird to hear you talk about everything that way."

"Not what you expected from a Slytherin?"

"No, to be honest, no."

"I'll let you in on a secret: Slytherin was never a nice place. You don't have friends there, you have allies and acquaintances with similar goals. I have to thank you for shaking things up a bit. Certainly got the suitor hunting off my back for a few years."

"Eh, you're welcome, I guess. That is definitely the weirdest reason someone thanked me after the war."

"I could certainly think of another way to thank you," Tracey whispered, her voice rough and yet alluring. Looking at the short brunette, Harry's patience snapped and he decided that the only way he could get her to stop would be to make her put her money where her mouth was.

"Alright, there's a Hogsmeade trip next weekend."

"Wait, what about your girlfriend?" Tracey asked, suddenly serious. For the first time giving him her full attention without a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

"Susan is not my girlfriend. She has made it very clear that we could never be an item because she is the last of her line, as am I. And as little as I usually care for that pureblood shit, I don't want the Potters to end with me, I owe that much to my parents. Susan feels the same about her family, so we are at an impasse."

"So that broom closet?"

"We can't marry, so she does not want attachments. That doesn't stop us from giving each other a hand, but it's nothing more than that."

"I see," Tracey said slowly. "Do you want to go out with me because you want me to rub myself in your face or because you want to rub it in my housemates' faces that they aren't getting you?"

"Well, I would not have put it that crassly, but it's certainly part of the appeal. If this hypothetical date goes well, I can rub that in their faces - and you can rub something in mine," Harry replied, surprising himself that he did not stutter. "But you are cute and fun to be around, even if I wish that a hole would open up and swallow me whole."

"You know, my family might not be the richest, but I expect more than a broom closet."

"I am sure we can find something more prestigious in Hogsmeade," Harry said as his voice cracked. Still, a smile spread over Tracey's face and for the first time, her cheeks were flushed.

"Smooth. Now run along, going out next Saturday won't write this essay for Flitwick."

Daphne Greengrass was seathing, not that anyone would be able to tell from the smile which was frozen in place on her face. She was at her best friend's wedding, and she was not even a bridesmaid. That honour had gone to Granger, Lovegood, Weasley, Bell and Andromeda Tonks of all people. The disgraced daughter of Black was a grandmother, so how could she be a maid while Daphne was stuck in the fourth row next to her sister and Parkinson? Why was the old woman wearing a dress which would have been scandalous for a 17th birthday when she was nearing fifty? And how could Susan Bones have the spot of honour on Tracey's side, especially with all those rumours about her and Potter floating around?

No proper pureblood witch would have accepted such an arrangement if they had secured a marriage with Potter. Granted, Bones needed someone to continue her line, but that should not be something she made blatantly obvious. Nor would Daphne have looked at Bones as if she was torn between admiring the dress and wanting to tear it off the redhead, as ridiculous as the thought was. But her friend had changed a lot since the war. The company she kept had certainly dropped its standards when even Granger was invited to a union of such ancient lines. After three years of courting Tracey, she would have expected that Dumbledore's golden boy would have learned what his station meant and that it came with certain expectations.

Truth be told Daphne missed the old days when life had been easy at Hogwarts. Just the two of them, staying out of the spotlight as Draco and Potter had another go at each other. Things had been simple back then. But her supposed friend had stolen her prize, the final piece in her plan. That was something Daphne could never forgive, that Tracey forced her to look for a husband amongst the likes of Terry Boot and Zacharias Smith.