The first Saturday of the school year was cold and wet. Despite the drizzling rain, Harry and Ginny faced a large crowd of students on the quidditch pitch and Harry internalized a long sigh. A lot weren't even carrying brooms and he knew they were only there because of him. He would have to be the bad guy here.

"Listen up! This pitch is booked for Gryffindor Team try-outs," he called, and glared at certain groups of people. "If you are not in Gryffindor house, or do not know how to fly, please leave. Anyone who remains will be reported to their head of house." No one moved. He waited until a fourth year Ravenclaw girl coyly tried to look at him, and barked. "Now!"

She jumped a foot in the air and dashed off the pitch, starting an exodus of well over half the students. He waited impatiently as the last stragglers dragged their feet to the stands, and turned to the Gryffindors who remained. There were still many who could not possibly think they could manage a place on the team, but he had no legitimate reason to make them leave. Besides, he had a plan to weed them out.

"Welcome to Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs. My name is Harry Potter, and I am Captain and seeker. This is Ginny Weasley, chaser and Assistant Captain. Try-outs begin now. Remember, you can leave at any point and there will be no hard feelings," he said, and stepped back. "Well, Ginny. Have at them."

Ginny nodded to him curtly. They had spoken, briefly, the night before about how they wanted try-outs to go, but their tentative, unspoken truce was strained, at best. She turned to the crowd of hopefuls.

"Alright, let's start with a lap around the pitch," she said. Many started mounting their brooms and she frowned. "On foot."

She started jogging and a handful of people followed her, while the rest protested and looked to Harry, who raised his eyebrows and pretended to take notes. Seeing no help coming from him, most of them followed, but a few decided to cut their losses and leave the pitch. A few more couldn't complete the lap and Harry was both satisfied and disappointed that a short jog was enough to foil so many.

Ginny led them in stretches and Harry joined in this time, then he grabbed his broom. "Alright, up in the air," he called and kicked off. He flew a lap around the pitch to warm up and looked back to see everyone had followed. He stopped and directed them to do another lap. He noticed who was shaky or unsure, but there weren't many – flying and quidditch were very popular in their house.

"Split into positions," he called and started pointing. "Chasers and keepers over there with Ginny, and beaters with me."

Harry flew down to where he had set aside Hogwarts' supply of practice bludgers. Nine of the hopefuls peeled off of the crowd and joined him. He winced slightly – not many liked playing beater. Quidditch was a brutal game, and beaters bore the worst of it. Their job was to hit bludgers – iron balls enchanted to fly at top speed towards the closest player – away from their own players and towards their opponents with reinforced metal bats. It required an incredibly solid build and constitution, along with an iron will.

He nodded when he saw Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote in the group – they were his beaters in sixth year and were pretty darn good at it. Seamus also joined the group. He had expressed interest since he had conceded that Dean was a better chaser due to his lifetime of football experience, and he admitted he was a fair beater, but his bigger cousins always made him play chaser in their games. Harry hid a scowl when he also saw Jack Sloper, who had been an emergency replacement beater in fifth year and still seemed barely able to hold onto his bat.

Harry and Ginny had decided to split up the try-outs as they had rightly assumed there would be many hopefuls. Harry took the beaters; seekers tend to work very closely with them. It was the seeker's job to catch the snitch, thus ending the game and winning one hundred fifty points, so removing the seeker from play was a viable and popular strategy. The seeker was often targeted by opposing beaters because, even if they didn't hit, the constant distraction would disrupt their search and chase of the snitch. As such, Harry was very familiar with beater strategies and bludger behaviours.

"Make a circle," he called to the nine flyers, then he released one of the practice bludgers. It accelerated towards the closest person on a broomstick – a somewhat soft looking second year girl – who swung her bat and sent it towards another flyer. "Good! Just volley it among yourselves."

He watched closely as they sent the bludger back and forth. A few people missed their swings and they had to wait as the bludger flew past them and arced back towards the closest flyer. Once, Harry had to jump on his broom and lead the bludger away from the chaser and keeper try-out. Then, Jimmy belted the bludger at Jack, who wasn't expecting the speed and flinched away from the ball. It hit him on the shoulder.

Jack turned and glared at Jimmy. "What're you playing at, Peakes?" he yelled. "Are you trying to knock me off my broom?"

"It's a practice bludger, moron!" Ritchie yelled as he chased the bludger. They practiced with balls that were half the weight of the iron ones they played with in games. They were enchanted to further ignore physics and behave the same as their full-weighted counterparts, but they were much less likely to break bones. They still hurt like hell, though.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. "It was a standard bludger pass, Sloper," he called. "If you can't handle it, stop wasting my time and get off the pitch." Jack scowled but didn't move from his position in the circle. "I'm going to release a second bludger."

He released a second practice bludger from its steel shackles and it flew up into the circle. After a couple minutes all of the hopefuls, even Jack and the lower years, fell into the rhythm of passing and Harry released a third. The three balls were too much for some of them and Jack got hit again, this time in the face. Harry went pale as he hopped on the broom to check on him. The bludger had gotten Jack right in the cheek and his left eye was swelling shut.

"Merlin, Jack," Harry said. "You alright there, mate?" Jack nodded with unfocused eyes. Then he checked to see if his nose was bleeding. Harry frowned. "Maybe you should sit out the rest of try-outs."

Jack shook his head and blinked his eyes hard. "Nah, I'm good," he said.

Harry stared at the sixth-year boy who could not be thinking he was making a good showing, but shook his head. "Alright, Sloper, but I expect you to go to Madame Pomfrey immediately after," he said.

He turned to the rest of the hopefuls. Jimmy, Ritchie, and Seamus had contained two of the bludgers by passing it among themselves, and the others were keeping the last one busy. He ran them through a few more drills to test their flying skills and will to block bludgers. Then, he flew down towards the cases again.

"Oi, Ritchie!" he yelled. "Pass one of those down!" Ritchie, a lean fifth-year with wiry black hair and a dark complexion, nodded and redirected the next bludger that came his way down to Harry.

Harry planted his feet and caught the still-heavy practice ball by cushioning it with his whole upper body. He wrestled it into its restraints where it immediately settled down as its enchantments rested. Harry wiped the sweat that had formed on his forehead and grabbed his broom again. He grinned – time to have a bit of fun with his favourite drill: the beater's bloodbath.

He mounted his broom and flew back to the would-be beaters who were volleying the two remaining bludgers among themselves. "You all seem competent enough," he called and a few of the hopefuls laughed. "So, its time to put you through your paces. This is a standard beater drill – there will be a target in the center of the circle and you'll try to hit it."

Harry waited for the inevitable question, and was satisfied by a third-year boy who had good reflexes but almost no flying instinct. "What's the target?" he asked.

Harry smirked and flew into the center of the circle. "Me," he said.

The boy's jaw dropped but Seamus laughed loudly and hit a bludger, hard, at Harry's head. Harry rolled to avoid it then had to dip to avoid the second bludger that the soft second-year girl sent at him. He grinned at her – seemed she had some killer instinct. Harry continued to dodge around the practice bludgers. He loved this drill, he used to play it for hours with the Weasley twins. The beaters got to practice hitting a nimble and evasive target, and the seeker got to practice dodging bludgers and how to get hit by them.

Jimmy, Ritchie, and Seamus managed to hit him a few times each. Ritchie hit him the most, but he didn't have nearly as much power behind his swings as the other two. Jimmy, despite being a fourth-year and fairly short, was incredibly broad and very strong, and his aim had improved immensely since sixth year. And Seamus may be a small man, but he forced an almost explosive amount of energy into his swings.

Harry called for them to stop after fifteen minutes. He panted and rolled his shoulder – Seamus had caught him off-guard with a particularly vicious hit – with a grin. It was such a fun drill. He looked at the hopefuls. Most looked frustrated that they hadn't managed to tag him. Harry hoped it wouldn't upset them too much; he was very adept at dodging bludgers and had almost been hit a dozen more times than he actually had. Even Jack had almost got him and Harry was particularly proud of that dodge, as he had to let go of his broom mid-flip to avoid the bludger that was about to hit his fore-arm.

He told the hopefuls to grab some water and take five as he and Jimmy restrained the bludgers again. Jimmy joined the other hopefuls. Jack had an ice-pack against his eye and was talking quietly to Ritchie. Harry shook his head and flew over to where Ginny was running an attacking drill with the chasers and keepers.

"How's it going?" he asked. She glanced at him but returned her focus to the drills. She winced as a second-year keeper missed intercepting a slow lob that barely made it through the right hoop.

"No surprises," she said. "Ron is still, somehow, the best keeper in the house." Harry looked over to the line of keepers waiting for their turn with the drill. Ron was speaking with the unfortunate keeper who had just gone, who looked like they were on the verge of tears from their poor showing.

Harry watched as Demi, with her plain brown hair in a tight ponytail, attacked a new keeper with a fourth-year girl. Demi had been on the team previously, and she smoothly accepted a pass of the quaffle and faked to the right, fooling the keeper, and threw the ball hard through the center hoop.

"Still thinking Demi for chaser?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded. "She has the perfect build for the position and a wicked arm," she said. "Dean's also made a good showing. To be honest, no one else is close to the same league." Harry nodded. Dean was a great flyer and he had a good sports sense. He could look at the game as a whole and he was a great guy to have in the locker room. "How're the beaters?"

"Jimmy's a no-brainer," Harry said. "He's got power and accuracy, and he's only going to get better." Ginny nodded. "I'm torn between Ritchie and Seamus, though. Ritchie can hit the wings off a snitch, but there's no strength there, and Seamus is the better flyer."

"Sounds like we should go with Seamus, then," Ginny said. Harry looked at her. "No using hitting something if it isn't going to hurt, and Seamus is good?"

Harry nodded. "I ran a bloodbath and he managed to tag me three times. Ritchie hit me four times, but Seamus's hits still hurt," he said, then shook his head. "I have to say, Sloper impressed the hell out of me." Ginny glanced at him and raised her eyebrows in surprise. "He still can't swing a bat to save his life, but he took a bludger to the eye and shook it off. Insisted on staying in try-outs."

Ginny looked back at where the beaters were resting. "Shame he's useless, we need that on the team," she said.

Harry nodded and checked his watch. Ginny stiffened on her broomstick beside him. Harry was then reminded that his watch – a somewhat ostentatious antique golden timepiece – had been a coming-of-age gift from her mother and had once belonged to her late uncle. Regardless, he noted there was still half an hour left for the try-outs.

"We should have time for a quick scrimmage," he said and Ginny nodded. "I'll collect the beaters and balls."

Harry sat by the locker rooms as he watched the snitchless game the hopefuls were playing. Since there were far more players than positions on the pitch, with each goal both teams fully subbed out and new teams were chosen from whoever was next in line. He took notes of the people Ginny had pointed out and grinned at the teamwork Dean and Demi were displaying when they happened to be on the same line. It was, by far, the shortest time between goals in the game. As well, Ron didn't let in a single goal when he was out, which, in a high-scoring game like quidditch, was a pretty incredible feat. Harry was disappointed by Ritchie, though. He noticed several times that Ritchie would hit a possessing chaser squarely and cleanly and still fail to force a turnover. He would have to go with Seamus, who was proving to be almost excessively disruptive on the pitch. Harry really hoped there wouldn't be too many complaints that three of his four roommates had made the team.

Noon soon approached and Harry took to the air again and blew his whistle. The assembled hopefuls gathered in front of him and Ginny flew over to his side. "Thanks for coming out, everyone," he called. "You all showed grit. You should be proud of yourselves. Hit the showers, the team list will be posted in the common room after dinner."

Harry flew down to the locker rooms, leading a procession of weary quidditch players. He entered the men's locker room and wrinkled his nose in disgust as most of the lower-year boys simply grabbed their stuff and left the room without showering. The tower was going to stink tonight. He took a long, hot shower since he was chilled to the bone from the cold drizzle and his muscles ached from the beater's bloodbath. He went back to the locker room and frowned when he saw Jack talking to some friends.

"Sloper, I told you to go to the hospital wing," he said.

The sixth-year looked at him and shrugged. "It's just a shiner, Harry," he said.

"You took a bludger to the head, mate," Harry said and clapped Jack on the shoulder. "Humour me, get it checked out."

Jack looked like he was about to protest, but nodded and grabbed his things. He hurriedly left and Harry heard Ron laugh. Harry turned around to see Ron getting his things from a locker.

"What?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nothing," he said and looked at Harry hopefully. "What'd you think?"

"You looked real good out there, mate," Harry said and went to his own locker.

Dean nodded from the bench where he was swapping out his hand. "Still can't believe you blocked that one shot when I was attacking you with Bertalem," he said.

Ron's ears went red in embarrassment and he turned back to his locker. It had been a remarkable save during the scrimmage – he had been completely out of position but still managed to reach back enough to get his fingertips on the quaffle and redirect it enough so it bounced off the rim. Dean's linemates had already started celebrating so the resultant turnover resulted in a quick goal against his team.

Seamus walked up to the locker on the other side of Harry, rolling his shoulder. "Oof, I'm going to be feeling this tomorrow," he said and glared at Harry. "How're you so bloody good at dodging bludgers?"

Harry laughed. "I trained with the Weasley twins," he said. Beside him, he heard Ron drop something in his locker.

Fred and George Weasley were Ron's older brothers and, during their time at Hogwarts, had been the beaters for Gryffindor. They had been amazing quidditch players, in addition to being the two funniest people Harry had ever met. Fred had been a casualty of the final battle and it had torn the family apart.

Seamus shook his head. "You're like an idiot savant," he said. "Can't talk to a girl to save your life, but, suddenly, with a broom between your legs, you're a leaf on the wind."

Harry scowled at him. Soon after his conversation with Susan a few days before, he had realized why his familiar was so annoyed with him. Susan had obviously wanted to spend time with him and, in his usual dense way, he hadn't noticed even a little. He had then made the further mistake of despairing at his own idiocy to his roommates, who had very little sympathy.

Harry pulled on a t-shirt and closed his locker. "I'll figure it out," he grumbled and sat down on the bench next to Dean to wait for his roommates.

"Might be a bit soon, too, yeah?" Ron asked. Harry tilted his head questioningly. "You and Ginny are just now good, and I know there's still a lot of things unresolved there." Ron cast a scent-masking charm on his armpits and pulled on a shirt. He looked at Harry. "Maybe you should give it some time before trying anything with Susan."

Harry frowned and scratched his forehead. He hadn't thought about that. Honestly, his thoughts about Susan, and Daphne for that matter, were still very abstract. He hadn't really considered what it would mean to pursue either of them vis a vis the Ginny Situation. He suddenly felt the stabbing cold in his gut again, but this time it seemed to have a nauseous twist to it.

"Not necessarily," Dean said and stowed his game-hand in his bag. He looked at Harry. "I mean, are you really looking for, like, forever right now? Or are you just looking for some fun?"

"Er, I guess fun, but –" he said, and was interrupted by Seamus.

"Then there you go," Seamus said. "As long as she's on the same page, there's nothing wrong with something casual."

Harry frowned. That didn't sound right to him, since he always thought that romance should have romantic feelings behind it. He was aware that people had casual physical relationships, but it was something he never imagined for himself. Then again, he was indulging in more normal, care-free behaviour. He looked to Ron for help, who looked similarly taken aback by the attitude of their roommates.

Harry shrugged. "I'll think about it," he said.

His friends finished changing and grabbed their gear. The four walked back to the castle for lunch, laughing and talking about the try-outs. The light drizzle continued to fall, but none of them thought of casting a rain-repelling charm.

###########

Daphne walked out of the castle on the bright, sunny Monday morning with a spring in her step. Her first week had, honestly, gone better than she expected. Her year away from school hadn't affected her performance in class as much as she had feared. If anything, she was more focused on her academics now than she had ever been in previous years. And, while things were still awkward between the three of them sometimes, she was slowly becoming closer with Tracy and Blaise. She had even gone to support the two of them at Slytherin Team tryouts the day before. Tracy made beater and Blaise easily retained his position as chaser – the rest of the hopefuls were lower years, after all. Harper had been very frustrated by the quality of players and she took some satisfaction in that. Daphne was a bit sad that so much of Tracy's time would now be wrapped up in the sport, though. She had grown accustomed to her roommate's company.

The first years appeared to be settling in alright, though they were still far more subdued and suspicious than any group of preteens should be. She had heard about some bullying but she hadn't seen anything nor had anyone come to her, although, apparently, some of the bullying was coming from the third or fourth year Slytherins to muggleborn first years. She briefly considered going to Slughorn with her concerns but she reminded herself she was not actually a prefect and she had other things to worry about.

For example, she had yet to speak to Astoria. She continued watching her sullen and withdrawn sister from afar, as Astoria refused to stay within twenty feet of her. Astoria had always been far more outgoing than Daphne, and she had enough force of personality to make friends with students from all houses in her year group. But now, Astoria spent all her time alone, and she was out of the castle every morning before breakfast and Daphne could not figure out why. She wished she had spent more time making sure Astoria was okay after they lost their parents, but she herself had been barely holding on by a thread at that time.

Daphne blinked away tears that threatened her eyes and pushed those thoughts from her head. She didn't want to think about that this morning. This morning was her first creatures class. Despite her – misgivings – about some of the beasts Professor Hagrid introduced them to, she truly loved creatures, but she had been too much of a coward to take the class past her OWL. Professor Hagrid had not been popular among her housemates, as he was not only a kind and decent man committed heart and soul to the light, but also the result of the union between a wizard and a giantess. Fortunately, Professor Hagrid had been accommodating towards her wishes to take the class when she asked. Unlike in defence, she knew the material forwards and back, and the humble half-giant had been taken aback by her eagerness to prove her knowledge.

She crossed over a ravine on the newly-rebuilt wooden bridge that connected the castle to the bulk of the grounds. Creatures class was conducted at Professor Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She looked down towards the hut and stumbled when she recognized the dark-haired man with a crow on his shoulder standing by it. She had noticed Potter looking at her a few times over the past week, and she had snuck a few peeks herself. She had held off for several days before asking Tracy if she had a copy of Witch Weekly. Potter was attractive, she had concluded. He was handsome and he had moved past his awkward skinny years to fill out quite nicely. He also decided to groom himself and purchase a wardrobe that actually fit, even if he still dressed a touch on the informal side. In addition, from what she had seen, he smiled and laughed far more readily than in previous years, and she still remembered his awkward kindness during the train ride. She was not opposed to the idea of him having a romantic interest in her.

Her issue lay primarily in the impossibility of such an idea which, nonetheless, had taken root in her brain. Harry Potter was, well, Harry Potter. He was the most eligible bachelor in the wizarding world and, while she knew herself attractive to many, there was a lot going against her. Her actions in previous years were reprehensible, not only to Tracy but to many of the other muggleborn students. She did not even know how to begin to make amends. In addition, her family had, voluntarily or not, funded the Dark Lord's war effort and she imagined there were many who would be outraged at the idea of Potter being with someone with her last name. Potter had no reason to look at her beyond a conquest, and she suspected he did not think in those terms.

She schooled her features and willed her fluttering heart to calm when Potter spotted her and waved with a surprised smile. She allowed a polite smile to grace her features and she approached him.

"Hey, Greengrass," he said. "I didn't know you were taking creatures."

Daphne nodded. "I enjoy the class," she said. "We had many animals on our estate." Harry snorted quietly and shook his head and she blushed. "How are you today, Mr. Potter?"

Potter beamed at her. "Really good," he said. "I got some pictures of my godson this morning."

She found herself smiling warmly at the intensity of his joy. "You have a godson?" she asked. "How old is he?"

"Almost six months," Potter said and, eagerly, pulled out a stack of photographs. "His name's Teddy."

Daphne accepted them and looked at what could be any other picture of any other baby, except that this baby's hair kept on cycling different colours. She looked from the pictures to Potter in wonder.

"He's a metamorphmagus?" she asked and he nodded proudly. She handed back the photos. "That's an amazing gift. Who are his parents?"

"Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin," Potter said sadly. "They died in the battle."

"Remus Lupin?" Daphne asked, aghast. "The werewolf?"

Suddenly, Potter's face lost all of its gaiety and grew still and stern. His green eyes turned steely. "Yes," he said and carefully put the photos away.

Daphne winced and averted her eyes as blood rushed to her face. That was terribly rude of her. She should have realized Mr. Lupin was important to Potter, but the man was a werewolf. He was a monster that only existed to continue his own twisted lineage. She somehow managed to not shudder at the thought of his baby carrying his terrible curse.

"Harry!" someone called and Potter and Daphne looked to see Susan Bones approaching them with a bright smile.

She looked to see Potter was smiling again, but at the pretty Hufflepuff. "Hey Susan," he called. "You're also in creatures?"

The now-blue-haired woman nodded and looked at Daphne in surprise. "Good morning, Greengrass," she said.

Daphne curtsied slightly. "Good morning, Miss Bones," she said.

"It'll be nice to have some company," Bones said with a laugh and turned to Potter. "I was the only one who took it past OWLs."

Potter winced. "I wanted to, but it didn't fit in my schedule," he said.

"Can I ask? Why did you drop defence?" Bones asked and Daphne's ears perked up. She had been wondering the same thing all week.

Potter scratched his forehead and looked to the ground. "Er, to be honest, I don't really want to deal with that stuff right now," he mumbled.

Daphne's heart ached when she looked at Potter. He looked exhausted and so much older than eighteen. She realized he had gone through a lot, but she had never really comprehended how much he must've been subjected to over the years. Then, her heart clamped in a vice when Bones reached out and rubbed Potter's upper arm. He looked up at Bones with a grateful smile.

She smiled back. "Now, where's Hagrid?" she asked and looked around.

Daphne looked around too and noticed that nothing had been set up for their class. She frowned and looked towards the professor's hut, but then saw that both Potter and Bones were instead looking towards the forest. She turned towards the dark woods, wondering why they thought Professor Hagrid would be in the Forbidden Forest before their class.

But they were right, and she soon saw the giant form of their professor make his way surprisingly quickly through the thickly grown trees. Professor Rubeus Hagrid was over eleven feet tall and very broad, with a wild mane and beard of thick black hair full of fairy-locks. However, he had kind, beady eyes and many laugh lines on what could be seen of his face, which crinkled into a smile when he saw them. He rushed over and pulled Potter into a hug which lifted him off his feet. Maeve rose off of Potter's shoulder squawking at the indignity and flew over to a nearby tree.

"Harry!" Hagrid said and squeezed the saviour of the wizarding world tightly.

Daphne could not help a small giggle, which she hid behind a hand. She heard Bones laugh and she glanced over to see the other woman smiling at her. Hagrid set Potter down and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to almost knock him over.

"Hey Hagrid," Potter said, then winced. "Sorry I haven't visited yet."

Hagrid waved an enormous hand. "We both been busy," he said and looked to Daphne and Bones with a smile. "Susan, Greengrass, good to see you." Daphne nodded at him and tried not to be hurt by his use of her last name, despite the fact it was the proper and professional thing to do. "Glad there's a few of us this year, to be honest. There's a lot to do, I could use your help."

"What do you mean, Hagrid?" Bones asked.

Professor Hagrid looked at her and, suddenly, enormous tears started to well in the corners of his eyes. Daphne looked away politely, but Potter reached up and grabbed the professor's forearm.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Hagrid rubbed at his eyes with his other knuckles. "There're a lot of beasts done wrong in the war," he said. Daphne felt tears threatening her own eyes. She remembered the menagerie. "You-Know-Who was a – well, monster don't quite cover it, I say."

"What did he do?" Potter spat. Daphne looked at him in shock.

During the final battle, during Potter's final confrontation with the Dark Lord, a photograph had been taken. It was already one of the most iconic pictures from the war, and it showed Potter much like he looked now. Daphne didn't like the photo – it captured a moment where Potter undeniably looked like a hero and a warrior, but his eyes showed undisguised hate and anger.

Professor Hagrid took a moment to retrieve a cloak-sized handkerchief from one of the many pockets of his coat and blew his nose with a loud honk. "Sorry about tha'," he mumbled and looked at Daphne. "Weren't 'zactly professor-y o' me."

Daphne blinked her watery eyes rapidly. "Take your time, Professor Hagrid," she said softly.

He smiled warmly at her and took a deep, wet breath. "Alrigh', here's the problem," he said. "You-Know-Who and his goons started collectin' creatures and doin' experiments on 'em." Tears gathered in his eyes again and he brushed them away. He cleared his throat. "I volunteered to take some of them in, try and rehabilitate them, but there's a lot to do."

Daphne felt an icy chill run down her spine and harden it. "Sir?" she asked. "Are any from the Greengrass Menagerie?"

Professor Hagrid looked down at her. "Might be," he said and Daphne set her jaw to keep from speaking out of turn. "We don't know where they came from, bastards didn't even care enough to keep track of that."

"Pardon me, but I would very much like to see them, sir," Daphne said and looked Professor Hagrid in the eye. "If there's a chance any of them could be –" She stopped herself and took an even breath. She could not get excited.

Professor Hagrid face wrinkled in thought. "Er, I didn't so much expect this, Greengrass," he said. "They're in rough shape. As you migh' imagine, the experiments weren't pretty. An' they tried to train a few of them to attack on sight."

Daphne struggled to control her breathing as she felt her throat grow tight. She clenched her fists tightly and barely noticed the pain of her fingernails digging into her palms. "Where are they, Professor Hagrid?" she asked.

"Er, I set up some paddocks in the forest," the professor said and looked back at where he had come from. "I was planning on introducin' you to them today anyway, so come on."

He turned and started walking into the forest. Daphne hesitated for half a second – she had never been in the Forbidden Forest before. They had had classes adjacent to the forest and there were woods on the grounds that were not out of bounds. The Forbidden Forest, however, was a dark place full of monsters. But she followed, her animals needed her.

She struggled to keep up with the professor and her classmates. Professor Hagrid walked through the woods comfortably, barely seeming to disturb bushes or underbrush despite his vast bulk, and Potter and Bones were, evidently, far more adept at hiking than she was. After a few minutes, Bones slowed to Daphne's pace.

"Are you alright, Greengrass?" Bones asked.

Daphne felt a stab of annoyance. She did not want or need this Hufflepuff's concern. "I'm fine, Miss Bones," she said, between heavy breaths.

Daphne stepped on a rotten root and it broke, upsetting her balance. She started to fall, but Bones steadied her. She jerked herself from the other woman's grasp and walked ahead. A branch from a fallen tree ripped her tights, and sweat poured from her forehead, but she caught up with Professor Hagrid and Potter, who had stopped on a small crest.

She looked past them to see a large quarry that had been reclaimed by the forest. She wondered vaguely if stones had been mined here for Hogwarts, but her attention was immediately drawn to the many wooden enclosures that filled it. The closest one contained two malicers – small and delicate deer-like creatures whose large antlers bloomed into flowers every spring. One was doing a very good job of balancing on only one front and one back leg as it grazed, and the other had an entirely exposed skull. Tears sprang in her eyes at the pain they must've gone through, but they were not her animals. She looked up at Professor Hagrid, who was looking down at her sadly.

"Like I said, weren't pretty what happened to 'em," he said. "Go ahead and check for your beasties, but don't get into any of the paddocks."

Daphne nodded. "Thank you, sir," she said. "I apologize for my impoliteness before."

Hagrid chuckled and shook his head. "You an' I have a different idea of impolite, I think," he said. Daphne smiled at him, then looked to see Potter and Bones a few meters away talking together.

She pushed her juvenile feelings aside and started looking through the enclosures. There were eight of them, and in each was a magical creature that had been deformed in some way. Many were missing limbs, eyes, tails, tentacles, or wings, and there was even a shell-less fire crab in one small enclosure. In three of the enclosures were large, vicious beasts that attacked the wooden barriers to their enclosures as she walked by. By the time she got to the next to last enclosure, she was on the verge of weeping. None of the animals had belonged to the menagerie, but each was a tragedy to look upon. One of the creatures that tried to attack her was a prudursa, which were known to let themselves get eaten alive rather than kill another creature. Another one was a collection of horns, tusks, stingers and wings attached haphazardly to the body of a mountain lion to create an artificial chimaera. Authentic chimaeras are immensely powerful and intelligent three-headed beasts that had never, in history, been successfully captured or domesticated. Artificial chimaeras, created by a wizard, were far more commonly encountered and were highly illegal and immoral, as the resulting animal was often crazed by pain and confusion.

The next to last enclosure was small looked empty at first glance but, after a couple of seconds, she spotted something small and grey hidden under a bush. She blinked and could make out a canine-like form. Her heart thundered in her throat.

"Apollo?" she whispered. The creature's ears perked up and she could clearly see the lupine head and short, pointed black horns of her fairy-wolf. "Apollo!"

The fairy-wolf cautiously crept out from the underbrush, sniffing the air carefully. Fairy-wolves are small, alpine predators about the size of a loaf of bread with large wings they use to navigate their mountain homes and catch prey. Daphne's eyes widened when she saw scarred, fur-less flesh where his wings used to be, and there was a burn scar in the place of his eye. But this was Apollo, the fairy-wolf that belonged to the Greengrass Menagerie.

Daphne disregarded Professor Hagrid's direction and reached into the paddock. Apollo crept closer, sniffing, then suddenly jumped forward and sunk his teeth into Daphne's hand. Daphne bit her tongue to keep from crying out in pain and started talking softly to the small animal, which had not broken its hold and was shaking its head to try and tear her flesh.

"I'm sorry, boy," she said. Apollo stopped shaking its head and looked at her, suspicious. "I – I didn't know this would happen to you." Tears fell freely from her eyes. "I didn't know you'd be put through so much. I am so sorry."

Apollo released his hold and started to lick the wounds he had caused, which were bleeding. She smiled and reached her other hand in and started petting him, but he cowered away and snapped at her when her hand neared the scars where his wings were. His fur was as thick and soft as she remembered, however, and he still went to puddy in her hands when she scratched that one spot behind his horn.

"This one's yours, then?" Hagrid asked, surprising her. She looked up to see the professor and her two classmates looking at her. She withdrew her hands from the paddock, eliciting a whine from Apollo, and stood up. She brushed the dirt from her skirt. "Surprised he trusts you so much, he bites me whenever I try to touch 'im."

Then Bones' eyes widened. "Greengrass," she said. "Your hand!"

Daphne lifted her right hand and saw four deep puncture wounds from Apollo's teeth bleeding freely. She quickly conjured a handkerchief and wrapped it tightly around her hand, wincing at the pain.

Potter blinked at her. "That looks pretty bad, maybe you should get it healed," he said.

Daphne shook her head and crouched back down to pet Apollo some more. "It can wait for after class," she said, and looked towards the last enclosure, which was easily the largest and looked completely empty. "What's in the last one?"

Professor Hagrid growled in exasperation. Suddenly, a tree within swayed and creaked heavily from an unseen force. "Prob'ly the stupidest thing they did," he said. "They didn't just mess around with magical creatures. In that paddock is an invisible elephant." A leafy branch broke off of a tree and disappeared, accompanied by the loud sound of chewing. "Simple enough to take care of, but we can't turn it back to normal and have no idea what to do with the damn thing."

From there, Professor Hagrid properly started his lecture and they had to move away from Apollo's paddock, though Daphne promised him she'd be back as often as possible. Hagrid took them through the animals in his care, what had happened to them, and how he was trying to help them. It was lot to keep track of and Daphne reassessed her previous thoughts of Professor Hagrid as a jolly simpleton. His previous classes had swung from horrifying to mind-numbing, with the odd gem sprinkled in, but now she could fully appreciate that he really knew the subject matter, even if his perspective was less academic than others.

The class ended with Professor Hagrid escorting them back to his cabin and she walked alone back to the castle. She rushed, both to avoid being around Potter and Bones who were walking together behind her, and to find her sister. Astoria may not want to talk to her, but she would want to know that Apollo was still alive. Astoria loved Apollo – the family had acquired the fairy-wolf five years ago and, as they could not allow him to run free, she had spent many afternoons playing with him in his cage.

Daphne rushed through the Entrance Hall filled with students making their way to lunch and down to the basements. She took one of the faster but more strenuous routes to the Slytherin Dungeons and by the time she reached the blank stretch of wet grey stone wall that was the entrance, she was out of breath and sweating again. She gave the password – perseverance – and entered the common room, panting. She looked around with wide eyes but didn't see her sister. Tracy then mounted the steps from their dormitory and entered the common room. Daphne rushed over to her.

"Tracy, have you seen my sister?" she asked.

Tracy took a step back. "Er, no," she said. "Are you okay?"

Daphne looked around the common room and frantically played with the charm bracelet on her wrist. "I need to find Astoria," she said. Tracy raised an eyebrow inquisitively and Daphne explained. "One of our animals survived."

"One of your animals?" Tracy asked.

"Yes, we had a menagerie," Daphne said and looked around the common room for someone who might know her sister, but couldn't see anyone.

"You had a menagerie?" Tracy asked, then furrowed her brow. "Hold up, what does that mean?"

Daphne shook her head. "That's not important right now. Astoria would like to know," she said.

"Er, it's close to lunch," Tracy said and Daphne looked at her, annoyed at the irrelevant information. "She could be in the Great Hall."

Daphne's eyes widened and she hugged Tracy tightly. "Thank you," she said and dashed out of the room.

Blood rushed to Daphne's face at her sudden and unbidden act of affection, but she could worry about that later. She hurried back the way she came and paused at the threshold to the Entrance Hall. She leaned her shoulder against the doorway and tried to control her breathing. It'd do no good to try to talk to Astoria if she couldn't even speak. Her heart was hammering in her chest as her mind cast back, again and inevitably, to the last time Astoria had looked at her, at the hate in her sister's eyes.

"Er, excuse me, ma'am," said a small voice behind her. Daphne turned around to see a small, sandy-haired Hufflepuff boy with freckles. He looked about twelve or thirteen and flinched when she looked down at him. "Are you Daphne Greengrass?"

Daphne nodded. "I am," she said.

"Er, I'm sorry to bother you," he said nervously. "I just – someone pointed you out to me and I wanted to, er, say I'm sorry." Daphne furrowed her brow. "For your parents', er, deaths."

Daphne felt her heart grow three times heavier in her chest and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Thank you," she said politely. She did not recognize the boy as the child of a family friend or anything. "I'm sorry, but did you know them?"

The boy looked at her and nodded rapidly. "They saved my life, ma'am," he said. Daphne stared at him. "Your parents were heroes."

Daphne continued staring at the boy, then all of her muscles lost their strength and she crumpled to the floor.


AUTHOR'S NOTES

'Sup. In case anyone is wondering, I am doing much better mentally than a few weeks ago. So, you know, don't worry about me.

Also, I think this is the most excited I've been for a chapter since the first one. I realize I write in a fairly slow-paced manner, but it is nice to have some actual plot going on. I don't have this story plotted out, but I do have a mental checklist of points I want to reach in the narrative, and the end of this chapter is the first one I'm excited about. I hope the reveal doesn't come out of nowhere - I tried to allude to it since I decided it'd be interesting after posting the first chapter. I initially planned for the Lord and Lady Greengrass to be exactly what Daphne thought, to the point that I even named them after The Penguin's parents from Batman Returns. But, such is life, I got a different idea that I feel has more story-telling potential. I also hope that Daphne's love for beasts didn't feel arbitrary and forced, but I tried to make her love of the magical world a facet of her character from the beginning.

Hey, have you ever found yourself reading this story and thinking, "Gee, I kinda like this guy's writing, but I really wish that instead of teenage angst he would write about Harry becoming the Master of Death and dragging Daphne back in time to the Chamber of Secrets which ends up destroying the future which he has to team up with Tonks and Hagrid to restore"? Well, that's a really weird and specific thing to think, but I have some good news for you, all the same. A few years back I posted the introduction and first chapter of a story called "Hercules Black & the '78 Trans-Am of Death". It didn't do very good numbers so I quit in a huff. But, I recently decided to revisit it and I have now posted the second chapter. I probably won't update it as much as this story, as it is much more difficult to write, but I'll probably use it as a palate cleanser every so often.

Kisses!

Do not look upon the Hag Queen.