o0o0o0o

The Nature of Purebloods

If the Weasleys, with their muggle relations and crippling poverty, were considered to be at the bottom of wizarding society, then the top of the pile would most certainly include a family called the Greengrasses.

The Greengrasses were an old family. As old, if not older, than many families like the Weasleys. Unlike the Weasleys, their fortune was not in anything as unreliable as farmland. Thus, it was not lost after the Statute of Secrecy, and they remain a powerful family to this day. By chance, this family also had a child starting Hogwarts at the same time as Ron and Harry. A tall, blonde girl called Daphne.

On the 1st of September, Daphne Greengrass did not catch the bus to King's Cross with her parents, nor did she wear any kind of colour that would expose her house allegiance. She was not dropped off by a relative and she did not enter by the muggle way. Instead, she made her way, alone, to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters via the Floo Network, already dressed in her black Hogwarts robes, just as any good pureblood witch should be.

Her father had refused to accompany her, but she didn't mind that one bit. Had her father gone with her, she would have been forced to interact with the children of all the important people he associated with.

Her father had told her that any budding Slytherin like herself had to learn how to find important people on her own, although he had given her pointers on who to look for. She knew that he wanted her to spend the whole train journey with people like Malfoy and Parkinson, but she'd have enough of them once she was at Hogwarts. She would much rather find a quiet compartment on her own, away from the social games that she would soon be expected to play. However, if one of them found her, then she probably wouldn't have a choice but to sit with them.

To that end, she was trying to keep as far away from the people wearing green as possible, hiding amongst the groups of red, blue and yellow. No respectable Slytherin would ever be seen so close to mingling with the other houses, but Daphne had never really been what you'd call respectable. Even so, nobody would ever think to look for her among the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

As she tried to make her way to the edge of the platform, her attention was drawn by some kind of commotion near the entrance to the muggle station. A couple of her fellow first years appeared to have gone through the barrier too soon after each other, and were now lying in a heap next to their luggage, which had spilled out across the floor. The nearby Gryffindors let out enormous shouts of laughter at the sight, and Daphne couldn't help but snigger along with them.

'Looks like I've found this year's Hufflepuffs,' she thought with a smirk.

Thankfully, she wouldn't be sharing a house with people like that. Even the snivelling social-climbers she was likely to meet were preferable to some of the idiots that Hufflepuff attracted.

As engrossed as she was by the plight of the two boys, she nearly failed to notice that she herself was on a collision course with someone as well. She jerked her trolley to a stop and narrowly missed the girl, who was gazing around in wonderment and didn't even seem to notice that she'd almost hit someone. Daphne grabbed her arm and she jumped almost a foot into the air, snapping out of her trance immediately. Daphne opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, the girl had already started speaking.

"I'm so sorry," she said rapidly, "Am I in your way? I'll move, sorry. I don't know what I was thinking- well, I was actually just-"

"It's fine," interrupted Daphne, a little put off by the girls energy, "Just try to watch where you're going please."

"Oh, I am sorry," she continued, "I was just wrapped up in how magical everything was- I mean have you seen the owls- anyway, I wasn't paying attention, but I really should have, but I don't really know where I'm going. You are going to Hogwarts too aren't you?"

Daphne blinked, struggling to catch up with what the girl just said. She had said all of it in one big rush, and yet she didn't even seem out of breath. The girl was slightly shorter than Daphne and had a very bossy sounding voice. She also had so much bushy brown hair that it seemed to explode outwards from the back of her head.

"Um- yes," said Daphne, realising the girl was waiting for an answer, "Are- are you muggle-born then?"

"Yes!" said the girl brightly, "My parents are dentists- do you know what they are? Probably not, nobody at Diagon Alley did. I never thought that wizards would find it so strange- I'm Hermione by the way, Hermione Granger."

The girl called Granger held out her hand out her hand to be shaken. Daphne looked it apprehensively.

'A mudblood,' she considered, 'That's even worse than a Hufflepuff. What would father say if he saw me with her? More importantly, what would someone like Malfoy say?'

"Daphne Greengrass," she said, grasping the girl's hand and shaking it. She felt a thrill of satisfaction at her little rebellion, even if nobody was there to witness it. "What did you mean? You don't know where you're going?" she asked, wondering if this Granger girl had somehow missed the gigantic red steam engine that was sat in plain view.

"Oh, well it's rather silly," admitted Granger, "But I don't really know what we're supposed to do now. I mean the letter just told me to be here, but do we have to hand in our tickets somewhere? Can we just sit anywhere on the train or is it organised by age? Or by house? Are we already supposed to know which house we're in?"

Somehow, this Granger managed to sound enthusiastic even when she was panicking. Daphne had never met anyone like her before. 'Maybe this is just what muggles are like?' she wondered. After all, this was the first muggle-raised person Daphne had ever met.

"Er- no, we haven't been sorted yet," said Daphne, 'Well, you haven't anyway. Some of us were sorted when we were born.'

"Here," said Daphne, "Follow me, I'll help you find a compartment."

If her father would have been furious at her for talking to a mudblood, then she didn't want to think about how he'd react to her walking around with said mudblood. Daphne didn't particularly care at the moment though. She wasn't likely to meet any muggle-borns in Slytherin, so this was probably the last chance she'd get to talk to one.

"Really?" said Granger, looking surprised at Daphne's offer, "Thank you. I don't mean to be a bother but-"

"It's fine," said Daphne sharply. She really didn't want her to start rambling again, "So- uh- dentists? What are they exactly?"

She spent the rest of the walk listening to Granger explain about the muggle teeth-fixers known as dentists. Initially, she didn't pay much attention, but she couldn't help but get drawn in by the energy Granger had when she spoke. Also, it helped that it was actually quite an interesting topic.

'Muggles are weird,' she thought to herself, as Granger explained about the tiny spinning things called drills, which muggles apparently used to make holes in their teeth.

The two girls climbed aboard the train with their trunks and began moving down the corridor, Daphne keeping an eye out for an empty compartment, while Granger kept chattering on. Daphne glanced through a window in the door to her left and stopped abruptly. Inside the compartment, were two huge boys with black hair that took up most of the space to themselves, but they weren't what drew Daphne's eye. In the corner, staring out the window onto the platform, was a boy with familiar silver-blond hair.

"Come on," said Daphne, continuing quickly down the corridor. Luckily, he hadn't noticed them.

'What if he had though?' she thought worriedly, 'If he'd seen me with a mudblood, then my next seven years wouldn't have been very fun at all.'

She needed to ditch Granger soon, but she didn't want to just leave her in the middle of the corridor. Fortunately, her answer came just a few rooms into the next carriage. She spotted a compartment that was mostly empty and peeked inside. The only occupants were two boys in their Hogwarts robes. It was same two who'd crashed into each other by the barrier.

'If I'm right about them being Hufflepuffs,' she thought, 'Then they shouldn't have any qualms about sitting with a muggle-born.'

She slid open the door and addressed them both, "Excuse me, is there a seat going spare in here?"

The two of them both turned to face her. One of them had a long, freckled face and red hair, while the other was small and scrawny, with broken glasses held together by Spellotape and black hair almost as wild as Granger's. The red-haired boy looked suspicious of her, but the other one nodded.

"Yeah, help yourself," he said, nodding to the empty space.

Daphne gave him a quick smile of thanks and moved to side, allowing the muggle-born girl to get past. The two boys stood up to help her lift her trunk into the luggage rack, then they all took seats, with Granger ending up next to the redhead.

"Well, thank you," said Daphne politely, trying to slip away through the door.

"Wait, Daphne. Why don't you sit with us?" asked Granger.

"I have something else I need to do," she said quickly, "It's, er- it's-"

'Come on, Daphne! Think of something she'll understand.'

"It's important," she finished lamely, "I have to- hey!"

Granger had just grabbed Daphne by the sleeve and dragged her into the compartment, so that she ended up sat next to the dark-haired boy.

"No way," said Granger forcefully, "I'm not letting you slip off like that. What did I do wrong? Is it because I'm muggle-born? Or do I talk too much? Am I still talking too much?"

"N-no, it's nothing like that," stammered Daphne, wondering how any one person could be so overwhelming, "It's just that- it's complicated."

"What does that mean?" pestered Granger, "We were just talking. What's so complicated about it?"

"Because you're- I mean, I'm a-" she said, "Oh, why should I even try to explain? You'd never understand."

The girl seemed taken aback by how sharp Daphne's last comment had been. Perhaps it was it a bit harsh, but it was still true. A muggle-born just couldn't understand how this worked. In fact, most wizard-born probably wouldn't understand either.

Up until now, the two boys had just watched the exchange silently, but at this point, one of them decided to get involved.

"I think I understand," said the redhead scathingly.

"Is that so?" replied Daphne coldly, fixing him with a disbelieving look. His robes were far too shabby for him to be from any noble family, so she doubted he'd have any better idea than Granger did.

"Your robes are too well-made for you to be a common witch," pointed out the redhead, "And I can see that crest on your left pocket, that's not a Hogwarts crest. I don't recognise it, but even nobles wouldn't print their crests on the robes of an eleven-year-old. I'd wager you're Sacred Twenty-Eight, and you don't want to be caught talking to a muggle-born, do you?"

Daphne blinked in surprise. 'That's- entirely correct. How did he do that?'

"What's a Sacred Twenty-Eight?" asked the other boy.

"The twenty-eight pure wizarding families," explained the boy, "Most of the old families married muggles over the years, but there were twenty-eight who refused to, because- well, for lots of reasons. Most of them don't think very highly of muggles, or muggle-borns for that matter."

Daphne scowled at him. 'How does someone like you know so much about the upper class of wizard society?'

"Those are very old robes," she noticed, her scowl slowly morphing into a wicked grin, "Probably hand-me-downs aren't they?"

The redhead visibly gritted his teeth and his ears began to turn red.

"Red hair, can't afford new robes and can recognise a Twenty-Eight by their clothes," she listed, "You're a Weasley, aren't you?"

"Ron Weasley," he admitted.

"Ron Weasley," she repeated, then immediately turned to the other boy, "And you?"

"Uh- what?" he said.

"Your name," she said slowly, "What is it?"

"Oh, er- Harry," he said, looking cornered.

She raised an eyebrow, "Just Harry?"

"Just Harry," he confirmed.

Her eyes narrowed. 'Why don't you want to give a surname?' she wondered, 'Are you another blood traitor?' For some reason, she doubted that was true.

"Well, Just Harry and Ron Weasley," she continued, "I'm Daphne- not just Daphne: Daphne Greengrass- and this is-"

"Hermione Granger," finished the other girl, in her overexcited way, "Pleased to meet you."

'A mudblood, a Weasley and boy with no name,' thought Daphne, 'I think I might have just found the most un-Slytherin group on the entire train. I don't know whether to call that impressive or ironic.'

One thing was certain; this was the last place anyone would think to find a Greengrass.

The idea came to her out of nowhere, but then it wouldn't go away. If she wanted to hide from Malfoy and Parkinson and Bulstrode, then she just might have found the perfect place to do it. However, that didn't change how badly it would go for her if anyone did manage to find her.

She looked at each of the faces around her. Granger was looking at her expectantly, Weasley looked suspicious and Harry still seemed confused.

'This is the last chance I'll have to talk to anyone outside of Slytherin,' she remembered.

Daphne sighed in defeat. "Someone help me with my trunk then," she said, pulling it in from the corridor.

With Harry's help, she managed to lift it up into the luggage rack next to the other three cases. Sitting back down, she noticed Weasley was still staring at her.

"What?" she asked in annoyance.

"You're a Greengrass," he said.

"Well remembered," she said, "It must have been at least five seconds since I told you. Would you like a medal for that?"

She heard Harry give a poorly covered laugh next to her.

"A Greengrass helping a muggle-born," said Weasley, ignoring her comment, "What would people think?"

"You can talk," she shot back, glancing at the boy next to her, "You're family's one of the Twenty-Eight too."

"Yeah, but I'm a Weasley," he said, waving it off, "I'm supposed to be a blood-traitor, what's your excuse?"

'I'm hiding. It'll annoy my father. I'd like a change of pace. I'm a good person.'

All of those were good answers, but instead, she just responded with, "We all need our secrets, Weasley."

"What's wrong with muggle-borns, anyway?" asked Granger indignantly, looking between the two of them with a frown.

"Yeah Greengrass," asked Weasley smugly, "Why don't you want to be seen with one?"

"Nothing's wrong with them," she said to Granger, ignoring Weasley, "But you aren't really the same as wizards or witches are you?"

"That's not a very nice thing to say," said Harry.

"No it isn't," agreed Granger, "Are you saying we shouldn't learn magic?"

"What?" said Daphne, back-pedalling quickly, "No, of course not, it's just- well, muggles don't grow up in the same way as us. We can't help it if you seem different to us, because- you are different."

"What does that mean?" asked Harry.

"She means that some wizards don't like people who grew up the muggle way," explained Weasley, "It's like I was saying earlier, muggles come up with all these weird ways of convincing themselves that magic doesn't exist. So, you- I don't know, you act different."

"And there are some people who think you shouldn't learn magic, especially among the noble families," continued Daphne, "My family is very- um- traditional-"

"That's one way to put it," said Weasley.

"-and my father is quite important," she continued, "He deals with a lot of families like the Malfoys or the Yaxleys. There are quite a few people on this train who would recognise me from somewhere. They might not take kindly to me associating with mu- er- a muggle-born."

'That was close,' she thought. She had nearly slipped up and said mudblood, and that definitely wouldn't have gone well for her.

"Yeah," said Weasley, "Don't want to let your fellow snakes know that you might actually be a decent person."

Daphne glared at him. The Weasleys were well known for their hatred of pureblood tradition, as well as anyone who was sorted into Slytherin. Like most people, she was sure that it was just their loyalty to Gryffindor speaking, coupled with a resentment for their own impoverished state. They certainly wouldn't act so high and mighty if they were still counted as nobles themselves.

Before she could respond, the door slid open again and a tall man arrived, who asked them all for their tickets. He was wearing a smart yellow and black uniform that Daphne thought made him look a bit like a wasp.

Not long after the man left, a whistle sounded and the train began to move. On the platform below, the last few students scrambled up the steps, shouting goodbyes down at their parents. Daphne watched as families waved goodbye, though none of them waved at her compartment, and nobody in the compartment waved back to anyone. The platform began to slide away as the train picked up speed, and suddenly, they were in a dark tunnel. The first section of the tunnel was lit by eerie green torches, which were followed by bright blue ones, then yellow, and finally red.

As the red torches disappeared behind them, the dim torchlight gave way to the brilliant morning sun. The train was now moving across wide fields of emerald green grass and at least a dozen owls flew past their window and out across the horizon. Looking behind them, Daphne could see no indication of the tunnel they had just left. The tracks just seemed to disappear into the side of a hill.

"Wait a moment," said Harry, glancing around, "We were in the middle of London. How did we get so far away?"

"Course we weren't in London," said Weasley, looking bewildered, "We were at Nine-and-Three-Quarters, remember?"

This just made Harry look even more puzzled. "But isn't that in King's Cross?" he asked.

"That's just the muggle entrance," explained Granger, "Nobody actually knows where the platform itself is. It was built by the descendants of Helga Hufflepuff herself, and they used some very, very powerful magic to do it. I think that there's another muggle entrance in Edinburgh and a couple in Ireland as well."

Everyone in the compartment stared at her. Even Daphne hadn't known that much about it and, from the look on his face, she suspected Weasley hadn't either. Granger blushed and shrank into her seat at the attention.

"I- er- read it in Hogwarts: A History," she said sheepishly.

"That wasn't on our books list was it?" asked Harry.

"No," she said, "But I- I picked up a few extra books from Diagon Alley that I thought looked interesting. It's good that I did. I mean, the school books were just so fascinating. They didn't last me that long at all really."

"Wait, are you saying that you've read all the school books," said Daphne incredulously.

"Of course. I couldn't read them all properly though. I only had time to skim through some of them, but I think I read enough that I won't be too behind. I mean, you all grew up around magic, so you must know plenty to begin with. I needed to catch up."

"I think you might have done a bit more than just catch up," said Daphne. Looking over at the two boys, she was glad to see that neither of them looked like they'd read all the books either.

"Yeah," agreed Weasley, "We- uh- don't actually learn anything about magic until we get to Hogwarts. At most, we know a few of the incantations and wand motions, but there's supposed to be a lot more to it than that."

"I was mainly just reading up on history," said Harry, "I wanted to know more about my- I mean, about the- er- the Wizarding World."

Daphne glanced at Harry suspiciously. 'That was possibly the worst lie I've ever heard.'

"You mean- you mean none of you have ever used magic?" asked Granger.

"Well, I assume we've all done accidental magic," said Daphne, "But, we're not really supposed to try any real spells until we've been taught some more."

"I tried to cast a spell when I first found out I had magic," admitted Harry, "It- uh- it didn't go very well."

"Fred tried to teach me how to turn my rat yellow," added Weasley, "But-"

"Really?" said Granger, "That sounds interesting. Colour-changing charms are supposed to be very advanced."

"It didn't work," said Weasley, "Look."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rat that was definitely not yellow. Not only that, but the thing looked very old and very battered. It was even missing one of its legs.

"I reckon he just made it up," said Weasley, "Wanted me to make a fool of myself in front of everyone. As if owning Scabbers here wasn't humiliating enough."

"Oh, that's a shame," said Granger, looking disappointed that she wouldn't get to see the rat turn yellow, "Well, I suppose you should really have known that it wasn't real. He couldn't possibly have expected you to be able to do anything that advanced."

"What can you do then, if you're so good at magic?" said Weasley, sounding a bit put out at how she was speaking to him.

Granger shot him a cold look. "I've been practising a few simple spells," she said proudly, "They've all worked for me. For example."

She turned to Harry and drew her wand. He got a frightened look on his face and looked to the others for help, but Daphne was just curious to see if this girl could actually do it.

"Hold still," ordered Granger, and Harry froze, "Reparo!"

There was an audible SNAP and the air was suddenly filled with the faint smell of peppermint. The tip of Granger's wand flashed blue for a brief moment and then the smell was gone.

Harry's glasses, which had once looked like they were snapped down the middle, were now perfectly straight. Hesitantly, Harry removed them and began to pull away the Spellotape keeping them together.

"Wicked," breathed Weasley, and Daphne had to agree with him. The glasses were mended completely. There was not even a scratch to show where they had initially been broken. Harry's eyes had widened to an almost comical size in shock.

"How did you learn that?" demanded Daphne. She had never been able to do anything like that and she was a pureblood.

"Yeah, we can't do that," agreed Weasley, who, now that he had gotten over his surprise, also looked annoyed that a muggle-born knew more magic than he did.

"It was in the Standard Book of Spells," she said, "It outlined how to do the spell in a lot of detail. I'm sure you could have learned it if you'd tried."

Daphne's eyebrows shot up. 'What's that supposed to mean?' she thought, 'This girl really isn't going to make many friends at Hogwarts if she keeps that attitude up.'

"This is brilliant," said Harry, oblivious to the tension between the other three, "When I tried to do magic for the first time, I ended up causing a thunderstorm. But this is brilliant."

The compartment suddenly went very quiet and everyone turned to stare at Harry.

"What?" he asked, still holding his glasses.

"A thunderstorm?" asked Weasley disbelievingly.

"Uh- sort of, yes," replied Harry, looking uncomfortable with the attention.

"Sort of?" said Daphne, "What does that mean?"

"Well, it didn't last very long," he said, "And it took a lot out of me as well, although I didn't have a wand at that point."

"You tried to do magic without a wand?" asked Granger, looking horrified.

"And you're still alive?" added Daphne, sharing her concerns.

"And in one piece?" finished Weasley.

"Uh- yeah," said Harry, "I mean, it was pretty scary. I don't think it was a very smart idea, but it worked out all right."

Daphne blinked. "Not a very smart idea?" she repeated, "That must be the biggest understatement in history. What in Merlin's name made you think that it was a good idea in the first place?"

"Yeah, Harry," said Weasley, "I take back what I said about nobody being as thick as your cousin. As dumb ideas go, this one's pretty bad."

"I didn't know about wizards at that point," Harry argued, looking more angry than uncomfortable now, "I didn't know about magic or wands or anything like that. I just knew that I could do weird stuff and that people were sending me weird letters and my Uncle didn't want me reading those letters. I just wanted to know if I was going mad, so I got myself really angry and it just- happened."

Daphne glanced at the other two. It looked like they too had noticed Harry's slip of the tongue. "Um- Harry," said Granger delicately, "What do you mean they didn't want you reading your letters?"

Harry went red and tried to scoot further into the corner. "It doesn't matter," he said, "It's complicated."

"Really?" said Daphne, raising an eyebrow, "That's a cheap answer."

Harry fixed her with a meaningful look. "Well, we all have our secrets, Daphne," he said.

That was all Daphne needed to know that she should drop it. She began to think of a way to change the subject, but she was saved from that awkward task by the door opening again. Unfortunately, this presented her with a much bigger problem to face.

"Well, there you are Greengrass," said a voice, "I was starting to think that you'd missed the train."

Daphne felt the blood run from her face. She turned to the door, a feeling of dread welling up inside her. 'I knew I shouldn't have stayed with these three.'

Standing in the doorway, flanked on either side by what looked like two hairless gorillas, was the boy from the compartment Daphne had passed earlier. He was thin and pale, with hair so blond that it looked almost white.

"Malfoy," greeted Daphne sullenly.

"It really wasn't easy to find you Greengrass," said Malfoy, "I expected that you'd be with Parkinson."

"I couldn't find her," Daphne replied stiffly, "Nor could I find you for that matter. I just found myself an empty seat."

"Quite the seat," said Malfoy, turning to the rest of the compartment, as if noticing them for the first time, "Why don't you introduce me, Daphne? Did you lose your manners in the past month?"

Daphne tried not to react and began cooking up some suitable lie in her head. If she played it off like she didn't know who anyone in the room was, she might be able to get a way with it. She just prayed that the others would go along with it.

"No need, actually," decided Malfoy, his eyes resting on Weasley, "I know that one."

"Malfoy," said the red-head darkly, "What do you want?"

"Oh you've found yourself a weasel, Greengrass," said Malfoy, looking almost pleased, before his face twisted as if he'd swallowed something sour, "I can't imagine why you'd sit here, unless you couldn't recognise him. Yes, I suppose that was it. Your family doesn't have to deal with this filth as much as we do."

Daphne closed her eyes and prepared for the inevitable. There was no way that this would end well if Malfoy could recognise Weasley. At least he didn't know about Granger.

"Ron's not filth," said Granger harshly. Daphne was almost impressed at her guts, but she knew that at this point it would only make things worse.

"And who's this then," said Malfoy, turning to the bushy-haired girl, "If you're defending a weasel then you can't be too important, or perhaps you're just not very bright."

"I'm Hermione," she said and Daphne felt like punching her. She fixed her with a hard stare, but the girl was focused entirely on Malfoy.

'Shut up Granger,' Daphne pleaded with her silently, 'Just please shut up.'

"I don't care who you are," said Malfoy dismissively, "Do you at least have a surname?"

By some miracle, Daphne was sure, Granger seemed to have finally got the message that this wasn't a good idea.

"I- er-" she said, looking a bit lost for what to say next, "It's not exactly- um-"

"What?" said Malfoy, "Have you recognised my name now? Have you figured out who's company you're in?"

"Leave her alone Malfoy," snapped Weasley, "She doesn't know who you are and she doesn't care, now shove off."

"Doesn't know who I am?" scoffed Malfoy, "Why, everyone knows who I am, Weasley. Unlike some, my family is actually still important. The only people who wouldn't know about us are-"

Malfoy stopped short at that. He looked to Granger, then to Weasley, then Daphne and then back to Granger. "It can't be," he said in disgust, "A mudblood, Greengrass, really? Couldn't you smell something was off about her?"

"What did you just call me!?" said Granger shrilly.

At the same time, Weasley jumped up from his seat with a shout of, "That does it!"

Daphne stepped up straight away and planted a hand on Weasley's chest, stopping him from moving forward. The two bodyguards Malfoy had brought stepped forwards too, rolling their shoulders and looking even bigger than before.

"That's enough!" said Daphne. She was already going to suffer for this, the other three didn't need to.

"I agree," said Malfoy, "We should leave before my friends bloody your pet weasel's nose. We wouldn't want to make this place any more of a mess than it already is. By the way, you haven't met these two before have you? This is Crabbe and Goyle."

"Charmed," said Daphne icily. There was no point pretending that she wanted Malfoy here any more. As much as hated it, the truth was probably her safest option here.

"Get off me Greengrass," said Weasley dangerously.

Daphne turned and glared at him. "Sit down, Weasley!" she snapped.

To her amazement, the fire in Weasley's eyes seemed to die a bit and he slumped back into his seat, glaring at everyone.

"Good boy," said Malfoy mockingly, "I can't believe you managed to train a weasel Greengrass. But still, I thought, with a family like yours, you'd be able to tell who was the right sort," he held a hand out to her and shot a disgusted look at Granger, "As well as who was the wrong sort."

Daphne sighed in relief. This would be difficult to fix, but at least she hadn't been the cause of Weasley's nose being broken. She went to take Malfoy's hand, glad that this was over at least.

"And who decides who's the right sort?"

Daphne felt like screaming at Harry. She turned away from Malfoy and gave the black-haired boy her best death-glare. Harry wasn't even looking at her, he was stood up and staring Malfoy down intensely.

"Well I do of course?" said Malfoy condescendingly, "And who are you exactly anyway?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Malfoy wasn't done.

"Actually, you know what?" he said, "I really don't care who you are. You just need to know that you aren't as important as I am."

There are many ways Daphne would have expected Harry to react to react to this. She wouldn't have been surprised if he got angry, or if he cowered again, or even if he just didn't react at all.

However, the last thing she expected was for him to laugh, which is exactly what happened. Everyone in the room stared at him, as he let out a great snort of mirth at Malfoy's comment.

"Somehow, I really doubt that," said Harry, a sudden air of cockiness about him.

"Is that so?" said Malfoy. Daphne was glad to hear that he sounded as shocked as everyone else was.

"Yep," said Harry simply, still smirking.

Part of Daphne wanted to talk Harry down like she had with Weasley, but there was something in his eyes that made her pause. She looked at him and there was this feeling, like he had some kind of plan and he knew that, whatever it was, it would work. She couldn't really explain it and it lasted only a second, but something about it stopped her.

"So who are you then?" said Malfoy, back to his own cocky way of talking, "Are you another mudblood, perhaps a blood-traitor like Weasley, or maybe you're just not notable at all, not even in a bad way."

"I'm Harry," said the other boy, his eyes twinkling like emeralds, "Harry Potter."