Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights belong to the amazing (and beautiful) J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing Plc., the movies belonging to Warner Bros. Entertainment Company. I make no profit from this work, and is written solely for entertainment. If, at the request of any of the parties listed above, this story must be removed, please send, to either my account or personal e-mail (kywindover ) any and all forms that contain (legitement) proof/information of enployment with any of these parties. In the event that I am contacted by lawyers/solicitors this story will be removed to avoid any and all confrontation. Once again, I make no profit from this work.

Words: 1,732

Pairing: Harry Potter/Daphne Greengrass

Warnings: AU, Mentions of (minor) child abuse, Slight Dumbledore bashing, slight Ginny bashing, slight Ron bashing.

Authors Note (2015-02-17): So here's the second chapter! I hope you enjoy it. We still have a ways to go before the books start being read. The wait for the third chapter won't be as long, I promise, as I am almost finished writing it. I would love to hear from you, my glorious readers, so leave a review!

P.S. I edited to the best of my ability, but I'm not perfect, so if you see any errors leave them in a review or message me and I will fix them. Thank you! Have fun!

The Great Hall and the Fates

"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart." - Marcus Aurelius

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, frowned at the seven books that lay on his desk. They were all leather bound, with no pictures on the cover, only the titles written in elegant golden print. He supposed this was to prevent the story from being spoiled. But it made it look rather boring. Each book grew progressively larger as they went, the fifth being the largest. The titles made his frown deepen.

Harry Potter was written on each and every one of them, and he wondered why the Fates would want his favourite student's school years to be read. He knew that the child was important, but did his feelings really need to be known? Did his personal life need to be thrust out into the public eye?

But Albus Dumbledore was no fool, and he knew it was unwise to cross to the Fates bad side. These books would need to be read. But how would he achieve that? He knew he could ask the castle to make rooms and dormitories for the students, possibly a dining hall, and washrooms in the rooms and dormitories. But how long would it take to read all seven books? Would the Fates have some sort of enchantment that could freeze time? He hoped so, because he couldn't take away too much time from the school year to read books.

And then there were the students? He was certain that the Slytherins would not want to read about the precious Golden Boy. But these were the Fates. And then there were the Fates themselves. What did they hope to achieve? What could the reading of these books do to help the Greater Good?

But he couldn't dwell on that. He had to make the arrangements. Pulling out several pieces of parchment, he began to write the letters to the parties that had been mentioned in the note that came with the package. Once that task was complete, he gathered the books up and left his office, and walked briskly down to the Great Hall, intent on addressing the staff and students (and having a generous serving of shepherd's pie and treacle tart).

The Great Hall was what it was to be expected at dinnertime. The din of the students conversations; discussing classes, swapping rumours, and otherwise being normal, ordinary children. Their school year, once again, was going to take a turn for the worse, or the better. Dumbledore sat at the Head Table, watching the students, looking for anything suspicious. It was only the second day of classes, and as such most students were relaxed and easygoing, and Dumbledore idly wondered, like McGonagall not thirty minutes before, why there could never be a normal year at Hogwarts. The Headmaster ate his last bite of treacle tart, and he looked around, noticing that most of the students were finished also. He looked up and down the Staff Table, and Minerva gave him a stern, pointed look. He sighed, and stood. The entire Hall quieted, and all eyes were upon him. He cleared his throat, and he began to speak.

"I hope you are all having a wondrous time having just completed your second day of classes and I hope that they are going well thus far. Unfortunately, it would appear that this school year is going to be interrupted by forces beyond our control. I have been contacted by three prominent figures, who have requested that these seven books," he held one of the books high, carefully keeping the titles hidden, "be read to you. I am inclined to indulge them. They shall arrive shortly, along with a number of guests. I reque-"

A soft hem hem was heard to his left. A toad like woman in a ghastly pink cardigan stood, her face pinched in a sickeningly sweet smile.

"And, pray tell, Dumbledore. Just who are these people? What right do they have to disrupt the school year?"

Professor Umbridge smiled again, and cocked her head to the side.

"I'm sure, Delores, that when you meet them, you'll find that it is quite within their right."

Umbridge scowled, before sitting back down. Curse Dumbledore, and his manipulation of words, she thought.

Dumbledore had begun speaking once more.

"As I was saying." he said, his eyes twinkling, "I request that you remain seated until our guests arrive."

Not two seconds after this was said, the doors of the Great Hall opened and a large group of people walked in. The first to arrive was the Weasley Family, easily recognizable by their flaming red hair. Behind them, a large dog trotted happily, its tongue lolling to the side, and a shabby looking man with sandy brown hair by the name of Remus Lupin. After them came a rather tubby man in a green bowler hat and pinstriped robes. That was Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister of Magic. Beside him was a rather stern looking woman who wore a monocle. Amelia Bones, the Head of the DMLE. They all approached the Staff Table, and Fudge was very red in the face.

"What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore!" Fudge roared, his face turning a very unattractive shade of puce, "I was in the middle of dinner, when in pops a Phoenix, who then proceeds to drop a letter right atop my Pot Pie!"

"I assure you, Cornelius," Dumbledore placated, "that I called you here for a very good reason. We just need that reason to arrive. In the meantime, have a seat."

Dumbledore waved his wand, and several chairs appeared. Fudge immediately sat beside Umbridge, and proceeded to whisper to each other while glancing at Dumbledore and a certain black haired boy. Remus sat beside McGonagall, and they began to talk adamantly. The others, however, chose to sit with the students. Amelia sat with her niece Susan, and the Weasleys' sat at the Gryffindor table.

Harry sat with his friends at the Gryffindor table. He already knew what was happening. The books had something to do with him. He wasn't being arrogant, but it seemed that every year something always happened to him. Add the fact that his Godfather was there, and there was no denying it. The Weasley family had arrived and they were conversing with their sons. What were the books? How did they relate to him? And, more importantly, who sent them?

His friend Hermione tapped him on the shoulder, looking fairly excited about what was happening.

"Isn't this exciting!?" Hermione said, clapping her hands, "What sort of books do you think they are? And why's Snuffles here? Who do you think sent them?" She kept firing off questions in succession, and Harry tuned her out.

All around the hall people were talking, always casting curious glances at Dumbledore. They were all obviously excited, talking animatedly, with waving arms. The Gryffindor's were the loudest, talking about anything and everything, laughing and shouting. The Hufflepuff's were bubbly but quiet, giggling and whispering. The Ravenclaw's looked curious, an intelligent gleam in their eyes. They kept glancing at the Staff Table, trying to discern the importance about what was happening. Harry was going to ignore the Slytherin's, because he did not care about what they were doing, when he felt eyes on him. He could tell that the stare had no malicious intent, for he knew what those felt like having been the target of many, but neither was the stare friendly. It made him feel like a specimen on an operating table. So slowly he turned, and looked across the hall to the Slytherin table, and met pale green eyes. A beautiful face with high cheekbones and a strong jaw was framed by honey blonde hair, and full lips pulled into a smirk when the girl noticed his gaze. Harry blushed and quickly turned around. Hermione must have noticed his reddened cheeks and the location of his previous gaze because she looked over his shoulder at the Slytherin table before her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed into a glare.

"That's Daphne Greengrass," she said when she turned back to him, "The Ice Queen of Slytherin."

Harry looked at her for a moment before responding, "Why is she looking at me?"

Hermione shrugged, "No clue." But there was a gleam in her eyes that told him more than anything else.

All the students sat there, whispering and conspiring for more than half an hour, all of them waiting for the visitors that Dumbledore had said would arrive. It seemed that the waiting was too much for Fudge however, because he stood abruptly, very red in the face.

"Enough of this Dumbledore!" He roared, causing most of the students to jump in fright. "I will not sit here another moment, wasting away my evening!"

He shoved his bowler hat onto his head, threw his cloak over his shoulders, clasping it, and began to stride to the doors with as much dignity a man who looked like a cocktail olive could. Just as he reached the bottom of the steps that raised the head table over the students however, a bright white flash emanated from the center of the Great Hall. The students and teachers all covered their eyes, as to save them from the blinding light. Fudge was so startled that he fell flat on his arse, his head hitting the stone floor as his hands had gone to shield his face. A gentle breeze flittered through the Hall and each and every ear heard the sound of tearing fabric. Eventually the light subsided and hands were lowered. The students and teachers alike gazed open mouthed at the figures in the Hall. Three towering hooded figures stood in a semicircle around a large group of people. It took only a moment for someone to recognize another.

"Lily?" Professor Snape said, his voice cracking with emotion.

A redheaded woman in the group looked at the dour man with deep green eyes as she rocked a whimpering babe in her arms, "Severus." she said, her voice civil but cold.