To be sixteen and only just experiencing her first hangover, she should consider herself lucky.

She hadn't planned on getting as drunk as she had, otherwise she would have had the good sense to have ready a vial of hangover potion. She'd have to drag herself to the hospital wing for that. It was only a few floors up, but in her current state that might as well have been the other side of the Great Lake. She slipped out early and unnoticed. From what she remembered about last night, she was in no rush to see either Tracey or Dominique again. When she moved, she moved quickly, the dungeons were freezing and there was only so much heating enchantments could do at this time of the year.

Daphne had entered a dormant state; it was all she could do to manage the conflicts going on inside her. Memories on replay and confused emotions clouded her brain from the night before.

Familiar feelings swarmed in her chest, but it came as a great deal of shock to her that not all of them were unpleasant. She felt a lot of ways about last night but, surprisingly, regret was not one of them. It was as though a great weight had suddenly been lifted; it would have been relieving, if not for the daunting prospects that carried with it.

On the way up, she noticed the changes in the environment around her. The castle seemed different, somehow. Things appeared to her more clearly, she no longer saw just a corridor, but the individual students it held, the classrooms leading off from it and each portraits that adorned its walls. Realistically, it was likely down to hyper sensitivity caused by her hangover, but that didn't explain why - despite the cold - things felt like a warm hue had settled over the scenery. Indeed, in spite of the raging wind outside and her breath rising into mist before her, it couldn't be denied that things had an air of cosines about them now.

"Madam Pomfrey, do you have anything for hangover?"

The Hogwarts Healer gave an all-too-knowing smile.

"Oh dear, another one from Slughorn's Christmas bash?"

Daphne nodded slower than usual.

"You're the fourth one I've had this morning!" she tutted, shaking her head. "You should count yourself lucky, though, poor Mister McLaggan can barely talk. I suspect he's still drunk from last night, I've had to send him back to bed with detoxification potion. I'll grab you something my dear!"

Madam Pomfrey began to move freely about the ward, making frequent turns back to continue addressing her.

"Oh, that's Skye Parkin and Gweong Jones in the end beds, by the way! Just if you want to go say hello! Both with sprained limps after attempting a drunk-riding race, idiot girls… Now, normally I treat my patients health very confidentiality, but neither of them will be getting any sympathy from me after that mess at last years Cup!"

It took a second for her to catch what the Healer was referencing. A weak smile formed on her lips over the thought of Madam Pomfrey being a Quidditch loyalist. The Healer in question returned a moment later, handing her off a small blue vial.

"Wiggenweld. It should do the job. Anything else I can help you with, dear?"

Daphne shook her head and was about to say her farewells, when a point suddenly occurred to her.

"How long until I can I take this off?" she gestured weakly to her face, the eye-patch specifically.

"Soon, I should suspect!" Madam Pomfrey modded. "Tomorrow should be fine, just be prepared for some scarring."

She gave a disheartened mumble as response.

That word had been thrown around so much these past days she was beginning to grow sick of it. She'd imagined everything from a gigantic gash splitting her face down the middle to the tiniest, barely visible line, to an exact replica of Harry's scar, just adorning the opposite side of her face. At this point she just wanted to see what the bloody thing looked like so she could start preparing ways to hide it.

Vial now in hand, Daphne turned to make her way to breakfast. Only, it felt like she was missing something. That feeling of content returned to her and she turned back around, flashing Madam Pomfrey a sudden smile.

"Have a nice day, Madam Pomfrey!"

The Healer looked back up from her work and returned her smile.

"You too, dear!"

She vacated the room, vaguely taken aback by her own sudden outburst. It was a short walk to the Great Hall and upon entry, she found she was one of the first people up.

It looked incredible in there, as it often did during the festive season. Mistletoe and holly hung from the ceilings and no less than twelve full-sized Christmas trees adorned the room. It was colder than in the corridor, having not fully warmed up yet, but the beginnings of breakfast had began appearing on the house tables.

She helped herself to a hot chocolate and poured the blue vial into it before taking a sip. Almost immediately the beating sensation in her head began to dull, she was grateful. She brought herself to some toast with full intention of eating her problems away until such a time where she felt confident trying to confront them herself.

Not all changes around the castle were positive. As she walked, she felt embarrassment lingering not far behind. It was stupid, really. Nobody but Harry had seen her that way. It was more the principle of it that had taken the biggest blow. She felt exposed for what she really was now; a coward. Her true nature had been revealed and the protecting persona she often hid behind was dead and buried. Considering how confident she'd been about it, it left her with a very apparent unpleasantness whenever the events of last night crossed her mind.

The Ice Queen might never have existed, but now she barely felt like Daphne Greengrass either.

It didn't look like things had changed - she still woke up in the same bed and moved through the same morning routine - but she wasn't living the same life as before. It was difficult processing the extents of this new reality, of her new canon of life. This was the reality where she was a Death Eater and where Harry Potter was in her life again.

It was also where her head was beating with the power of a thousand suns.

Quicker than she would have liked, Daphne had company.

"Goooood mornin', my little party animal!"

She quickly pushed her anxieties to the back of her mind and returned to her breakfast plate. Tracey threw herself down on the seat opposite and Dominique placed herself gently beside her.

"What was I drinking last night? My head feels horrific."

"Red wine for most of it, then you swapped to whiskey about midnight. Rookie mistake! You should never mix, especially not wines."

"Who was I talking for ages with about Wizard Broadway?"

Tracey cackled, "Melinda Bobbin, Hufflepuff, you two were gettin' along really well! Half expected yous to start singing that duet from Bigfoots Last Stand!"

"Et was a magnifique night!

"It was pretty sick," she nodded, "Shame we had to go early because of someone."

It took Daphne a moment to realise that was directed at her.

"What?"

"You were gone!" she laughed. "Do you remember being sick in the corridor?"

She turned her nose up at the memory. Unfortunately, she did remember that part.

"I am... sorry about that."

"It's cool! You're not used to it. That'll change after our NEWTs, though," Tracey added with a wink. "And this was all after you stole Dom's date, of course."

Daphne took a sharp inhale of breath.

"You did not dire me you two were an item, I had no idea!" Dominique spoke in a shrill cry.

Last night was fuzzy. She knew what was said, but that was about it. After she and Harry spoke they went back to the party together and she got more drunk. After that things passed like a blur. She had a memory of kissing someone - Harry, she hoped - and then of her incident on the way back to the common room.

"I kissed him, didn't I?" she spoke quietly and mostly to herself.

Tracey and Dominique looked awkwardly between themselves.

"We were... hopin' you wouldn't remember that part."

Daphne stared into her breakfast.

Maybe that was the source of the animosity she was feeling? She'd been wanting to kiss Harry again for months, it shouldn't have happened while she was drunk. Now it sat in her head as a messy blur and not the significant moment it should have been.

"Better than Blaise, I suppose?" Tracey offered. "He kept tryin' it on with everyone there. Apart from me, of course. I reckon I intimate him... Shame as well, 'cause I'd probably have said yeah. Love me some dark chocolate."

"Did anyone see us?" she asked almost in a moan.

Tracey smiled uneasily and Daphne's stomach dropped. She only gave that kind of smile when she was telling a half-truth.

"You had the good sense to be behind a curtain when you did, don't worry. Harry ended up leaving not long after Draco crashed the party, anyway. So damage there is minimized, at least. That is… if it was damage and not intention?"

For her to not tease her during a conversation about something like this was odd, but now she knew why. She was asking her if it was a drunken mistake or her plan all along.

How did she answer that it was a rough amalgamation of both? She intended on talking to him last night, intended on confessing to him, but the crying and snogging part was a surprise to her as well.

"I did what I needed to. He took it well, considering…"

"Considerin'…?" Tracey repeated.

All at once, Daphne realised why she felt so exposed suddenly. Her hand quickly slapped onto her arm, creating a noise which reverberated across the Great Hall a number of times.

"I took my bandages off!"

Tracey frowned.

"You mean you don't have any on right now?"

"No!"

"Can I see?"

"Tracey!"

The girl shook her head and returned to the conversation. She leaned in quickly, her face ashen.

"Ah, erm... look, the dress was long sleeve, right? Nobody could have seen?"

"That's not the point! I was drunk - I don't know what I was doing! Anyone could have seen it!"

"Do you zelf'arm? Iz zhat what we're talking about?"

Tracey made a noise like Dominique had just stabbed her in the leg.

"Oh my god, no, Dom! That's not… no, she doesn't. Don't go there, bad territory."

Daphne began to feel numb as the panic setting in and she began strategically planning her next move.

"I need to go back to my dorm before lesson."

"Before lesson?"

"Zhe 'ospital wing ez closer."

Daphne stared at Dominique, amazed that she'd actually said something useful for once.

"Good idea! I'll see you two in…?"

Tracey shook her head.

"It's… Sunday?"

Daphne fumbled to shove the last of her toast in her mouth as she stood up.

"Right, well…. I'll see you when I see you. Bye, Dom."

She flashed them both a wave and took off out the Great Hall in a fast pace.

"Hey, she actually said bye to you this time?" Tracey said brightly.

Dominique sank into her seat.

"Zhe already 'ates me, and now zhe thinks I tried taking 'er boyfriend!"


"You could have a smashing career as a Quidditch Player if the whole Dark-Wizard hunting thing doesn't work out!"

"I really appreciate that, genuinely! Thank you so much!"

When Daphne reentered the hospital wing, she walked head-first into a conversation between a taller, blue-haired woman and a sight she hadn't expected to see so soon. The woman, who she now recognised as Skye Parkin, rose to attention.

"You're looking better than last night! Daffy, wasn't it?"

The realisation of who she was talking to finally settled and her instincts kicked in, she straightened her back and produced a hand.

"Daphne Greengrass. It's an honour to meet you, Miss Parkin."

Skye gave a throaty laugh and grabbed her hand with a rough shake, then turned back to him.

"Doesn't remember anything, bless her! Probably for the best! Have a smashing day, you lot! See you later, Madam Pomfrey!"

Her worrying words aside, Daphne flashed Skye another polite smile as she exited the Hospital Wig.

She tried to turn back to where he was standing, but stopped. There was a pause, in which it felt some kind of invisible wall rose between them.

Her breath caught in her chest.

What did she even say? What could she say? She hadn't planned on seeing him again so quickly, she needed time to prepare. Meeting a world-famous Quidditch Player passed her by like it was nothing, it paled in comparison to being in his presence again. She almost wished she was still drunk.

"Back already, my dear?" Madam Pomfrey re-entered the scene.

She forced out a nod.

"Yes - erm... the bandages on my chest got ruined last night. I was hoping I could collect some more?"

"Yes, shouldn't be a problem! Plonk yourself on the bed and pop your top off," she gestured to the closest cubical, "I'll draw the curtain."

"I was hoping I could just grab them and go, actually? I'm late for…"

Drat, it was a Sunday.

She couldn't be late for revision, that sounded ridiculous.

"Prefect duties," he answered for her.

She flashed him an impossibly quick appreciative smile.

"Yes, prefect duties."

"Mmhmm. Not like me to let a patient go without the proper care, but last thing I need is Snape howling up my rear end. Here you are, my dear. No need to return them."

Bandages were ushered into her hand and she was free from the conversation. Madam Pomfrey left the scene and gain, Daphne felt her energy seeping over to her right side.

Giving in, she finally turned to him. Harry gave a weak, hopeful smile, his arms half-raised. He seemed momentarily surprised that he was here himself.

Nothing but the sight of him could have given her the strength to completely sober up on the spot.

Daphne sighed.

"Are you busy right now?"

He shook his head awkwardly.

"No... actually, I just came down to meet Skye before she left… Didn't have a chance to last night, because…" his words petered out uselessly.

She had wanted to wait longer before doing this. She needed time to prep, get her story straight and priorities in order.

This was her being put on the spot, the difference now was she wasn't about to freeze again.

"It's busy here. We shouldn't be seen together."

"Yeah..."

They moved towards the exit together.

"Follow a few paces behind me."

She told him this and left the room without waiting to see if he had acknowledged it.

Unlike earlier, the corridor was now full to the brim. A crowd had gathered nearby, apparently Skype Parkin hadn't gotten too far before students started noticing who she was.

It made it easy for her to slip by unnoticed and head down the History of Magic corridor. She kept that direction for a couple more meters until the social noises began to fade and she came across the door to an empty classroom. She cast an unlocking spell over the door and allowed herself in - which she was perfectly allowed to do, being a Prefect, thank you very much.

The classroom was draughty, the cool air sank to her bones almost immediately. The seconds it took to wait for Harry were some of the longest in her life.

"Are we okay in here?" he asked, entering behind her.

She nodded and saw him standing by the door to the room, staring sheepishly back at her.

Again, her words were struggled to find her.

Daphne felt thoroughly out of her depth. He seemed to be in the same boat as her, she observed. It had been a very long time since they had felt this awkward around one another. He was handsome even when he was like tgis. That made things so much more difficult. As shallow as it made her sound, none of this would have ever happened if he looked like Longbottom.

They looked at each other for a long moment. She felt a burning desire to run from the room, but at the same time, a complete inability to move her feet.

Sometime later, she found her words again.

"I am… sorry. About last night," her mouth was very dry. "I apologise that you had to see me like that."

"Please don't. I'm glad that I did."

Harry moved closer to touch her, Daphne flinched away from him.

"I should not have said anythi-"

"Daphne, just don't, okay?"

Volume had gathered in his voice from nowhere.

"You spoke to me properly for the first time in months. We got on for the first time in months. Don't take that away now."

Daphne let her chin sink into her chest and her eyelids scraped shut. She wasn't about to argue with that tone.

"Nobody can know what I told you," she said quietly.

"I won't tell anybody - you will."

She opened her eye and leaned back.

"What?"

"You said you wanted help, didn't you?"

"Yes, though..." she coughed her voice back to life,"... I didn't mean… literally, in a sense… there's nothing you can do, I merely meant I didn't want to be alone anymore."

Harry gave her a look she could only describe as melancholy sympathy.

"Then don't do it on your own, let me help you. I want to help, Daphne. But… there's only so much I can do on my own. Let me take you to Dumbledore so you can tell him what you told me?"

Her heart sank right past it's usual spot and into the pit of her stomach. She saw this conversation going a number of ways, but this wasn't one of them.

"Please, stop - " she struggled "- Do not talk to me about him. You know why I can't do that."

"You need help and this is the way. "

"Harry, we are at war with one another! You can't just ask me to swap alliances like that!"

"Well, how's your side been working out for you?"

Daphne did not say anything to that; his words were quite true, but over her dead body would she acknowledge it.

She felt like she'd been punched in the gut by the Whomping Willow. He was outright asking her to change sides of a war. She tried her best to remain expressionless. In the end, no matter how much she wanted, no matter how much it hurts… she couldn't quite make herself believe they could ever be on the same side.

She wasn't hearing this. She couldn't be. The Harry she knew wouldn't ask something like that of her.

"I don't want him…" she forced out, "I want you. I know - roughly - what I need to do from here on... I just need the support to do it."

"To do what?"

"I don't - have - a plan yet!"

In Merlin's name, he could make her angry without even trying.

"But as soon as I know I have allies I can make one in accordanc-"

"Oh, Daphne, stop it!"

He raised his voice again and she sank away from his face. He was the only man capable of intimidating her; it was because he was the only man whose opinion truly mattered to her.

She knew trying further was pointless, he was seeing right through everything she was doing.

"Don't raise your voice at me, Harry."

Her words came out way more threatening than she intended, but that was her second nature when on the defensive. Her intention aside, what she said registered with him and she saw his shoulders noticeably deflate a little.

This was why she had wanted time before speaking to him again. It was a dangerous game she was playing and a single foot out of line could spell disaster. There was a lot she wanted to say to him, but it was going to take time to figure out what she could say to him. It wasn't a case of all cards on the table, as much as she wanted it to be, now it just meant holding them closer to her chest now than ever.

He was trying to help her, she wanted his help, it should be as simple as that. That's all that should matter anymore - and maybe last night it had been like that - but it wasn't now.

"Are you staying for the Christmas holidays?"

He seemed taken aback by the sudden and out-of-nowhere question.

"I'm staying with Sirius... Why?"

"Father doesn't want me back," Daphne sighed. "That's not permanent, I imagine... but the way things have been going recently it it probably for the best me and him aren't together for a while. If you were staying as well then, I thought… but never mind... it doesn't matter."

"You thought what?"

He moved closer to her again.

This time, while she didn't retreat from him, she turned her back on him. Talking to an empty wall felt a lot easier than having to look him in the eye.

"I thought…" she repeated, "... maybe, we could spend some time together. Figure out what the plan is... That is, if you did still want to help me?"

"Of course I do, Daphne. That's all I've wanted this whole time."

She didn't hear him reach her. If he had seen the look on her face, he might have thought twice about it.

His arms moved in around her shoulders and the tentative softness of his breath came to her ears. She abandoned any withstanding restraint, within seconds of contact she could feel herself melting into him. She was being held tight against his chest. His arms were so strong and warm, and his breath touched her hair in the softest caress... Just him breathing in her presence was enough to make her heart flutter.

By the old gods, this felt so much better sober than when she was drunk.

"You shouldn't touch me..." she said quietly.

"Should I stop?"

She swallowed before answering, trying to fight off the redness rising in her cheeks.

"No…"

If it didn't feel so good, Daphne would have been disgusted in herself with how quickly she left her guard down. She wanted every inch of herself to collapse back into him. Had he gotten taller since last year? They usually had equal footing, but now he seemed inches above her.

"I never needed to ask before?" his voice pricked the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Things are different now..." she grumbled, "We're having a conversation, it doesn't mean we're back together."

His chest deflated. She might have been maybe too much attention to it, or maybe it was wishful thinking, but his sigh sounded disappointed.

"We shouldn't even be talking, Harry. You're in danger around me..." she said quietly. "... you need to be scared."

He chuckled, she felt the vibration of it against her back.

"I'm bloody terrified," his mouth was inches from her ear. "But being scared and still doing what needs to be done is what makes you brave."

She lowered her chin against his arm, which were wrapped around her chest.

"Idiot Gryffindor..." she cursed him.

He lout out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a tut. Her body moved limply with the rise and fall of his chest.

Way too soon, he released her. If she'd have taken a second longer to break from her trance, she'd have dropped uselessly to the floor.

When the time she was able to face him, a startling face of excitement met her.

"You should come with me!"

"What?"

"Come with me for the holidays, it's perfect! We have a safe house where you could meet the Order of the Phoenix, you'd be completely safe there, nobody would even know!"

She lifted her head, an instant scowl gathering on her face. Why would he suggest something so ridiculous?

"Harry, don't be absur-"

"No, genuinely, just think!" he jumped in quick. "I'll take you to them and you just tell them everything you've told me. Say you're conflicted and you don't want to be a Death Eater but you got forced into it. They will understand that, I promise! They can help you figure things out, plus, there's so much protection that even if Voldemort found out - which he couldn't - there's nothing he'd be able to do about it!"

He had spoken so quickly and been so enthusiastic about his idea, she almost felt bad shutting him down. Daphne's mouth compressed into a thin, bitter line.

If not for the repercussions that would follow, she'd love to agree to everything he was proposing without limit. If they could spend Christmas together, even if it was just for one day, then Sacred Twenty-Eight could become the Sacred Twenty-Seven for all she cared. She'd love to let the scandal come. It wouldn't destroy their lives, not their real ones anyway, just the ones they manufactured for people to see. It'd all be worth it for the trade.

She cursed him for even suggesting something such a thing. Her heart didn't need his help getting it's hope up.

"I appreciate what you're offering, really… But that's too far. That is just…"

This - right now - was what she needed. To be here with him, and back in the privacy of a classroom all to themselves.

"Daphne…"

She turned to him, pulling herself reluctantly from his exchange.

"No, Harry. I mean it. You're asking me is to defect from the Death Eaters and betray my father. I simply cannot do that.. and trust me, it's not through lack of want, either."

"But nobody has to know about it?"

Daphne gave a weary, nostalgic-ridden smile.

"I seem to recall us making similar promises to each other once upon a time... look how that turned out."

Harry, uneasy, looked to have finally conceded.

"Kind of a low blow. Things would be different this time."

"They are different this time. I'm different, this time. I'm making a stand against my father and those with ill intent… but I need to do it my way. This is far bigger than either of us and one foot out of line could get us killed."