When lessons finally began again, Daphne felt herself be catapulted back into her comfort zone. Doing revision was one thing, but with no drive and a mind full of anxiety, it never lasted long before creeping worries made themselves known to her. Now that she was forced to focus entirely on the work placed before her, her choice had been taken away and her mind of the outside world cleansed entirely. The level of clarity that hit her as she unravelled a fresh roll of parchment was palpable.
Despite everything that had been told or done to her these past weeks, she only truly felt she entered the safe zone, ironically, as her year drained into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. It was the one lesson that she, Tracey and Dominique all shared, and after the Professor explained today they would be practising healing spells, they then moved into groups to practise on each other. Since her outburst at the start of the year, she did well keeping as little attention on herself in Professor Snape's lessons as she could, not just because of the building tensions between the two of them, but also because it felt like her housemates were waiting on her to start something. Whenever she was chosen to give an answer or demonstrate a spell, she was met with hushed whispers, and not in the way she would have liked.
Though the attention was still not fully off her, it was definitely decreasing as time went on. She even found Pansy's glares coming her way less and less. It was ironic that now she was finally back to sneaking around behind the schools back, that's when everyone is suddenly fine with her.
The lesson flew by in no time. Each of them had performed their spells with relative ease. Daphne was the quickest and most efficient, Tracey's was very similar albeit slower, and after struggling initially, Dominique got it too. After copying down their homework assignments, the class was dismissed. Euphoria still thick in her mind, Daphne came to slow down behind the rest of her classmates. Tracey and Dominique glanced back at her.
"Sup?"
"I have plans," she answered plainly. "I will see you tomorrow."
Tracey's eye light up with a devilish glimmer
"Don't do anythin' I wouldn't do! And definitely don't do anythin' I would do!"
Politely excusing herself, she waited until the rest of their year had left the classroom and began again, heading down the opposite direction. Dominique gave a short wave, while Tracey finger gunned her and grinned the whole until she disappeared around a corner. The contrast of their reactions, side-by-side, was quite amusing. Suppose opposites did have a habit of attracting.
She still hadn't decided what to do yet about Tracey's crush on Dominique, in light of the recent discovery she had made about the girl. It would be irresponsible and cruel to allow her half-sister to continue pining after someone with questionable morals, so something would definitely have to be done, but quite what that was, however, was a topic she would worry about at a later date. Tonight was entirely her own.
Moving alone, Daphne followed the path the torches lay out through the empty corridors. She didn't have long before curfew, but she didn't have to worry about being caught out late, now that she was a Prefect. As expected, the corridors were deserted. The lesson they had just finished had been one of the extra evening ones only sixth and seventh years took, meaning tea in the Great Hall was long over and she was likely the only one out and about at this time. The silence blaring from the classrooms as she passed confirmed as such.
Orange sunlight streamed into the corridor from outside. The castle was rather warm tonight, which struck her as odd, considering they were still in the recovering weeks of winter.
She thought she might have struggled to find it, considering it was well over a year since she was last there and the hallways had a habit of looking identical, but her movement memory took her right back to the familiar spot with no hesitation. As she brought herself around the last few turns, she found herself growing in excitement.
Finally, she had arrived. The spot was empty, but she knew that wasn't as likely as it appeared. Her head turned slightly, registering the sound of footsteps behind her.
"It has certainly been a while since we frequented this room together," she welcomed the footsteps.
She spoke into an empty corridor, but surprisingly, a response came.
"And a lot has happened since then," a voice came from a few feet behind her.
At that moment, a heavy sounding crackling noise occurred and a doorway began to materialise on the wall beside her. Harry shifted off his invisibility cloak, appearing in full before her.
After what felt like an eternity away, finally they were back. Months had passed since they'd had each other to themselves like this, but it felt like a lifetime away. As the door opened before her, she took a long steadying gaze around the familiar room, nostalgia sweeping into her system.
"Your rebellion... thing... disbanded, I take it?" she asked curiously.
Harry nodded, folding up his cloak and taking the lead inside.
"Didn't need it after Umbridge. Why, you going to give me detention if not?" he chuckled playfully.
But his smile was met back by her own blank stare.
"I am a Prefect now, not just in the Inquisitorial Squad. Which means I can give you detention without a teacher's permission."
That just made him just grin harder.
"But only if I've been naughty?"
She forced pressure against her teeth. At his words, she had to fight hard against a redness spreading rapidly across her face. Ideally, she wanted to be able to scold him for that, to artificially extend the banter she had so painfully missed, but reluctantly decided to move away instead.
"I'll prepare some tea, shall I?"
She went to the familiar tea set and set about working, as she had done a dozen times or so before last year. She looked to Harry to see whether he was going to say anything, but saw him looking back, doing the same.
Back to basics it was then, she thought, taking the lead.
"How are things with you?"
"Good, actually! Yeah, really good."
He swayed on the spot a little. There was some mild and curious nervousness in his voice that she thought was quite cute. Then, it took him longer than it should to figure out he should extend her the same courtesy.
"And you?" he asked quickly.
As she poured herself and him a cup of the smoking tea, she struggled to find a smile. This wasn't through dishonesty, but rather, a struggle to open up so freely.
"Honestly… a lot better," she said genuinely.
But then, she realised that if both of them were acting shy, then they probably wouldn't get much accomplished tonight, and forced the words from her mouth.
"It's beginning to feel as though some great weight has been lifted… Things feel better in a way I would struggle to describe," she expanded, though now with her eyes facing the table.
By the time she had placed two steaming cups of tea onto a tray and brought them over, Harry had moved and made himself at home on one of the burgundy settees. He slouched with an arm outstretched beside him. She put the tray down and brought herself to him, but after a careful moment of consideration, decided against falling into the welcoming arm he was offering.
"I was able to patch things up with Tracey after what you told me about her, thank you. I've also caught her up with what happened over the holidays. She knows everything, I hope you don't mind."
He did a polite nod, though looked a little disappointed.
"Yeah, that's fine. Same with Ron, Hermione and Hagrid. They know everything, 'thought it best."
She initially smiled into her teacup, but then dropped that expression when she saw he was not joking.
"You did not… did you?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "I did the whole lying thing last year, I wasn't going to make the same mistake."
She placed the teacup down quickly.
"But you didn't tell them about me being a Death Eater?"
Instantly, it was as though a dark shadow had been cast across his face. That look said enough. Her stomach gave way beneath her. He noticed and pulled back a few inches.
"You promised you would not tell!"
"I promised I would help you," he was quick to say in a reassuring voice, "They're not going to tell anybody, and them not knowing would only make things worse for us in the long run."
She poofed out her cheeks in protest, but otherwise couldn't find much to argue about. Though the idea didn't sit right with her, she did have to admit it probably wasn't a warrant of an argument. She pushed her lips into a thin line and brought the teacup back up.
"You should have consulted me first."
Harry, for the first time, did look apologetic.
"I'm sorry, but like I said, it's for the best," he shrugged.
Taking a sip, she eyed him over the rim of her china.
The attitude he was displaying wasn't his usual. Frankly, she almost respected the lack of compromise he was offering. He was making it very clear that he was right and it wasn't something they were going to discuss further. She did enjoy the rare occasions he was able to take charge, maybe it was because it was such a far cry from the nervous boy who had first approached her last year?
Far too satisfied with his answer, Daphne brought the teacup finally to her lips and drank, scolding her tongue a little in the progress.
In the back of her head, she wished they had something a little stronger than just tea to share between them. It would certainly make tackling the issues she knew were on the horizon a lot easier. They had a lot to talk about and discuss, no doubt about that, but the question was where to even begin? The path ahead of them was unclear and it was relying on them to figure it out. She said she wanted help and now she was staring it in the face, so where did they begin? Eventually, she just decided to throw them both into it.
"My father has been going absolutely spare. I haven't responded to any of his letters since he asked me to stay in school over Christmas."
Harry's face warmed up at the prospect, but then he frowned.
"Will that not just make him more annoyed?"
She took another sip before answering.
"I couldn't care less. That man has done nothing but make my life worse for me. Though, the thought had occurred to let him know where I spent Christmas. Then I'd probably be receiving more than a simple letter back, but it would also do well to convince him I'm making progress in my…"
Her words grew silent, losing confidence. Even though Harry knew all about the mission the Dark Lord had set for her and had even seen her mark a number of times now, it still felt wrong to be acknowledging it so readily.
He nodded, either out of pity or understanding.
"Dumbledore wants you to speak out against him… have you decided?"
Again, her response was awkward. Putting her thoughts and feelings into words had suddenly become a lot more difficult than it was a few moments ago.
"It… has been on my mind," she said very slowly, "I'm struggling to come up with ways that won't incriminate me in the process... but, it has indeed been on my mind."
He nodded again, clearly catching that the subject was a little too much for her. It seemed that had been a question he'd been wanting to ask since they first met tonight, because now in its wake, he seemed more quiet than usual.
"Everything okay?" she asked softly.
His eyes quickly met hers, almost as though he had forgotten she was in the room with him.
"Fine, yeah. Just difficult, is all. Lupin thinks the Ministry is going to try and put the attack on the Burrow on to the werewolves, so Sirius is really pushing me on it. They really want you to speak out publicly."
His tone instilled a kind of feeling inside her that, although she was used to it, it was never around Harry that she was used to feeling it. It was shame. Pure, unadulterated shame. Shame for not keeping to her word. Shame for letting someone down.
She inched her knee across, so that it was now leaning across his lap.
"I understand. And, I also know it's probably an inevitability. I just need to work my way towards it."
She tried to convey the messy emotions that were fluttering in her stomach into words, but had no idea how well it came across.
He nodded appreciatively, somehow making her feel even worse, and finally began on the tea she had prepared for him.
"This is lovely," he said after a few swigs.
She nodded politely, but doing so was only curtsy. It was her time to ask the question that had been on her mind.
"What is your godfather doing in the castle, may I ask?"
He perked an eyebrow at her.
"Sirius is here?"
She nodded, carrying on to explain.
"I saw him and Tonks with Professor Snape in the courtyard yesterday. He let onto me while I was around my housemates, please, ask him to refrain from doing that in future."
She saw the beginnings of a smile form over his lips, but was quickly controlled as he nodded importantly.
"Yeah. He said Aurors are going to start spending more time around the castle. They're taking turns staying in Hogsmeade."
She moved to retake her own teacup again and let out a cold laugh.
"Father won't like that…"
Harry met her with a look that she understood all too instantly.
"Not on my behalf, though?" she asked quickly.
He winced so hard that it looked as though he'd taken a bit out of a rather sour lemon.
"Probably not?"
His high-pitched voice didn't sound very sure of himself.
"It's something they've been pushing the Ministry for a while now. I think you were the final straw."
The sinking feeling at the pit of Daphne's stomach suddenly made itself known again.
The Order of the Phoenix was guarding the castle for her. Inside, she was struggling between emotions. Part of her felt embarrassed for the fuss, another part felt helpless and ashamed at requiring the help, then, overshadowing them both, a much larger part was utterly terrified about how her father would react if he knew that what she had done. She was actively making steps to help the enemy. Although, the Order wasn't the enemy to her now.
She washed away her rising anxieties with another gulp of tea.
That guttural reaction was probably something she would be living with for a while. Though her head was solved on the idea, apparently her heart and her stomach still needed time to adjust. But again, this was probably just one of the many side effects living life as a traitor would bring.
"Sirius is having the talk with the rest of them this weekend."
For some reason, the idea of that made her stomach shrivel up.
"Who else is in the Order?" she asked, fearing the answer.
"Bloody hell… everyone, really? Outside from who you've met, there's Mad Eye-Moody, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks' mum and dad, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt… Penny and Beatrice Haywood, Tulip Karasu…"
His words got quieter and quieter until he turned to her, a sullen expression on his face.
"Hang on, should I be telling a Death Eater all this?"
She couldn't help it. It wasn't the fact his joke was actually funny, quite the opposite, the sheer gall of it impressed her that much that an obnoxiously ugly snort exploded out of her mouth before she was able to stop it.
She slapped a hand over her mouth quickly afterwards, and set about glaring lethal daggers at Harry.
"That's not funny."
"It was a bit."
He was right, but she wouldn't let him know that.
In fact, that was the first time her being a Death Eater had been brought up and she'd felt any emotion other than shame. Trust him to be the only person capable of making her laugh over it.
Butterflies now rampant in her stomach, Daphne carefully lowered herself backwards into the settee, closer to his outstretched arm, but not entirely giving in just yet. She did, however uncurl her knee so her leg was now fully stretched over him. Wearing her usual skirt and thigh-length socks, this meant that a small section of her bare leg was now exposed to him. He noticed this and responded as such, shrinking automatically back into his shell of shyness.
Satisfied they were now even, Daphne gave a thin, cruel smile.
"I hope the rest of the Order is as understanding and courtesy as your godfather is. He's quite the respectable gentleman."
Harry looked to have no clue what she was talking about for a second, then he was able to get his attention away from her leg and back onto the topic.
"Sirius is fantastic. Genuinely. And he likes you, which is good. He's fully supportive of you and of us."
She nodded. That made her feel good, but she couldn't quite explain why. Suppose he was as much of a father figure as Harry would have had, was that the equivalent of having a parent's approval?
"You still haven't told me how an infamous mass murderer is your godfather."
"He isn't a mass-"
She interrupted him quickly with a deadpan voice.
"It was a joke."
Just when it looked like he was about to go on a berserk tirade, his face and chest deflated quite suddenly. Daphne nudged him with her teacup.
"Tell me the story, we have time."
And so he did. It took a few moments before the words began to flow freely, then he dived into the depths of the long and complicated story that happened to him in his third year, and the relationship surrounding his godfather, Sirius Black. She listened intently and soon found herself picturing his words in her head. For some reason it was difficult to imagine Professor Lupin young and in school, and she also struggled to picture what Harry's father could look like without just aging him up - though based on description, that would have been a fairly accurate depiction anyway.
Somewhere along the way, she decided to stop playing hard to get. The pressure she usually kept in her lower back relaxed and she slouched into the settee.
Her hair pressed gently against the fingers of his hand, the one still outstretched along the back. As he spoke, his fingertips began to interlace with strands of it, but he looked so deep into recounting his story he appeared not even to notice. And this was how they found themselves for the next half an hour. Harry spoke passionately about his family for the first time, and Daphne was eager to hear him. As he twiddled strands of her hair between his index finger and thumb, each sweep of his fingers sent a small electric tingle through her head and directly to her heart, causing it to leap a few inches higher with every beat. It made her have to focus hard on listening to his story, when she felt like a cat being stroked.
For a second he realised what he was doing, and to her dismay, looked like he was going to stop. So instead, she brought her face to his arm, planting her cheek firmly against it and shifting her weight onto him. Staring up at him, she watched as his words tripped him up.
"And... and so Sirius was in hiding until… well, until the battle in the ministry. After that, he was proved right. Now he's got Order of Merlin, First Class and… and I think Bathilda Bagshot is writing a book. About him, I mean."
She did enjoy seeing him squirm. Her lips pressed into a thin smirk, one so subtle probably even he wouldn't be able to see, and she nodded.
"Twelve years as a rodent… it's a wonder that man isn't mad…"
Now she actually thought on the subject, she did distinctly remember a man of Pettigrews likeness serving her father the night of her Longinius heist.
"Sirius broke out to kill him. And I should have let him, because if I hadn't, Voldemort wouldn't have been able to come back."
It was as though he had suddenly grabbed a lock of her hair and tore it from her head as hard as he could. She winced harshly, bringing her face down.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly.
She steadied herself, then brought her face back to his arm.
"No, no. My fault. It's about time I start getting used to that…"
Though it was difficult to tell, looking up at him sideways, she was sure he had a very satisfied look on his face at that.
"My father was in the Order of the Phoenix with Sirius and Lupin as well. I'm pretty sure between the four of them and Dumbledore, they were it's founding members."
Any discomfort she felt hearing the Dark Lords name was forgotten in an instant. His smile always did wonders for her. It made her head go hot and dizzy and it felt as though nothing in the world could ever be wrong. He had been very passionate while he'd been talking about his father and his friends, maybe the most enthusiastic she had ever seen him. It made her wonder why they hadn't had this conversation before.
"You don't talk about your parents often."
Her words came out as very dream-like. Suppose that was a side effect of her melting so much into him. He gave a sad but reassured smile.
"I don't remember them, really. Everyone expects it to be a sensitive subject, but I never really knew them long enough to feel the loss. That sounds bad, I know, but.."
"I understand," she offered him back an equally false laugh. "If it's any consolation, having parents isn't all it's cracked up to be. My father's a xenophobic psychopath and mothers a gyspy."
He looked back to her, amused at the joke, but not enough to laugh.
"My dad used to be a Seeker. And my mum was in the Slug Club, she was fantastic at potions."
"All the same as you, then... minus the latter."
His face screwed up as he acted mock offended.
"I have gotten fantastic at potions recently, I'll have you know!"
"Probably because you had a good tutor."
She brought her lips back into their sly grin, more obvious this time, and gave him some mocking of her own. He pulled back, smiling gently to himself.
"Well, we are all just the culmination of our parents blood. Your father was a seeker and he passed that into you, your mother had a taste for the finer things, and now here you are with me," his laugh briefly interrupted her, "My father was a Death Eater, now so am I. You'd think that's bad enough already, but I'm just happy Tracey got all mothers traits."
"You're actually talking about your mum?"
She mused the thought for a moment.
"Yes, I suppose I am."
He looked to think very carefully before saying his next words.
"Why'd you never tell me she was muggleborn?"
The words crept over her unpleasantly. If it were anyone else, they'd be getting a very different reaction from her. But her guard was lowering by the minute, if he asked, she'd probably feel fine baring any dark secret to him right now.
"It's not something one flaunts about. Not someone like me, anyway. Tracey can do it to her heart's content, but she is shameless. I don't have that luxury."
But the box had been opened. Memories and feelings she often tried to hide from where filling her once again. The difference - the startling, otherworldly difference - was that for the first time since she could remember, it was a pleasant feeling. It felt like nothing could hurt her here, with his warmth on her face, and likewise, her relationship with her mother suddenly looked a lot more hopeful of late.
"Come to think of it…"
"What?"
She looked back up at him.
"What years did your father attend Hogwarts?"
He breathed slow, unsure.
"Probably… Nineteen seventy to seventy eight? Why?"
It took a moment for things to click together. Slowly, an amused grin overtook her face.
"What?"
She brought her head up so she could look smugly down her nose at him.
"My mother was the Gryffindor Beater between nineteen seventy five to seventy eight. Which meant… our parents were teammates."
Harry looked absolutely gobsmacked. And truth be told, Daphne felt much the same way.
"Seriously?"
"Trust me, I'd know! She kept the Quidditch trophy on the mantelpiece."
She rarely let her thoughts dwell on that of Moira Davis, but right now she could picture her clear as day. And the old grainy photography taken on the training pitch, with the Quidditch cup award that hung beside it. To think she had a connection to Harry all these years and her bone idleness had stopped her from seeing it… maybe in a world without the war, who was to say what could have happened? Maybe they could have even been childhood friends?
"I had no idea," he said distantly.
She looked back to him, and saw his expression matched his voice, and looked a million miles away from her.
"I could probably ask her if she has any old pictures… if you wanted."
He looked to her quite suddenly, cheerfully.
"I'd really like that, yeah."
With their eyes together, she took the opportunity to lower her face back against his arm. It was important to her that he watched her do it. He needed to know it was intentional.
"Of course, it shan't be until the next time I see her… whenever that will be. We didn't leave things off on the best foot. But I have a good feeling she will be happy with the recent developments. She never was supportive of the dark arts, it's what drove her and father apart. And her and Tracey's father. The woman apparently had a thing for bad boys."
He struggled with a laugh.
"Yeah, but not terrorists, Daphne. You say they're like each other?"
She nodded, the image of her mother now at the foremost of her mind. Again, it was a strange sensation delving into the topic without the usual feelings of hate and perfidy that usually followed.
"Just as stubborn and as brilliant, yes. And as brilliantly stubborn."
"Suppose that's where she got her skill on a broom, then?"
Thoughts came rushing back to her. Thoughts of Tracey during the Qudditch practise, and the amazing feats she'd never have thought her capable of. Those two aspects did suddenly make a lot of sense to her. Tracey clearly inherited more than just their mother's snarky attitude, then? Her mouth dropped open a few inches as she struggled to find the right words.
"Oh! Don't get me started! She is amazing on a broom, frankly I was quite stunned. I knew she enjoyed the sport but I had no idea she could fly so well!"
Though his laugh was forced, it was noticeably playful.
"Yeah… she's almost as good as me."
"It's a shame I was…" she struggled for the right word, awkwardly, "I was busy the night of your match. It would have been quite amusing seeing the two of you against each other. Dare I say, I wouldn't know who to root for?"
"There's still a chance. If they win their next match against Hufflepuff and we win against Ravenclaw, then the match for the cup will be a rematch between us."
A guilty feeling crept in. She genuinely wouldn't know who to route her, in that situation.
"That's certainly something to look forward to."
Though the memory lane was nice, she didn't entirely want to risk lingering on the subject of her mother. A lot of the boundaries she had crossed of late were a long time coming, but those wounds were still fresh. She was having a good night, the best she had done in a long time, and wasn't going to do anything to ruin it. Pushing past, she elected to move away from the past and focus instead on the future.
With a cough, she brought her voice back to it's full energy.
"The first Hogsmede trip is on soon. I will be escorting the third years and I plan to get you a Christmas present while I'm down there, is there anything in particular you would like?"
"Why?"
"Because you're my…"
The words got stuck in her throat. She had fallen into the exact same trapping he had done over Christmas. And just like him, she lacked the nerve to stick to her feelings.
"Because you got me something and it's only proper that I do the same," she settled on.
"Daphne, I'm not bothered about any of that-"
"The only opinion I'm asking for - !" she said quickly, cutting him off, "... is what you want. I am getting you something and you will enjoy it."
He laughed quite suddenly and shook his head. She felt she should probably scold him for that, and gave him a glare down her nose. Unfortunately that just made him smile harder.
He gestured down at her chest.
"Where is the locket, anyway?"
She followed his eyes, for some reason. She indeed wasn't wearing the locket, and in fact hadn't worn it at all since he'd gave it to her. Whatever guilt she felt from that was drowned out by the sound head on her shoulders.
"Locked safely away in my dresser," she said curtly. "You believe me daft enough to wear it around the school?"
He shrugged.
"I mean, it is why I gave it to you."
"Harry, it is priceless!" she shot back.
Then, when she saw the look on his face, softened up a bit.
"... And it is important to me, so I am keeping it safe, locked away."
As she said her piece, it came out with an air of finality about it. He seemed to understand her reasons, or if not, at the very least he respected them and didn't push further.
This kicked off a number of minutes were nothing else was said between the two. She remained where she lay, her face squashed against his arm, watching him, while he seemed to stare out into the oblivion. Seemed - being the keyword there. She caught him looking back to check she was still looking at him a few times, but apparently nerves or something else kept him from holding her gaze. It was only ever when they had intimate moments like this he got nervous. She enjoyed seeing him squirm under her little finger. She enjoyed it, and more than that, she missed it.
Finally, she decided he'd had enough. It was unfair to continue teasing him the way she used to, now that their current situation was so thoroughly undefined. Before the holidays she had told both herself and him that he shouldn't go getting any wrong ideas about their relation to each other, then she'd gone and broken her own rules no less than two days later. As much as she enjoyed it, some vague part of her recognised it would cause more trouble than it was worth, and that part was finally in control.
She brought her legs off the settee and she sat up, straightening out her back. She glanced at the wall mounted clock and saw they had been in here two hours already. Time was not massively of the essence to her, she knew, but it was still amazing how it felt when they were together. She brought her hand to her hair. He had done a good job at brushing it for her, even if he had only been using her fingers. Her blonde locks felt soft and much curlier than usual.
"There's something I wanted to ask you," he said from beside her.
For some reason, her stomach did a quick somersault. He rarely sought permission before asking something. A flurry of emotions made itself known inside her. What could be such a big question that he approaches it like this? Keeping her face hidden behind the wall of hair, she fought to keep her cool.
"Well, I am listening."
"It's more of a favour, really."
She deflated a little and turned back to him. Her hopes that he finally had gotten the nerve to ask her washed down the drain.
"Ah… what is it?"
He struggled for a minute.
"Can you... try to keep an open mind for it?"
Her interest was piqued again, and in less-than-innocent ways. Against her better judgement, she pushed forward.
"... Go on."
Then he nodded, but it looked more to himself than to her.
"When I told my friends about us, they weren't very sure. They trust me, but they want a chance to judge you for themselves. I said the four of us could meet up sometime."
Her face scrunched up unpleasantly.
"Secrets don't mean much to you, do they?"
He, somehow, pulled off the puppy-dog eyes that Astoria had become so well known for, absolutely perfectly.
"Please don't be like that…"
And just like when Astoria did them, they tugged her frozen heart strings with an unforgiving grasp.
"Your friends… You mean Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, I presume?"
"And Hagrid, but there's less of a rush with that."
She pushed the breath from her lungs. She was more annoyed than she would readily show him. Annoyed about what, she couldn't quite figure out, but it was probably down to the prospect of having a nice meeting like this interrupted by the inclusion of others.
"That will be fine, then. I will not pretend to be thrilled about it, but… it's the least I can do, with the help you've given me."
She couldn't possibly imagine it going anything worse than when she first met the Order, anyway. He seemed very happy with that answer. And apparently, it had given him the final push of courage he needed.
He brought his lips to meet hers. It took her quite by shock, but she didn't pull away. She held her breath, in fact, stuck somewhere between surprised and happy. But that conflict quickly melted as a rush of gooey warmth swept her system and she began to return his actions.
They kissed gently and slowly. They had time to enjoy themselves, and a lot of time to make up for. The warmth of another person's lips was unlike anything she ever experienced. There was nothing that could replicate it. Hot showers, heated bed covers, fireplaces, nothing came remotely close to the kind of organic, beautiful heat of another person. It transcended everything she had come to know about the world and what made her happy. It was the only heat that could melt the ice queen.
She pulled back from him. It was different when he was doing it. She didn't want him getting the wrong idea, she didn't want him to feel like they were more than they were.
But she was lying to herself. It was no different to when he instigated it than to when she did. It made her just as happy, and filled her with the same sense of belonging she so often sort after.
Finally, he asked the question she'd been waiting for, barely more than a whisper.
"What are we?"
She knew it was coming. She knew she'd given such mixed signals the past few weeks, it was only a matter of time before he called her on it. And she'd been counting on it, because her answer was already prepared. Mirroring his tone, little more than a whimper, she replied.
"What do you want us to be?"
He was silent. It was only for a short time, but it felt a lot longer. He was quiet, then, after the anticipation had set in the air for a while, he gave the answer she was hoping for the most in the world.
"Right here. Together."
She smiled. Wide and proud. No Ice Queen, just Daphne Greengrass, grinning broadly at her boyfriend, Harry Potter.
"Then, there's your answer."
He laughed. It was relatively out of nowhere, but she didn't care. She joined in, and brought an embarrassed hand to her face. She glanced up at the clock again.
"Technically, I am on duty right now... Which means I don't have a curfew."
He caught her cheeky gaze. They both thought the same thing and quickly brought themselves together again.
Important A/N - Video Alert! I've been a writer of Haphne for almost a decade now, recently I've been working on a video essay examining Daphne's fandom popularity, Ice Queen persona that has come to be associated with her and Harry Potter fanfiction as a whole. It's finally finished and uploaded, it's called "The Most Popular HP Character You've Never Heard Of" and my channel name is Hadley. It features custom artwork of both Daphne and Tracey Davis, includes some fanfic recommendations and even references this series a handful of times. Considering how popular the character is, it's shocking she gets so little exposure in other platforms, I figured it was about time we fixed that. Please do check it out, it's your guys love and feedback that inspired me to make it. I really hope you guys enjoy it!
And if you do enjoy, chuck us a cheeky like and subscribe, we need all the traction we can get ;) The vid has already done very well and so I have a second one on the subject matter coming, which will probably already be up by the time you read this! Thank you all again.
