By the time Harry reached the library that much awaited evening, the back of his neck was already shining in sweat.
Picturing all of this in his head seemed a lot easier than it was playing out to be.
He started looking for a table to suit their needs. It would have to be hidden away from the public eye, a task which was difficult because even though there were not that many in at this time, everyone was sitting at their own tables. That meant no privacy, which was bad for them. They did not need word getting out about this, not after all that social drama seemed finally over with.
Then, he noticed a familiar head of yellow hair by the Restricted section. She was early. He approached cautiously - it was hard to tell whether she was concentrating or not, her expression held perfectly still as she scanned the book in her hands.
"You're early?"
Her head snapped from her book and closed it in an instant.
"Where are your friends?"
No formalities, no polite conversation, she was straight to the point. He still couldn't decide if that humiliated or captivated him.
"This is where they're meeting us, so they mustn't be here yet. Should we look for somewhere?"
Daphne pulled herself quickly up from the table. He noticed this and tried a hand of reassurance.
"Just play it cool. Be yourself."
But her shoulder avoided him.
"I have nothing to prove."
The alarm in her voice was apparent. It might not have been to the regular person, but he knew the difference between comfort-zone-Ice-Queen-Daphne and defence-mechanism-Ice-Queen-Daphne. She was extremely nervous right now, he couldn't imagine why, but it wouldn't make anything that was about to happen any easier. He was getting quite good at tackling life problems head on recently, but at the same time, he couldn't afford Daphne working against him on this.
The plan was for them all to revise together tonight. No pressure on making conversation or becoming friends, just starting little and getting used to one another's company. It was easy, in concept, but as the time grew closer and closer he found himself growing ever more doubtful. He knew it was just nerves talking, but this was the first time he would be bringing together two big aspects of his life, and that mattered to him. The Department of Mysteries didn't count, this would be the first true meeting of his friends and his girlfriend.
Eventually she and him ended up waiting by the entrance of the library for his friends to show, albeit far enough apart that they didn't immediately strike as being there together. Students walked past them in the other direction, which was good, though he was unable to pinpoint quite which tables they had just freed up. Soon the time came. Ron and Hermione arrived, bringing with them their book bags and revision books, and with that latter very much taking the lead.
"Hello, Harry. Greengrass."
Ron was slower to greet her, and did so with a nod. Daphne was very still to them. Her eyes slid first to Hermione, then to Ron. Considering he knew how she probably felt, she was doing well at maintaining eye contact. Then again, he wouldn't put it past her for that to be some kind of intimidation play.
She eventually gave a nod of greeting back and the four of them joined together in a group. As they traced their ways back through the aisle of the library, Harry found the spot the students had recently vacated from, and it was as if the heavens themselves had aligned. Together, Harry, Daphne, Ron and Hermione seated themselves down on the very same table that their first tutor session on. If Daphne recognised it as such, she didn't let on.
For the longest moment, that was it. The four of them sat in silence and read. Though nothing was wrong, he couldn't escape the feeling that everything was wrong. Seeing his two big and very different parts of his life finally together felt like worlds colliding, and it made the anxiety bubbling away in his gut very noticeable in contrast to the soothing atmosphere of the library. The silence was eggshells around him. More time passed and nothing was said. This was the plan, for them all to get along during a revision session, but total silence wasn't quite how it was intended to go. He wished he could know what everyone was thinking.
He felt kind of guilty, given nobody wanted to be here except him, and now he was doing nothing to sooth the situation. Realising as such, he decided to do something about it.
"So, Daphne spent most of Christmas at Grimmauld Place with me and Sirius. She doesn't get into muggle London a lot, so it was a weird one for her."
Hermione looked up suddenly, as though he had actually disturbed her reading, which he didn't think was the case. Her eyes slowly drawled over to Daphne, who she smiled at.
"How did you like it?"
"It was… interesting."
Harry shot her a look, which she mercifully caught.
"Muggles… they live very interesting lives. Innovative, I mean. The Christmas decorations up in central London were marvellous, I'll give them that."
Hermione seemed pleased with that.
"They always make a big deal out of turning it on. I went a few times when I was a girl. You probably don't get to see many muggle towns, I suppose?"
She nodded.
"My mother and sister live in Manchester. Father and I would visit them there when I was a girl, but I haven't been properly in years. Other than that, there's an old english village a few miles from the manor I sometimes go horse riding through, it has a rather quaint charm about it."
It was difficult to describe, but he knew when Daphne wasn't being sincere. When she relaxed she spoke in the same tone, but more genuine and more down-to-earth. When she wasn't, she deliberately gave overly long sentences, trying to impress or intimidate he imagined. The way she was coming across right now, she wasn't even trying to be friendly. Even he would struggle making friends with her in her current state.
But, suppose it was still conversation? To his surprise Hermione actually looked interested in what she was saying, and her face lit up at the mention of horses.
"You keep horses? That's so lovely! I always wanted one."
She nodded again, but still not meeting her levels of enthusiasm.
"We did, not anymore. After Astoria came to Hogwarts we thought it unfair to leave them locked up for so long, so we sold them on. Terrance and Matilda, they were a pair of black and white Arabians."
Her tone was being deliberately difficult, almost condescending. Despite the detail, she was guarding her answers and playing her cards close to her chest. Harry gritted his teeth against the urge to say something. He knew they needed to be seen working together on this. The last thing he needed was an argument between them while trying to convince his friends she was on their side. Luckily, if Hermione did notice her tone, she soldered past it like a champ.
"Arabians are quite expensive, aren't they?"
"They're common among pureblood families. There's controversy surrounding whether they count as magical beasts or not, that's why they're so rare for muggles to acquire."
"Really? That is fascinating."
But yet, it seemed to be working? Hermione was fully invested. Come to think of it, this was the first time he had any idea that either of them had any interest in horses, and that was good, wasn't it? That meant it was an actual conversation, right?
Ron caught his eye for the first time. He looked uncomfortable, probably over the girlness of the topic, but equally as surprised that the conversation was happening at all. Harry fought a pained expression, urging him to let it play out.
"I could recommend you some reading material on it, if you like? There was an article in the recent edition of Scamander publications; a beginners guide to the discourse on if the Arabian horses and Woolly Mammoths class as magical beasts or not. It goes on to propose we can't classify one as non-magical without the other. It's quite an interesting think-piece."
Hermione leaned across her Astrology textbook.
"I've heard about that argument! Hasn't it all been up in the air since the seventies? Didn't Newt Scamander have to get involved?"
Daphne readjusted herself in her seat, interested.
"Scamander had to offer his professional opinion. He feels we shouldn't keep the creatures to ourselves, but that muggles might resume their hunting of the Mammoths if they were reintroduced. He wants the rule to be split evenly, which obviously can't happen."
"Why not?"
"Arabian horses and the mammoths simply tick off two many of the similar boxes. It would be too complicated treating one differently from the other. That whole section of the rulebook would have to be rewritten."
Harry sat with his mouth open. He didn't have to look to the side to know Ron was doing the same, and that there was only one thought bouncing around in their heads. Was this really what smart people talked about in their spare time?
Maybe he was being too pessimistic about how everyone would get on after all?
"Oh, look - it's not as awful a word as it's made out to be! It's only the muggleborns who decided it was a slur! I didn't mean it in a derogatory wa-"
But Hermione, red-faced and furious, didn't let her finish.
"It means dirty blood! How can that mean anything else?"
Daphne swept her hand through the air in a dismissive way.
"It's just a word! And I apologised! I wouldn't have done so if I didn't mean it!"
Far too late did it occur to Harry that he probably should have seen the conversation going south and stepped in. Again, everyone was here on his terms, which made it his responsibility to meditate the conversation. Then again, trying to force himself between Hermione and Daphne in an argument seemed like a death sentence. Still, this was on him and he couldn't just do nothing. The feeling of being isolated and attacked like this when already so far out of your comfort zone, that was exactly the kind of thing he promised to protect her against. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't try and stick up for her, so he tried to soften the conversation a little.
"She did say sorry without having to be told to…" he suggested sheepishly, quietly, "Is politics a great idea for us to really be talking about?"
Their arguments shot back and forth with quick succession, but fell all of a sudden. Attention turned to Harry, who for a moment was sure he was going to die. Daphne seemed happy he was taking her side, but annoyed that he thought she couldn't take care of herself. Hermione's face twisted as though he'd jabbed a knife into her stomach.
"Well considering she is a Death Eater, yes I bloody do think it's something that needs talking about!"
He couldn't help but feel betrayed by that. She had been the first one on his side in Hagrid's hut, but was the first to turn against him tonight. That was probably down to Daphne calling her a mudblood to her face, but still. Don't get him wrong he was angry about that as well, he just knew the importance of sorting out priorities.
Daphne's tone was growing impatient, but she was doing a good job of not letting them see how angry she was getting. He thought she was doing well at keeping a cap on her temper - the best he had ever seen, in fact - but her face was now red and she was struggling to keep quiet. This kind of hushed, menial argument was usually below her. Probably the only reason she'd degraded herself partaking in it was she knew she was wrong and justifying herself was important. The look on her face wasn't the one she had dealing with Tonks, but was more akin to their original potions lesson together, or the time he'd bore witness to a fight between Tracey and her. She looked positively ready to reach across the table and stab the next person who spoke - Hermione was doing incredibly well meeting her face-to-face.
No longer shouting, but otherwise retaining the tone of argument in her voice, Daphne shook her head sternly.
"I may be more conservative in my beliefs than you, but I am not a bad person! I would never harm or degrade somebody for what is out of their control!"
Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but at that point Ron finally worked up the nerve to join in and jumped between them. He pointed at Daphne with his finger out like the barrel of a gun.
"You called 'ermione a mudblood!"
Harry shot daggers at him, but it was nothing compared to the face he got from Daphne.
"By accident!"
"You still did it!"
She stuck out a hand to silence him. It wasn't directed at him, but he felt his lips seal tight at the authority that came with it.
"Look - purebloods and half bloods are brought up with the wizard world all around them! It just makes more logical sense that they would understand the customs more than someone only introduced to it at the age of eleven! That's all that I am saying!"
Hermione made an ugly noise, somewhere between a cough and a scoff. Maybe a scough?
"I have the highest marks in all the year!" she retorted.
But Daphne just grew more annoyed.
"Yes, and well done - but you're an exception, and what I just said isn't invalidated by that!"
Ron leaned back aggressively in his chair.
"Neville is a pureblood and he's bloody hopeless with magic!"
She let out a frustrated groan and brushed hair behind her ears. She was struggling to make her point, and though Harry wished he could help, he also couldn't say in good confidence that he actually agreed with her. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. She was now taking an entirely hostile stance towards his friends, but he felt powerless to do anything that wouldn't make them all worse off.
"That's magical power though, not culture! He will understand the intricacies of our world far more than Granger will because he was brought up by it, and didn't have it introduced to him! That's all I am stating! There's no use getting frustrated over it! I'm not insulting you, I'm just stating facts. Purebloods are brought up around wizarding culture and so they will have a greater understanding of it than a mudblood would do. And more often than not, they end up embarrassing themselves trying to understand it."
All too late, she seemed to realise her slip of tongue.
"YOU DID IT AGAIN!"
Daphne's face twisted in horror, but as she opened her mouth to, presumably apologise, Hermione lowered her face and let out a low, haunting chuckle. It was something quite unlike Harry had ever seen her do before. The air between them rippled with the heat of their enmity. They couldn't disguise it any more, somebody was going to get hurt now. Even Ron looked like he was beginning to understand the real nature of the conversation.
It was the final kick in the shins he needed to intervene, but he knew if he didn't then his girlfriend's safety was probably at stake.
"Right! Let's stop now!"
"Listen to me, you-"
"Be quiet! You are in the Library!"
Madam Pince had appeared from somewhere. Now attention had been drawn to their bickering, both girls seemed to have lost their nerve to carry on. Daphne's eyes sank to her lap and Hermione, looking like she was biting hard onto her tongue, simply set her gaze across the table to Daphne.
"Sorry, Madam Pince."
"We're sorry."
As Madam Pince snaked back between the isles, he hopefully wished that was the end of the argument. It shouldn't have gotten as far as it had in the first place, and it was his fault it had. Mercifully at this point he was able to catch Daphne's eye and sent her a pleading look. She tightened her lips at his stare words, clearly understanding the intent.
Slowly, and very forcefully, she let out a low sigh.
"I am sorry…" she started again, quietly, "... It's the culture I was raised in and I can't change that. I didn't mean to insult you. And I apologise for whatever future mishaps I will probably have. It's not my intent, it's a force of habit."
Hermione's arms were folded up on her chest. She didn't look as angry anymore. In quick concession Daphne then turned to Ron, who outright backed up in his seat.
"And you. Weasley. On my father's behalf, I am sorry for what happened to your house," she spoke loudly now, like announcing to the entire library. "His friends are cruel people and you did not deserve it. If I had access to his funds, I would pay for the place to be repaired with his money. I understand how it looks, but I promise you, all four of us are on the same side."
Despite her words of solidarity, they seemed to have no effect on Ron. He leaned nastily over the table top.
"Show us your arm, then."
"Ron!" Harry shouted.
But Daphne took the jab silently, a venomous visage frozen on her face.
"I could do it, you know. I have nothing to hide."
Hermione was quick to push herself between them, pulling Ron back to his seat by the scruff of his robes.
"Do not. Ron is being childish."
Without meaning it, Hermione had just stuck up for her. Trust her to take any opportunity to argue with Ron, but for once their bickering had just worked in his favour.
A short and awkward silence followed that confrontation. Daphne's stern eyes fell on each of them, expecting another attack to come from one of them. Ron was scrunched up in his seat where Hermione threw him, who herself had gone back to holding her arms over her chest in judgemental fashion.
Everybody was waiting for someone else to speak first. He should be happy nobody was arguing anymore, but he wasn't, because this was just about the worst case scenario he could have imagined.
"This is just bloody awkward!"
Ron had spoken in a stage whisper. He'd tried to pretend it was a hushed comment to Hermione, but had said it openly and loudly enough for everyone to hear. With her eyes remaining locked firmly on Daphne, she whispered back to him in an equally loud whisper.
"At least we are making conversation, which is more than you are doing!"
"I'm not about to pretend! All this 'oooo, did you get anythin' nice for christmas' bollocks? Bog off."
"We promised Harry we would make an effort, now will you please stop being such a brat!?"
"How the bloody hell am I being a brat?"
That probably made it his responsibility to cheer everyone up a little.
Daphne slowly brought herself back in her seat. Although it was only for a moment, she seemed instantly relaxed the attention was now off of her.
"You two bicker shouldn't bicker on my account... " she said dismissively.
It took all Harry's effort not to fall backwards off his chair at that He shouldn't have been so surprised at her extending a basic, common courtesy, but it went so far in the opposite direction of the conversation that he couldn't help his mouth drooping open a few inches.
Hermione let out a drawn out sigh, directly entirely at Ron.
"You'll find it's actually something quite common these days, actually."
But the mood has already changed. It no longer felt like a showdown between two swordsmen now. Well, it still did, but now it felt between Ron and Hermione instead.
Regardless, what was done was done and they were not in an aggressive situation anymore. Nothing had been left for anyone to naturally respond to. A change of topic was definitely due, but he didn't know it was the best idea he led with it again. Again, Harry fought a pained expression on his face.
There was a creeping feeling inside him that he had just witnessed something truly Slytherin. That wasn't just a common courtesy she'd said. Was there a chance Daphne had picked up on the animosity between them two and used it to her advantage? Did she draw attention to it specifically to derail their conversation? Harry doubted at, but at the same time, couldn't help but feel impressed and infinitely intimidated over the prospect.
After a few moments of shared heavy breathing, Hermione was again the one to take the lead.
"Well, then! How did you and Harry meet, Greengrass? Or should I call you Daphne?"
"Greengrass."
She, again, looked like she'd just received a very quick pain in the stomach. Harry glared across the table at Daphne. One victory was often all it took for her to get on the high horse. This time though, she elected not to see him.
"We served a detention with Professor Snape together. After that I took up tutoring him in Potions. We grew closer and then eventually agreed to give a relationship a try."
Hermione stifled with an amused laugh.
"Don't suppose you're the one who gave him that book, are you?"
Harry's head snapped across the table to her.
"What book?" she asked.
"Haven't you told her?"
He suddenly started feeling reluctant about turning to face the two girls.
"It's nothing. Just an old book I found. It's not a big deal."
But he knew the second it was mentioned that it was useless. Hermione had been chasing him up about that at any opportunity she had, and he didn't stand a chance at withholding information from Daphne. He became very aware of the book's placement in the bag beside his feet.
Hermione gestured to his girlfriend.
"Show it to her."
The full eyes of the argument were now on him. Part of him did want to share his latest interest with her, but another part of him was scared how she would react to it. Daphne had such a prim and proper way about her and would probably turn her nose up upon merely looking at the book. She'd probably say everything to him that Hermione had already said, but with five times the conviction and enough charm that he'd probably actually listen to her.
When he didn't move, she gestured again. Daphne began looking worried.
"Show me, Harry."
The look on her face made him cave. Whatever secrets the books held and however handy it had become to him, it simply was not worth starting an argument over. Especially not when things were so close to being all worked out.
He pulled his book bag off the floor and handed over the scrappy book. As expected, her face was one of repulsion as she took it in her hands.
"Whoever did this to a book is despicable."
She flicked through a few pages and noticed the graffiti immediately. As she slowed down to read it, he watched the look on her face begin to change.
"... But they seem to know what they are doing... This is very interesting..."
After a few more moments of this she finally looked up at him.
"May I borrow this?"
He had to resist the urge to smile, not just at the complete one-eighty of her attitude, but at the resulting noise Hermione made in response. Her idea had backfired, and Daphne taking his side felt extremely validating.
Hermione leaned and pointed.
"And the front page."
As she turned to the appropriate page, Hermione began to speak to the group as a whole.
"The Half Blood Prince. We can't figure out for the life of us who that is. There are no Princes in Europe with magical blood and definitely none of them attended Hogwarts. The only royal that I can find ever attending the school died in the seventeenth century, hundreds of years before the book's author was even born."
With her face buried, Daphne spoke without looking up.
"Prince isn't a title, it's a name."
For such a simple sentence, it had no business silencing the scene as much as it did. Harry and Ron's faces dropped; one could hear a pin drop on the other side of the castle. Daphne apparently noticed the sudden change of atmosphere and looked concerned, before her eyes narrowed.
"You are aware Prince is a common pureblood last name?"
Hermione looked as though her very world had ended. And nobody could blame her, either. To be hot off the heels on an argument like that, only to immediately have the other person's point proven right… He had never been so glad that he wasn't in someone else's shoes before.
Daphne leaned in, away from the ears of Madam Pince and with an unmistakable smugness on her lips.
"I'm not saying purebloods have a better grasp of the magical world than muggleborns do, but you're certainly proving that case fairly well."
He expected Hermione to explode at that, but the opposite, she remained still as a statue. She might as well have been petrified. The sheer look of embarrassment on her face almost made him want to look away and spare her the shame, but he absolutely couldn't. Though Daphne was absolutely in the wrong for what she called her earlier, it did feel good to see Hermione finally be caught out like that.
Ron nudged her.
"Have we checked to see Prince as a last name?"
She finally cracked. She shook her head, signalling her return to the room, and began rapidly packing up her things around her.
"No, I have not. I will get on that right away," she mumbled.
Daphne shook her head.
"That's embarrassing."
The venom in her voice was enough to cut the air of the classroom in half. Hermione's chair was slammed quickly down into the table. She left the area, understandably in a bad mood but managing to pretend she was calm.
He could feel Daphne's eyes burning into the side of his head. He smiled back at her.
"That could have gone worse?"
If he had been expecting her to grudgingly agree, he was expecting too much. Her glare doesn't falter at all.
"From the bottom of my heart, please - with all earnest - never have an idea again."
That actually earned her a chuckle from Ron.
At this point Harry tried to strike a balance between being quiet enough to not draw attention to himself but loud enough to drown out everyone else. Hermione had been the mitigatior of that, he didn't want to think what kind of argument could arise between Ron and Daphne without her. Instead he began trying to think of a way out. Progress had been made after all that, today wasn't a complete waste.
He opened his mouth to say something but realised there was no point. He frowned, but they don't seem to notice his discontent. If anything they both looked significantly more relaxed now.
"So, get anything nice for Christmas?" Ron asked with a surprising level of cheer in his tone
And to Harry's shock, Daphne cracked a coy grin of her own. He is more than a little surprised by the sudden change in conversation, and is unable to do anything other than stare blankly at her.
Had she really been able to use Ron and Hermione's argument to simultaneously make peace with them both, while also pitting them against the other?
It took her a moment to collect herself, appreciating the change in topic.
"A few nice items. Harry gave me a rather charming locket. Yourself?"
"Not much. House burnt down. Got some sick socks, though."
He couldn't help but notice that, since she shut Hermione down so spectualory, Ron was no longer arguing with her. He hated the pettiness of that, but again, it was working to his advantage for now.
After that the evening seemed to fly by. Not much more was said, he and Ron took over the conversation while Daphne fell more into the listener role. They talked about their new lessons, Qudditch, Prefect duties and just about every other safe and unproblematic subject Harry could think of. Daphne maintained her politeness through all of this, but he could tell she was running low on steam since Hermione had left.
To be honest, curfew was nearly due to be called and since Hermione left, the life of the conversation had died down anyway. That had reached the peak of it and had been on a steady decline since then. It was obvious after her storming off that eventually, either Ron or Harry would have to go after her, and Ron begrudgingly volunteered. He definitely seemed to be the one who had come out of this meeting the better off, and he even gave Daphne a wave as he disappeared into the aisles after Hermione.
"You did well, really."
This time when he brought his hand down to her shoulder, she didn't fight it. She wobbled a bit on the spot, and then leaned softly against him
"I called her a mudblood. Twice," she answered without looking his way.
"You apologised, that's what's important. You didn't mean it. I know you didn't mean it."
The perfect answer he could give, and a true one as well.
She nodded slowly, looking very unamused.
"First steps… first steps…" she mumbled, but Harry got the feeling she was talking more to herself than him.
A/N Thank you all for the feedback on my video! I've recently published a second one on the same channel, this time talking more broadly about the concept of Harry Potter fanfiction. And if anyone reading this doesn't know what I'm talking about, I recently put out a video essay on Daphne Greengrass, it's on Youtube under the title "The Most Popular HP Character You've Never Heard Of" and channel name is Hadley! Thank you all again!
