Ron burped loudly and slammed his finished whisky glass onto the table. It's a wonder the glass didn't break.

It was Hogsmeade weekend and Harry figured it would be nice to have a few drinks in the Three Broomsticks, but he could see the situation was slowly descending to pure diabolicalness. Unfortunately, even with some alcohol in her system, Hermione still retained a significant portion of what made her, well, Hermione.

"You really need to be careful, Harry." Hermione admonished. "I heard that Romilda Vane is trying to slip you a love potion. Those things are no joke."

"Oh really?" Harry raised an eyebrow as he took another swig of his whisky. "Well, I like Daphne, so I don't think you have anything to worry about there," he finished with a laugh, finishing the glass on the table. Hmm. Why was his world spinning?

Harry spent a few seconds smiling to himself before he realised that the table was quiet. A little too quiet. He zoomed his eyes back into focus before he saw both his friends were staring at him, and the good vibes were gone.

"Did I say something?" Harry frowned, confused. "Sorry, I don't remember. Um…" Hermione was on about somebody slipping him a love potion, and then he said…

"Daphne… Greengrass?" Hermione was scowling, but she looked bewildered.

Harry's heart skipped a beat. Oh, shit. All these years of keeping this secret, and it went out so cheaply. Harry slapped his forehead internally, though he might have done it physically as well since his world is still spinning.

"What about Greengrass?" Harry tried to backtrack, but even in his inebriated state he knew he wasn't getting out of this one.

"You said you like Daphne. This is Greengrass we're talking about, right?" she almost sounded as if she was scolding him.

Harry chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head with his hand.

"Well, shit." Ron started laughing.

"What's wrong?" Harry said defensively.

"She's a snake!" Ron shrugged. "You can't like her. She's just like the others."

"You can't just lump all the Slytherins together. I don't know, maybe she'll be alright –"

"How many times have you even spoken to her?" Hermione said exasperatedly.

"Three," Harry replied instantly, forgetting to make it less obvious he had been counting. He could recount all their interactions in decent detail if he was asked, although one of them was her screaming at him for spilling her potion last year. Of course, Snape docked points from Gryffindor.

Hermione regarded him carefully. Then her expression eventually softened. "Come on, Harry, don't be silly," she smiled, as if what he said was a massive joke. "I gotta say, that was good. You got us there–"

There was Harry's chance to backtrack and get out of the hole he dug. "I'm being serious!" Ah, well there goes that chance.

"What do you see in her?" Ron asked. "Isn't her father a death eater?"

"No, he isn't! What, just because she wears a green tie her family's dark?" Harry scoffed, feeling self-conscious and defensive. "She can't be that bad. She literally has better grades than Hermione in at least Potions, Transfiguration and Charms."

"That's beside the point," Hermione snapped, Harry's comment obviously hitting a nerve. He had only heard many rants from Hermione that she only wasn't the best at Potions because of Snape's obvious favouritism. Yet they had Slughorn now and Daphne still had better grades. "Look, Harry, I suppose it's okay if you fancy her, but you should be careful. I don't know her that well, but from what I've seen she looks down at everybody and… I don't know, she looks mean. Bluntly put, I think Greengrass is a bitch."

"You think I'm a what?" a new voice joined the conversation, and all three of them whipped their heads around. To Harry's horror, the subject of their conversation was standing before their table, and she looked less pleased than usual. Standing beside her with a tentative smile was the other Slytherin Harry remembered to be Tracey.

"Oof, now the pot is stirring," Ron remarked, and Harry kicked him under the table.

"What did you say I was?" Daphne challenged, ignoring the comment, and still staring coldly at Hermione. Harry didn't know how Hermione was going to get out of this since Daphne clearly heard what Hermione said (and probably sabotaged what little chance he ever had with her), but blame it on the alcohol or whatever, Hermione remarkably set her jaw and met Daphne's gaze.

"If you really must know, I said you were a bitch."

Daphne clearly didn't expect the audacity. Tracey started giggling. "You just got done, mush," Tracey grinned, nudging Daphne's shoulder.

Daphne glared at her friend. "Shut up," she hissed. "Why were you talking about me, anyway." There was no rise and fall in her intonation, and for some reason she was looking directly at Harry as she spoke.

Harry's world was still a little woozy, but Daphne's gaze bore holes into his soul, and he was frightened.

"Cuz you know, we were talking about love potions and then Harry said he liked –" Ron blurted before Harry quickly slid his glass off the table and landed with a loud smash.

"We best be going," Harry said abruptly, standing up to his feet and his head swayed a little. "It's late and Hermy wants to go to bed."

"Hermy?" Tracey raised an amused eyebrow.

"Hermione, I meant." Harry cleared his throat. "Anyways. It was good seeing you two." He hoisted both Hermione and Ron up to their feet. "We'll see you in Potions. Or before, I don't know."

"Seriously?" Tracey pouted. "It's like only eight. You don't have to go. We wouldn't mind joining you guys either – ow!" she yelped as Daphne kicked her in the shin. "Alright," she conceded. "Maybe next time."

"Maybe next time," Harry echoed, having no intention of carrying it through. "Goodbye Tracey. Daphne." He tried his luck nodding at Daphne, something he probably wouldn't have tried if he was fully sober.

"Bye Harry!"

"Potter."

Harry smiled weakly as he dragged his friends out of the three broomsticks.

"First name basis?" Hermione said sceptically.

"Evidently not," Harry shrugged, but he was glad Daphne acknowledged him, nonetheless.

"At least that makes it four times," Ron remarked with a snigger.

"I suppose," Harry huffed into the cold air as he tried to blink his vertigo away. What had just happened? "But this has to stay between us. I'm serious."

"Sure, but she probably heard you." Hermione said.

"If so, I'm screwed," Harry sighed. "I doubt it though. She would've made her presence known earlier."

"Better hope so, lad." Ron slapped a hand onto Harry's shoulder. "So, bedtime then, Hermy?"

"Har har."


"You should've seen the look on your face," Tracey grinned as she sat on the seat Ron was on a minute ago. "Granger's got balls, ya gotta give 'er that."

"Fine, whatever. But they were being kind of weird." Daphne intoned.

"Oh, connect the dots, silly goose." Tracey rolled her eyes as she nodded at the broken glass by Daphne's feet.

"What dots," Daphne frowned as she nudged a piece of glass with her foot.

"What Weasley said."

"What about it."

"Why," Tracey said slowly, exasperated, "would Harry smash the glass right as Weasley was getting to the punch?"

Daphne stayed still for a moment before it clicked. "No way," she shook her head.

"Oh," Tracey drawled, a grin stretching across her face as she nodded excitedly. "Oh, yes way."


Harry was late out of potions because Slughorn wanted to talk to him after class. He had told Hermione and Ron to not bother waiting for him, so he walked briskly out the room without paying much attention to his surroundings.

"Potter, wait up."

Harry halted and of all the people he expected to see, she was not one of them.

"Is… something the matter?" he said cautiously.

"Yes," Daphne came to a stop two metres from him, and even though she was a little shorter, he still felt tiny under her stare. She cleared her throat. "I happily happen to be free on Saturday. I checked the Quidditch timetables, and I surmised that it would be likely you are free then too. So, I think it would be prudent if we headed to Hogsmeade and discussed our options further." She did not stutter at all, and it almost sounded like it was rehearsed.

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?"

"Well, you like me." She stated it as a fact, almost robotically. Her eye contact never broke, and Harry felt like he was staring into blinding light. The fact he felt the tips of his ears heating up wasn't helping.

Harry had no idea what was happening nor what he should say and as a result he grimaced. "Do I?" he said unsurely.

Daphne's shoulders fell. "You don't?" she said, quieter.

Harry eventually figured it was no use denying it because he was given an opportunity here and he should take it. "Well, uh," he said awkwardly. "Maybe, I mean… yes. I think I do."

Daphne's eyes lit up and she momentarily smiled before she took a breath and composed herself. "Good," she said flatly, her face neutral again. "Well, in that case, as I said, I propose we head to Hogsmeade on Saturday. We could perhaps have some tea. I think it would be a good idea for us to know each other at a greater depth."

Harry stared at her, and she stared back at him unblinkingly. He was having difficulty comprehending what has happening right now. He's only had four interactions with her in the last six years and this is the most he has heard her say to, well, anybody really.

"So? What do you say?" Daphne said after the silence started getting uncomfortable. Her tone was hopeful, but her expression was still completely neutral.

"Uh, um, yeah." Harry nodded. "I think that would be great. Saturday works for me."

The corner of Daphne's lips twitched as she took another deep breath. "Great," she said with a courteous nod. "I look forward to seeing you then, Potter. We shall rendezvous outside the great hall after breakfast." She held out her hand.

Harry shook Daphne's hand cautiously. "Sound good but," he paused, "why are you being so… formal?"

"What?" she said, a slight pink appearing on her cheeks.

"I don't know, it just feels, you know, a bit professional," he shrugged.

"I'm sorry if I gave you that impression," she responded. "But no, our meeting will be very casual and… chill. It will be a pleasant time for both of us, I'll make sure of it."

Harry doubted Daphne was capable of having a 'chill' conversation. "Ah, okay."

"I apologise if I am coming across as a little intense," she continued. "This is somewhat new for me."

"Really?" Harry said, surprised. Daphne nodded. "It's okay," Harry smiled weakly. "It's new for me too."

"Yeah? That's great," she smiled and despite taking another deep breath, she couldn't fight it off anymore. Harry never noticed she had a dimple. "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to make you feel more at ease."

"Well, for a start, you could call me Harry?"

"Yes, of course." Daphne agreed with a nod. "I am glad we have come to an agreement, Harry. I look forward to Saturday." She paused. "And now I'm late for class."

"What?" Harry widened his eyes. He had a free period and assumed she had one too. "You should go."

"Yes," she hummed. "Anyways, I'll see you on Saturday."

"See you on Saturday," Harry echoed.

She shook his hand firmly one last time before walking briskly away.

Harry stared at Daphne's retreating form along the corridor. It was only now he had finally comprehended what just happened and he suddenly felt very giddy.

"Wow. Didn't even need Felix Felicis," Harry mumbled, chuckling to himself.


AN: Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it :) I'd be happy to extend this to a two-shot if you would like to see how they fare on Saturday. Who knows, this might even become a 6th year AU hahaha