Disclaimer: Everythings belongs to J.K.R.
AN: A big THANK YOU to Federer Rex for editing this story with the speed of light.
This story was inspired by a prompt from Fuzzpot. Thank you for that, Fuzzy!
More author's notes at the end of the
Two days later, Harry closed the book in his lap with an audible thud. "This was the last one."
"It wasn't," Hermione said, without looking up from the parchment she was scribbling on notes. "I'm sure we have not yet checked half of the books on our research topic that are in the library."
Harry groaned, but got the unsubtle hint. Followed by Ron's commiserating look, he stood up and left the common room. On his way down to the library, his stomach made odd little flips. Would Greengrass be there? Yes, she was a Slytherin, but a decent one, and he wouldn't mind talking to her again.
As soon as he closed the door of the library behind himself—quietly, not to upset Madam Pince—his eyes wandered to the spot at the window where she had sat the last time.
There she was! His heart leapt into his throat.
In the sunlight pouring into the room through the tall window her hair seemed to be on fire. It suited her, it made her look like the picture of Queen Bodicea in his Muggle school book. The twin's prank apparently had not yet worn off. Harry grinned to himself and ignored the little voice in his head that wolf whistled.
Next to her elbow sat a tall stack of books on the table, and she was scribbling something from a reference book in front of her onto a sheet of parchment, the pink tip of her tongue sticking out at the corner of her mouth.
Gods, was she cute.
He took a double-take. Where had that thought come from? He glanced at her again. Well, it was true, she was cute.
Harry shut the thought off and walked towards Greengrass, putting his feet firmly on the ground to make sure she'd hear him approaching. After all, he didn't want to scare her out of her mind by creeping on her when she was lost in her work. He'd learned the painful lesson never to do that to a studying witch.
At the sound of his steps, she turned her head. A smile drifted onto her face. "Hullo Potter!"
A Slytherin smiling at him and greeting him politely was new. The corner of Harry's mouth quirked up in response, and as best he could he ignored the flutter in his stomach at the sight of the dimple on her cheek.
She motioned with one hand towards the stack of books on the table. "I thought I'd spare you some time and find you a few more books on the topic you are interested in." Her voice was breathless. Was she nervous?
His smile broadened. "Thank you! That is pretty decent of you."
She pinked.
He made a show of inspecting the books to give her time to recover from her embarrassment. She'd done a good job and came up with books from different sections of the library where he wouldn't have thought to look, but which would be useful.
Harry gave her a broad smile. "Wow, these are great! Hermione will be impressed."
More of that pretty blush, and the dimple deepened.
This was not what he had intended, but the result was nice to look at, although it had become rather warm in the library all of a sudden. He straightened. "I mean what I said, these books will be a great help. Thank you, again. I really appreciate what you have done. Especially—" His voice trailed off, and his neck and face became warm. Merlin, he had just been about to say 'especially since you are a snake.' That would have gone down well.
Greengrass tilted her head to the side and gave him a scrutinising look, then grinned. "Oh, you mean because I am a Slytherin?"
Harry nodded, his cheeks burning, and he didn't meet her eyes.
"We aren't all like Draco, you know."
"It can be difficult to see past him. So, you're not friends with him?"
She pulled her braid over her shoulder and twirled the end around a finger. Today, she fastened it with a green bow, and it looked like a candy cane. "We're housemates and classmates, so we behave polite to each other. Besides that, we don't run exactly in the same circles. Draco wouldn't socialise with a Greengrass, I'm way below his station."
Harry's eyes went wide. "What? You're a pureblood, isn't that what matters most to him?"
"Blood purity is important to him and his set, but gold and standing is of equal importance. My family doesn't quite meet the latter two."
"Huh? I thought the Greengrasses were an old family."
"We are, and we are considerably wealthy, yet we still have to work for our gold. That's what sets us apart from the Malfoys, the Notts, and the Parkinsons. They belong to the magical landed gentry who can live off the income of their estates and their investments."
"Oh." Harry considered that for a moment. "What does your father do for a living?"
"Dad is a trainer for steeplechase horses, with a magical business for training Abraxan hunters at the side. He owns a big stable in Lambourn, where he trains the Muggle race horses, and a smaller one hidden in the Downs, for the magical side of the business."
His eyebrows shot up at that. "Muggle horse races?" Pierce Polkiss' father had been to the races whenever he could scrounge up the money; he had heard Dudley and Pierce talking about the money he had lost by betting on the wrong horse, and Mrs Polkiss yelling at him for that.
Greengrass shrugged. "There aren't as many magical people as Muggles, and even fewer can afford to keep Abraxans, like Mr Malfoy, for example. Dad says we have to make ends meet, thus the Muggle side of the business."
"So, your dad works for Mr Malfoy?"
"He is one of the owners who give their Abraxans to dad for training. He does not even own the most, although he acts like it."
Harry snorted. "I'm not surprised."
She scrunched up her nose and fiddled with her braid again. "Dad's not an employee of Mr Malfoy, but he works for him, so Draco treats me like something between a socially equal and a servant."
"Did your dad warn you off antagonising him so Mr Malfoy won't pull away his Abraxans if his son gets pissed with you?"
"Merlin, no! Dad said to treat Draco like any school mate, and not to lick his boots, like many in our house do. He said Mr Malfoy is one owner out of many, Malfoy senior moving his Abraxans from the stables will hurt, but dad will find someone else to fill the gap. Besides, Mr Malfoy wouldn't like it if it became public that he doesn't pay his training fees on time. I remind Draco of that whenever he becomes shitty with me." A malicious gleam appeared in her eyes that showed why the Sorting Hat had placed her into Slytherin.
Harry burst out into laughter. "That is brilliant! Are the Malfoys short of cash?"
Greengrass shrugged again. "I wouldn't know about that, I'm not that close to them to hazard a guess. Dad thinks it's more likely they are yanking the chain by not paying on time, showing him who is in charge, you know. Dad lets them believe they are and charges them twice as much as any other owner."
Harry laughed even harder. "I think I like your dad."
She beamed. "I like him, too. Dad is great, you should meet him one day."
"I'd love to."
CCC
Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room a bit hunchbacked because of the weight of Hermione's book bag on his hips, yet with a spring in his step and a smile that refused to leave his face as he let his time with Greengrass—Daphne, as she insisted he'd call her—play by once again in his mind.
After the revelations about her family she had told him what how it was like to grow up in a family where everything evolved around highbred race horses or Abraxans, their success and their well-being. She'd even confided in him that she planned on becoming a steeplechase jockey after their NEWTs and a trainer after that, just like her father. They'd lost track of time over their conversation, and it wasn't before Madam Pince swiped down on them like a hawk for laughing out loud in the empty library that he remembered he had to rejoin his friends in the common room before they sent out a search party.
He was not yet ready to explain his new friendship with a Slytherin to them, and he didn't want to explain the odd mix of warm and fuzzy and breathless talking to Daphne gave him. Or how his stomach fluttered when he looked at her, or how cute the candy cane braid was, especially when she wore it with a green bow. It was weird, but a nice kind of weird that he enjoyed very much.
The broad smile still on his face, he climbed through the portrait hole.
Ron had fallen asleep over his book and snored softly.
Hermione looked up when he entered the common room. "Oh, good, there are you! I was about to go down to the library and find you, what took you so long."
Harry swung the book bag off his shoulder, and it hit the ground with a loud thud. "I got a couple of books from other sections than Care of Magical Creatures, to get a different angle." He emptied the content of Hermione's book bag on the carpet.
Hermione tsk-ed at his reckless treatment of the books, her eyes already scanning the titles. She crouched down to sort the books. "That's quite the collection you got there, Harry. I'm impressed. It never hurts to think outside the box, and I'm sure these will be very helpful. Well done!"
He accepted her praise with a modest inclination of his head and made a mental note to tell Daphne about it the next time he saw her.
CCC
They ran out of research material again the next afternoon.
"I'll go," Harry said before Hermione could open her mouth.
She shot him a strange look. "That has to be the first time you volunteer to go to the library."
"Yeah, mate, don't turn into Percy," Ron added with a grin.
"Don't worry, I need the exercise," Harry said, and swung Hermione's book bag over his shoulder.
"Mental," Ron said, and turned back to his book. Like most wizards with a magical family background, Ron didn't walk if he wasn't forced to.
Hermione gave him a thoughtful nod, but didn't comment.
As soon as the portrait hole closed after him, Harry broke out into a run to make the most of his time away. Hermione's thoughtful look made him uneasy. If anyone was likely to find him out, it was Hermione. It wasn't like he wanted to keep his blossoming friendship with Daphne a secret from his friends forever. Yet there was something so unexpected and beautiful—serendipitous is the word, a voice that sounded like Hermione's whispered in his head—that he wanted to keep it to himself and enjoy a bit longer.
Daphne sat in what he had come to consider her usual spot. He took his time to admire the way the sunlight illuminated her Gryffindor-red hair as he put the books he needed to return on Madam Pince's desk. The candy-cane-coloured braid was still as cute as he remembered—and she had put on that green bow again, yay!
Madam Pince gave him a sharp nod as a sign that everything was alright with the books he had returned, and he walked over to Daphne and plopped down in the chair next to her.
"Hi, Daphne."
"Good afternoon, Harry. I'd almost given up on you."
He rolled his eyes. "You know how Hermione is when she sinks her teeth into a topic she wants to research. By the way, thank you for your help yesterday, Hermione was impressed with it."
Daphne chuckled. "Actually, I don't know how Hermione is, but you've complained enough that I get the picture. And you're welcome, I had fun."
Her laughter was a sound he could listen to all day long. Warmth spread from his chest all over his body, down to his toes and out into his fingertips. Maybe he should take a page out of the twins' book. "What have you been up to?" he asked and wriggled his eyebrows at her, his heart in his throat. "Missing me, I hope?"
She startled, and her eyes went wide. "What?" The next moment, she snorted. "You wish, you prat." However, her cheeks coloured.
"Well, I missed you too," he said, his heart still in his throat, and watched her from the corner of his eyes.
Once again, her eyes widened, and the colour of her cheeks deepened some more. Yet she looked decidedly smug.
"Ron and Hermione aren't very fun to be around these days," he went on, as if his remark wasn't something special. "They are either bickering about their familiars, or about the research Hermione makes us do."
Daphne tutted at that. "Poor you, you must really be desperate for a sensible witch to talk to you."
"Yeah, maybe you can tell me where I can find one."
"You—!" She spluttered and hit his arm on the armrest with the flat palm of her hand.
Harry chuckled with delight. Winding her up was fun.
Their talk continued in that vein until a very disgruntled Madam Pince reminded them of curfew. Together, they walked to the Moving Staircase where they had to part, Daphne to go down to the dungeons, and he to climb up to Gryffindor Tower.
Daphne gave him a small wave in goodbye, put a hand on the bannister, and set a foot on the first step.
Damn, he didn't want to end their time together like this. "Daphne," he called.
Her head turned around to him, and she halted her steps. "Yes, Harry?"
"Do you want to meet in the library tomorrow, right after breakfast?"
A broad smile appeared on her face, together with that adorable dimple. "I'd love to."
His smile rivalled hers, it was so broad it almost had to split his face in two. "Brilliant! It's a date, then." His stomach knotted itself together. Had he been too forward with that? He chanced a look at her.
The smile hadn't left her face, if anything, it had become even wider, and her cheeks were a deep shade of pink. "It's a date," she confirmed, and practically skipped down the stairs the next moment.
Harry looked after her until she disappeared behind a bend in the staircase, then pumped his fist into the air. "Yes!"
Like Daphne, he almost skipped to his common room.
Hermione was not impressed when she found out he brought no new research material.
t.b.c.
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