Colours of Obsession

by Plastic Dreams

A story of how the meeting of three colours finally manages to bring together an unknown romance between an obsessed, in-denial Daphne Greengrass and an equally obsessed, and less in-denial, Harry Potter. (GOF!Haphne, SmarterStronger!Harry) !SliceOfLife

11. 11: Loving is Easy

Colours of Obsession

A story of how the meeting of three colours finally manages to bring together an unknown romance between an obsessed, in-denial Daphne Greengrass and an equally obsessed, and less in-denial, Harry Potter.

*O*O*O*

"All the fear and the fire of the end of the world,
Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl.
Happens great, happens sweet,
Happily, I'm unfazed here too."

*O*O*O*

With the headaches no longer holding him back from going all out in his training, Harry felt good.

The exercise he had just put himself through required him to be in his best condition. It had been nothing short of exhausting and was just what he needed to get back into the swing of things. But ever critical of himself, Harry took note of the areas in which he could improve. He had noticed he got out of tempo very quickly, letting his excitement get the best of him and causing his movements to be a little too erratic. It started off with failing to smoothly chain his wand's movements from one spell to another, or perhaps he let his breathing get out of control. This would end up causing a whole slew of cascading effects to follow, usually ending in him being out of breath faster than he'd usually have been.

He lay on his back, his white shirt soaked in his sweat and even scruffier than usual. The sleeves he normally kept rolled up were now back down to his wrists, completely loose from swinging his wand around over and over again. His tie had been tossed to one side of the class after he had gotten annoyed with how it had persistently flopped back and forth like a fish on land as he moved through the intense drills. Clinging tightly to his skin, his shirt following the rise and fall of his chest as he managed his post-exercise breathing.

Even if exhausted, his green eyes were staring intently at the ceiling as he mentally counted each inhale and exhale he took. Small wisps of steam were slowly rising from Harry's bare skin as his sweat rapidly cooled against his heated skin and the cold, dry air.

Astoria's words still lingered in the back of his mind.

'Please don't die…'

They reminded him why he was pushing himself so hard. His life wasn't just his own anymore.

Now happily tangled up with Daphne Greengrass' own, the very idea of dying and taking Daphne's heart to the grave with him… It made him shiver.

But Harry didn't know which was scarier.

The fact that he'd break her heart, or that she'd probably never forgive him for dying.

Mopping his forehead off any remaining sweat using his dirty sleeve, Harry picked himself up off the ground.

A gentle swish of the wand cleaned the sweat off the ground and from his body, though his clothes and hair were still a little damp. A mutter and another motion of his wrist sent his tie accio-ing towards him, which he caught easily.

As he sloppily threw his tie back on, Harry strode over to his bag and pulled out the two letters he had penned earlier in the day, just before classes had started. These were letters that needed to be delivered promptly if he was to be expecting a response before the games were slated to start.

Indeed. There were a few things he needed to get done today, though it was fortunate that two of them could be knocked out with one stone… or, rather, a bird in this case.

Throwing on his robes, he headed out the door and towards the school's Owlery, making sure to pass by the kitchens while en route.

"Parrots can eat meat, right…?" Harry asked himself as he left, the only proof of today's training being the sizable heap of rubble he had forgotten to repair.

*O*O*O*

As soon as he entered the Owlery, the teen was greeted with all sorts of sounds.

Hoots, chittering, and soft squawks filled the air as excitement grew amongst the birds. Some of the owls around the door took flight to higher ground, scattering to make space. Most of them stayed where they were to stare curiously at him. Heads bobbed and tilted, their eyes wide and unblinking as they observed him closely. He was only ignored by a few of them, currently far too occupied in preening their feathers to care about his presence.

Harry glanced around at the parliament of birds surrounding him and noticed that they seemed rather frenetic to see him.

Perhaps the birds were feeling rather bored being cooped up in the Owlery with nothing to deliver. But with Christmas coming soon, the birds would undoubtedly be busy travelling to and fro, their claws full of letters and gifts from home.

Speaking of Christmas and gifts, Harry still had yet to finally decide on what to get Daphne for the holidays. He had been deliberating and had narrowed his ideas down to just a few that he thought she'd appreciate and have some use for.

But he still had plenty of time before that was due.

Today, he was here for other reasons.

A second later, Hedwig came soaring down elegantly towards him, as beautiful as she was silent. Harry smiled at the sight, and immediately offered his arm out for her to perch. The longtime friend and pet landed on his sleeve and purred at the teen.

Harry greeted the gorgeous white bird with soft strokes to the underside of her fluffy beaked chin.

"Hello, Hedwig. Looking lovely as always… Oh! I like what you've done with your feathers today."

Though she looked no different than usual, Hedwig still chirped at his flattery. She raised her beak up into the air and flexed her wings outwards proudly. It was as if she were lording the statement over the rest of the owls, which Harry thought was rather funny. She had always been a reserved owl but her behaviour had changed quite a bit ever since he piled on the praises, having used her as a training partner last year to practice improving his charisma and general suave-ness.

Perhaps she was starting to get a little too narcissistic from all his honeyed compliments.

A familiar screech from above made Harry glance up at the ceiling.

Hidden in the rafters and nestled amongst a few other neutral-toned owls, a bright gradient of red, blue, and yellow feathers greeted Harry's eyes.

He snorted. The parrot looked entirely out of place, having traded the tropical palm trees and scenic beaches for the churning seas and rugged mountains of the Scottish Highlands. He spared a thought at just how many other students had wondered what the strange bird was doing here instead of in a warmer climate. But to his credit, he seemed to be doing fine even with the cold.

Harry waved cheerfully, "Afternoon, Mr Parrot. You're not easy to miss, are you?"

"Says you, 'Speccy-Scar Boy'! Gwaaaak!" The high-pitched raspy voice barked back immediately.

"Hey… that's not nice," Harry sighed as if he were actually offended, "And I even went out of my way to bring you actual treats this time too."

He fished out two long strips of crisped bacon from his pocket and waggled them at the parrot, beckoning him closer. The scent wafted throughout the space quickly, and the surrounding owls turned to Harry, hooting with excitement. Even Hedwig's full attention was now directed towards the tasty-looking strips of meat.

The colourful bird squawked and flapped his wings, eagerly descending from the rafters and landing on the edge of the bronze water bowl in the centre of the room.

"Better than chocolate. Gimme!" If birds had fingers, they'd surely be wriggling at Harry in anticipation now.

"I made a guess," Harry shrugged as he tossed one of the pieces at the parrot, who caught it easily with his beak, "I'm sure a bit of salt and fat won't kill a magical parrot."

The parrot was far too busy gobbling up the strip of meat to respond. It was apparent that he wasn't quite in the mood to share with the other residents of the Owlery. Jerking his body back and forth as he choked down the entire piece in one go, he bore a certain resemblance to Harry's pudgy cousin.

He couldn't stop the smirk that emerged from that comparison.

As the intense display was happening, Harry turned to Hedwig.

"Sorry girl, I'll be using him for today." Harry plucked half of the remaining bacon and offered it to his owl.

Hedwig squawked loudly at him, seemingly disappointed at the paltry offerings — at least when compared to what the parrot got. But given that her services weren't required at the moment, she accepted it nonetheless, pleased that her master hadn't entirely forgotten about her.

Seeing as she wasn't needed, she took off with her portion still in her beak to the rafters for some privacy.

By the time Harry looked back at the parrot, he was done with the first part of his treat and was now eyeing the remaining piece of bacon like he was a hawk.

"What's your name?" asked Harry as he tossed the last bit of bacon at the parrot.

"Paulie," replied the bird as it caught the bacon again, making quick work of it.

"Polly," repeated the teen, unaware of the 'apparent' difference. "...like the pirate sort?"

"Gwak! No! Not 'Polly'." The bird corrected with a shriek, "Paulie."

Harry tried again, "Polly?"

"No, dimwit! Paul—ie." Paulie the Parrot seemingly did his best to enunciate his words, but there was only so much a parrot could do without having any lips.

"Is there a difference?"

The choked reply was indignant.

"Gwa—! Yes!"

The two took a second to spell his name out before Harry finally realised the difference in what they were saying.

"It only makes a difference in writing..." Harry shrugged, "Doesn't sound very different if I call you 'Paulie' or 'Polly', does it?"

"There is." The bird's eyes narrowed at him, annoyed with the teen.

"The troubles of homophone names, I suppose."

"Gwak! Doesn't help to be an idiot, Speccy." Harry took no offence at his insult, his laughter bouncing off the ceiling.

"I think you and my girlfriend would get along well," He imagined Paulie perched on the shoulder of a pretty blonde Slytherin, their annoyed gazes levelled at him. Harry sighed affectionately at the thought of her, "She's bloody amazing, she is."

"She chose you. Can't be that great…" Paulie replied snarkily.

Harry bristled up slightly, eyes narrowing at the parrot. "Hey, you leave her out of this or I'll pull that bacon out your other end…" The bird was warned with a yanking gesture.

"Gwaak!" The colourful bird shirked back ever so slightly at the threat, "Calm down, Speccy!"

"Yeah… you definitely would've been a Slytherin. Tracey would've loved having you around." Harry mumbled to himself after dropping his arm. "And no, Paulie. Not 'Speccy' or 'Speccy-Scarboy'. Call me Harry."

Paulie stared at him for a moment before speaking again.

"Hairy."

The teen frowned a little, half confused and half irked at somehow being able to notice the difference. Perhaps it had something to do with the smug tone the bird was using.

"No. Harry."

"Ha—iry." The parrot repeated slowly, taunting him.

"No, it's Harr— Oh… Okay, fine. I get it now." Harry's annoyance fizzled out as he rolled his eyes, understanding what Paulie had been fussing over earlier.

The two would speak for a short bit before Harry eventually handed him the letters and the tasks for the day. The parrot would be setting off for Hogsmeade, carrying deliveries for both Sirius Black and the manager of Flourish and Blotts' Hogsmeade branch.

Harry wouldn't mind confiding in Sirius, who had also become one of the many pillars of strength in Harry's life. Even as confident as he was now, getting some more words of encouragement and reassurance from the man probably wasn't going to hurt. Moments later, Paulie left the Owlery through one of the many slits in the walls, noisily squawking and flapping as he squeezed through the hole designed for the smaller, more elegant birds.

Harry gave one last lingering look at Paulie through the gap in the wall before he turned on his heel and departed for his next objective of the day, hopeful that he'd hear from both parties soon.

O*O*O

By the time Hermione and Daphne had managed to ground Tracey, Neville looked like he was ready to turn into a puddle right there on the spot. All that sweating he was doing wasn't helping with the conjured image either.

"Th—Thanks for the help, guys…" Neville mumbled through chattering teeth to the two witches in front of him. He had his broom in his hands, which were shuddering so much it made him look like he was trying to sweep the air.

"I know this is the third time I'm asking you this, but are you sure you're alright, Neville?" Hermione worried over her fellow Gryffindor like a worried mother hen. Given her fears of flying, which had taken a while for her to overcome, she understood what Neville was feeling at the moment.

"Y—Yep! I'm o—okay!" Despite the quivering of his body, the boy managed a shaky smile at the girls, accompanied by an even shakier thumbs-up, signifying his general well-being. Seeing that he was alright, Hermione stopped fussing over him. Daphne smirked behind her at her attentive, fussy attitude. She wondered if Hermione ever considered a future as a professor at the school.

Meanwhile, after such an intense flight session, Tracey was performing some basic cooldown stretches nearby. Floating a few centimetres off the floor, she sat on her broom with her legs outstretched on the grass in front of her. Practically unfazed, she looked rather pleased with herself as she touched her toes effortlessly.

"I thought he handled that quite well…" said Tracey pleasantly, slowly rising from her stretch. Her broom lifted her further up, helping her to get back onto her feet.

Both Hermione and Daphne had to agree with that statement. Even though he was a little shaken by the wild ride he had been taken on, he still seemed surprisingly upbeat, which both girls thought was rather unusual for him.

It seemed as though big changes were already starting to take place in the boy's psyche…

"...I mean, besides all that screamin'. We can work on that next time though."

Neville's smile dimmed. "N—Next time?"

…or maybe not.

The familiar dread of having to do something out of his comfort zone seeped into his features again.

"Of course! Don't go forgetting our promise now, Nevs!" She exclaimed, cheering him on, "This is just the beginning of a long and fruitful relationship as teacher and student!"

Hermione and Daphne exchanged wide-eyed glances, unable to hide their surprise at this announcement. It was clear that the two had grown considerably closer while Daphne and Hermione were having their earlier heart-to-heart conversation.

But just what had transpired between the two?

His face soured further. "That w—was before I got on your broom… I didn't think it—it was going to be that scary…" Neville sounded like he was actively trying and failing to swallow his pet toad, Trevor.

Walking up next to him, Tracey planted the blunt end of the broom into the grass and then delivered a hard smack onto Neville's upper back.

"Ow!" Both teens yelped in unison. One winced from the stinging pain on his back, while the other shook her hand rapidly, having unintentionally hurt herself from the slap.

"Good God! Are ya part-wall like Potter?!" Her whispered, aching response had the other two witches choking back their laughter. With a face twisted with pain, Tracey held her hand close to her chest before staring at Neville sternly, "Remember what I said? If you're scared…"

"…'Control your breathing and put on a brave face'. Right. Right…" He repeated what Tracey had seemingly taught him. The chubby boy nodded to himself before he shut his eyes and took in a few deep breaths. The slow exhale that followed seemed to expel most of the terror from his expression. Brows furrowed, he opened his eyes and the girls identified a look of courage in them, even if he was still clearly shaken.

It was a face fit for a young man who wanted to change his future for the better, even if it scared him.

The two witches watching the scene unfold before them found themselves surprised at how close the other two seemed to have gotten, and over such a short period too. But if Hermione learned anything from her first year in Hogwarts with Harry and Ron, it was that life-threatening scenarios seemed to bring people together… though, she didn't exactly know what to make of it when Tracey was the danger.

Seeing him now, considerably calmer, Tracey smiled proudly at her supposed student.

"You did well today, Nevs. Most boys would've rather done detention with Filch than share a broom with me. 'Sides, I gave ya a wilder ride today to show you how much easier flying's going ta be when yer not screaming ya head off! The next time's gonna be a breeze."

It was technically a half-truth, meant to conceal Daphne's plan, while also being honest in regards to their future lessons together.

"You promise?" asked Neville cautiously, as if worried this was some sort of trap.

"I swear," Tracey then ran a hand gingerly over her waist, which Neville had been clinging to earlier. Her tone become a bit more subdued. "...Though ya could've been a wee bit more gentler with me, y'know? I am still a girl, after all…"

The irony in Tracey's complaint aside, she and Neville locked eyes for a few seconds before hastily glancing away. It was as if she was suddenly a little self-conscious about what she had said.

And for Neville… there was something about the brash Slytherin's uncharacteristic display of gentleness that left him profoundly flustered.

"Ri—Right! Sor—Sorry!" squeaked Neville, his stutter returning. He drummed his fingers on his broom, fidgeting even more than before,

"Whatever…" Tracey huffed, kicking the ground and turning away from the rest of them.

Daphne, having spent the last few years observing Harry like a hawk, immediately picked up their behaviour. This was likely the first time she'd seen Tracey act so shy and self-conscious in front of a boy, which meant that Daphne had no choice but to commit the interaction to memory. She did so with a smile as she recounted Tracey's words.

'He's cute. But not that cute,' was what Tracey had said earlier.

…Maybe Neville really was 'that cute'.

She patiently filed it aside in her mind for now. She was sure she'd find better use of this memory some other time. Be it as material to tease her best friend… or maybe even during part of a tear-jerking, hilarious speech at her wedding with the boy in question.

…Heh. Perhaps Daphne was being a little too optimistic for now. They had just formally met today after all. Still, with how Tracey behaved as well as how easily Neville was coerced into doing things, she had a gut feeling the two would find themselves spending plenty more time together. Only time would tell how these two would end up.

Having exhausted themselves both physically and emotionally, the four of them decided to call it a day for today's supposedly casual flying session.

*O*O*O*

"Hey! Do you know where I can—"

"Fuck off, Potter," scoffed the older boy, rejecting his polite question, "You dirty cheat."

"Right… thanks." Harry deflated as he fell back onto the wall, silently hoping the next person would be a bit more receptive.

Since joining Hogwarts, Harry had no shortage of people who hated his guts for one reason or another.

Hell, sometimes they didn't even need a reason.

So the insults, glares, and stares from all the other students that Harry was receiving now as he stood at the hallway that led to the Hufflepuff common rooms was nothing new to him. Yet, the realisation that he was far more used to the scorn from students in green-trimmed robes rather than ones in yellow dawned upon him.

It felt… wrong.

Ever since his name had been drawn, it seemed as though he had turned into public enemy number one to a vast majority of the Puffs, which wasn't too surprising. And they certainly weren't shy of making it known to him that he wasn't welcome here.

Their strong beliefs in fairness made the most recent action of him being crowned the second champion of Hogwarts unacceptable. After all, to the majority of students that Harry didn't publicly preach his innocence to, it was a little hard to believe that the school's 'resident hero' wasn't trying to earn more fame for the Gryffindors at the expense of the other Houses.

'As if You-Know-Who wasn't enough for him,' they'd mutter behind his back, loud enough for him to hear, 'Can't let anyone else have the spotlight, can he?'

He eventually stopped paying any mind to it. It was just another day in his life, he supposed.

Yet another student approached the common room door.

Harry pushed himself off the wall and did his best to look as friendly as possible. But upon seeing that it was him, the student's neutral face turned cold.

"Hello." Undeterred at his visible distaste for him, Harry still approached him, "Do you know—"

"Don't know. Don't care, Potter." The boy frowned at him, briskly pushing past Harry and entering his common room without a second thought.

Harry sighed at being rejected again.

Maybe he did deserve some of this. He didn't appreciate stealing Cedric's moment of glory either.

Speaking of Cedric, the older teen was exactly who he was trying to look for.

Harry didn't know of anyone else who could land perfectly with a portkey in Hogwarts. And, well, he hoped Cedric wouldn't share or ask too many questions on the subject of why Harry wanted to know how to accomplish that. All he could do was look as polite as possible, and hope that the next person was Cedric… or that they would entertain his question.

A few more minutes of waiting later, and Harry found himself rewarded for his patience. It wasn't Cedric, but it was at least a friendly face.

"Professor Sprout!"

"H'ullo, Mr Potter. Far from the Gryffindor's common room, aren't you?" Though the professor was still cordial with him, Harry got the sense she also did not appreciate what had happened at the ceremony. With Cedric being one of her best students, it was not difficult to see why.

"Sorry to bother you, Professor. You wouldn't happen to know where Cedric is, would you?"

"I do." She nodded, and Harry felt relieved at that, "Is this about the Tournament?"

"Yes, I just wanted some advice." Harry nodded furiously, lying through his teeth, "Advice on how to make it through the events… uh, intact."

"Well, I do believe Mr Diggory was in the library on a study date with Miss Chang." She scratched her round chin with gloved hands, leaving small streaks of dirt from the greenhouse on her skin, "If you go now, you'll still be able to catch them."

"Thanks, Professor!" Harry rushed out of the hallway, thankful to finally be out of the Puffs' home turf.

*O*O*O*

After dropping the borrowed brooms off, the four students started the trek back towards the castle on foot.

The well-kept grass shortcut eventually transitioned into the dirt path the students often used between the entrance and the school. Small bushes and hedges occasionally flanked the path, maintained by the school's massive groundskeeper. It gave students who took it an assortment of fun shapes and figures to look at during their journey to and from the castle.

In the distance, the students could see the friendly giant tending to some of the shrubbery with his large hedge clippers, which looked no more than ordinary scissors when wielded in his sizable hands.

Being a close friend of his, Hermione was the first to call out to him. Accompanied by a timid Neville, she shook her arm eagerly in the air to get his attention. Daphne and Tracey settled for a polite, reserved wave as they were still only familiar with Hagrid as their Professor for the Care of Magical Creatures.

Hagrid noticed the commotion, trying to identify the tiny teens in the distance. Seconds later, he must have realised who it was as he began waving back with as much enthusiasm as Hermione. Moments later, he returned to his task of shaping the thick hedge into what looked to be an owl.

…or was it supposed to be a dog?

Well, whatever it was, at least it looked interesting.

They let Hagrid return to his work, continuing on the path but stopping every so often to inspect some of his trimmed hedges as they passed it. With Hermione and Neville further in the front and leading the way, it allowed Daphne and Tracey to hang back for a private conversation.

"So… 'teacher and student', huh?" Daphne gave Tracey a pert smile, "You two were formally introduced today. Aren't you moving a little too fast?"

"Ha, I know right? And I even spent half of our time today scaring the britches off of him." Tracey shook her head slightly, swearing that she could still hear his screams ringing in her ears. "Anyway, Nevs and I got to talking after ya left with Granger. I asked him why he was always so jumpy, so he told me more about himself."

"What did you learn?" Daphne asked.

They passed a bush that was likely supposed to be a badger but unintentionally looked like a sad cat that had eaten a little too much and was sitting on its rump. Tracey plucked an errant leaf sticking out from its distended belly that Hagrid must have missed. She inspected it for a moment before flicking it off to the side.

"From what he's told me, I gathered he was pretty sheltered by his Nana, and because of what happened to his parents… Ended up turning him into a real softie."

The blonde cocked a brow. "His parents?"

"Not too sure. Didn't elaborate, and I didn't want to press him for details. It was something bad though… bad enough that it left 'em in St. Mungos. Permanently." Tracey lapsed into silence for a moment and allowed the soft crunching of dirt and gravel beneath their feet to fill the quiet, "Did ya know about that?"

Hearing the name of the infamous medical institution jolted a distant memory in Daphne's mind. It was like brushing the dust and cobwebs off a forgotten item in the attic, taking a moment to recall where she had heard it from.

"I think my father mentioned it… a long time ago…" Daphne frowned at the hazy memories of her father speaking to a much younger Daphne.

It had been about the days when the Dark Lord still roamed freely, as well as the number of families he had racked up as followers, enemies, and victims. Given the graphic nature of the Dark Lord's crimes, her father hadn't gone into detail, but she recalled hearing him mention a few of the victims with a distinct sadness and regret in his voice.

Some of the names he had been especially upset about were the Longbottoms… Frank and Alice, if she recalled correctly. Neville's parents.

It was also then that she recalled how poorly Neville had reacted back when Professor Moody had performed the Unforgivables in front of the class. Out of the three spells used, Neville's cries had been especially loud when the professor had wielded the Cruciatus on the spider, making it writhe in agony as its spindly limbs snapped in different directions.

Even though it had been Daphne's first time witnessing its use in person, just observing what suffering the spider endured before it was cursed to death easily translated to what could be done to any human in its place.

It wasn't difficult for her to imagine the state his parents were likely in if they were permanently admitted into St. Mungos.

And the traumatizing mark it ultimately left upon Neville, who had likely visited them over the years, was… indelible, to say the least.

The blonde cringed as a wave of remorse crashed into her for subjecting the boy to the unnecessary terrors of today. She stopped to stare at Neville's back, reflecting upon her actions.

"I feel horrible for scaring him," Daphne's gaze was sorrowful.

Another wave of emotions hit her. Empathy. It was accompanied by a sense of clarity.

Now she felt that she had been far too hasty in dishing out punishment — to Neville, at least. She didn't know if she'd feel quite the same when it came to the other three. Because after all he and his family had been through, it just didn't seem very fair.

If she had known better… If she hadn't let her need for petty retribution get the best of her…

Well, it was too late for that now.

Daphne Greengrass was a lot of things. She was prideful, with an ego larger than she cared to admit. And even with years of Pureblood practice keeping her feelings in check, beneath that veneer of control was that wrathful side of her that proved challenging to restrain when truly angered. Even still, she recognised when she had made a mistake, and reflecting upon it now, a sincere apology to Neville was in order.

"I'll agree what we did wasn't nice…"

Tracey continued past Daphne and came to a stop at the next bush. She stared at it intently, hands on her hips, trying to discern what exactly Hagrid had sculpted out of it whilst still speaking to Daphne.

"...Bu~ut, believe it or not, he was the one who asked me to help him get over his fear of flying."

"What?" Daphne was suddenly bemused at the idea of Neville choosing to get onto Tracey's broom, "You mean… he willingly got on your broom?"

In the years she had been aware of Neville Longbottom and his infamous reputation for being a nervous wreck, the last thing she had expected was him, of all people, to share a broom with a relative stranger — even one as friendly as Tracey.

"I suppose that depends on ya definition of 'willing'. He wanted me to teach him, side by side. I told him that he could get over it a lot quicker if we just shared one. So he hopped on, and I—"

She whistled softly and carved her hand through the air to mimic the ride she had taken him on.

"—helped him out, while doing as you asked at the same time."

"I didn't think he was that brave, to be honest." Daphne started walking again, catching up to Tracey.

"After what happened to his parents, I think his Nana might have just coddled him just a wee bit too much. Seems like all he needed was a little push." The two girls looked at Neville in unison. The teen seemed to have picked his spirits back up compared to earlier and was speaking excitedly with Hermione, likely sharing some of the details of what had transpired.

"He didn't seem too happy to hear that he had to do it again," Daphne remarked, recalling how the colour had flushed right out of his face earlier. Neville might have been much braver than Daphne had expected, but she supposed anyone would've baulked at the idea of going on another rough ride with Tracey.

"After what I put him through? Probably not!" Tracey hid her snickering behind her hand, careful not to let the two in front overhear her amusement. "Still won't be taking no for an answer if he changes his mind though. I'm determined to see this through now."

The suggestion of carving Neville out into a better man to help improve his life sounded like quite a fun activity for Tracey to busy herself with. It was at the very least infinitely better than doing any of her assigned homework.

Hmmm. Maybe she could even start making Neville do her homework for her in exchange for these lessons.

"Anyway, I doubt he'll bail, and I think we've made great progress today too! So, in a big coincidental twist, I suppose everything happened to work out perfectly."

"I think so too." Daphne nodded slowly, recognizing the unexpected positive in today's events. Even still, she didn't think that was any reason for her not to apologise. She didn't want to be the sort that tried to escape from her wrongdoings and responsibilities.

It reminded her too much of Malfoy and his ilk for her liking.

It was only when the group had stepped into the looming shadow of Hogwarts that Daphne realised just how much of today had been possible because of her best friend. Without her presence and help today, she likely wouldn't have been able to bridge that gap with Neville — and, to a certain degree, Hermione.

"Thank you for inviting us out today, Tracey." Daphne said, her voice filled with tender sincerity, "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

Turning to face her, Tracey crinkled her button nose at Daphne and her words. The blonde prepared herself for the talkative brunette's usual snarky retort or clever quip, but just like Hermione earlier, Tracey had thrown herself at Daphne and wrapped her up in a big hug.

It had been so tight that Daphne swore her ribs had creaked in response.

"Ow." A strained cough escaped her before she was released.

Perhaps this was partially payback for what Tracey had gone through with Neville earlier, but painful as it was, Daphne had to admit the gesture was sweet. The simple act conveyed Tracey's feelings through and through. If that wasn't obvious enough, then the radiant smile on her pretty features was equally transparent of all of the love she held for her best friend too.

"Sorry," muttered Tracey. Her half-hearted apology was accompanied by a toothy grin, "Had to make it special. It's not every day that the Queen's so nice to me."

Daphne scoffed haughtily, her voice now posh, old-timey, and very befitting of her title.

"Ridiculous. I spared you this morning, did I not?" Her tone bore a striking similarity to the Malfoys now, enough that Tracey openly rolled her eyes and bowed mockingly in response.

"Her Lady's benevolence has truly been unparalleled since meeting Lord Potter!"

"I hear your tone, serf. Sarcasm directed at the monarchy?" Daphne fanned herself with her hand, looking offended, "Do you need reminding that I am your Queen?"

"I didn't vote for ya!"

"You don't vote for queens."

"That's what I'm sayin'!"

"Enough!" Daphne held her palm out to Tracey, silencing her. "To the gallows with you, knave."

And just like that, the two were back to shooting silly comments to the other again, snickering as they walked arm-in-arm towards the school's front doors.

*O*O*O*

Stepping into the library, Harry scanned his surroundings for the couple but found neither of them. The place was surprisingly devoid of life, with nought a student in sight. It seemed they were making the most of their free time in other parts of the castle.

He thought that Cedric and Cho had already left, and was about to do so too when the muffled sounds of people arguing started to grow louder and louder.

Curious, Harry went to investigate.

"...understand why you feel that way."

"Do you? It doesn't seem like it."

"I'm really trying here, Cho…"

It didn't take him long to realise that the voices were coming from one of the private cubicles he frequented, and it was just the person he was looking for. But it seemed he wasn't the only one who had noticed their argument either.

Madam Pince had emerged from behind her desk and was now marching towards the disruptive booth with a furious scowl on her face.

Biting down on his lip, Harry made a bold gambit to intercept her before she could rip the door off its hinges and unleash her fury upon its inhabitants. It was obvious that they were already arguing over something significant, and having Madam Pince intrude into their conversation wasn't going to make things any better for the couple.

"Excuse me, Madam Pince," Harry whispered as softly as he could, smoothly positioning himself between the librarian and the door to the private cubicle. Despite her comparatively smaller stature, Harry believed she was more than capable of bowling right through him. "You must be busy. Please, allow me to handle this."

Madam Pince looked none too pleased at the ruckus the two were making in her room, even though Harry thought it was relatively tame by his standards. Then again, anything beyond a whisper in her domain constituted a scream.

Thankfully, Harry had earned enough of her goodwill in the past that she could put her faith in him to solve this issue on her behalf.

"I want nothing more than a whisper, Mr Potter," hissed Madam Pince. She sounded like she was speaking Parseltongue with the way she was dragging out her words, "And please inform Mr Diggory and Miss Chang that I've deducted ten points from both of their Houses for their raucous disruption. I'd have expected better from the Hufflepuff's prefect."

"Oh, yes. Absolutely justifiable decision, ma'am. They really ought to know better." Harry responded with a few quick nods, hoping that his agreeable response would be enough to placate her.

Madam Pince stared at the door of the cubicle for another second before she huffed and turned around, her anger quelled. As soon as she was out of earshot, Harry breathed a sigh of relief at having successfully convinced her to step away.

Clearing his throat softly, Harry approached the door and knocked. The two voices died instantly.

A second passed.

"Hello?" Harry whispered, "Cedric?"

"Who's aski—" The muffled voice stopped as if trying to put a face to Harry's voice, "...Is that you, Harry?"

"Yes. Madam Pince is, uh… asking… if you two would mind lowering your voices."

The statement seemed to make one of the two groan, likely realising how loud they had been. Harry thought it might have been Cho.

Cedric cracked open the door and stuck his head out. Harry could see he looked rather mortified that they were overheard through the thin walls.

"...Sorry about that." He finally lowered his voice, glancing left and right cautiously as if expecting Madam Pince to pop out and attack him.

"No worries. Uh… I know it's a bad time, but do you have a moment?"

Cedric blinked and turned back to the unseen Cho, leaving the door only slightly ajar. Harry could barely make out the quiet conversation between the two.

Moments later, Cedric emerged from the room, shutting the door behind him as he exited.

"Sure thing." His eyes glanced over at a row of bookshelves where Madam Pince was seated behind, "But let's… uh… continue this outside, shall we?"

The two walked out of the library quietly, with Cedric doing his best to ignore Madam Pince and the intense glare she was sending him as they passed her desk.

Making their way out, the green-eyed teen briefly glanced out the windows that lined the corridor. From here, they could see the Quidditch field. Though with the skies as clear as they were, it didn't seem as though anyone was using it at the moment. He did spot Hagrid in the distance, tending to one of his many shrubs with a delicate hand.

Cedric's voice pulled Harry back to the hallway.

"So what can I help with, Harry?" asked the older boy with a friendly smile.

Even with Harry's growth spurt, Cedric's age gave him the advantage in height between the two — if only slightly. But Harry was noticeably broader than his fellow champion even with his robes on.

"It's a bit strange… but Hermione mentioned that you can do a perfect Portkey landing, so I was a bit curious and wanted to ask."

"Hermione Granger? Oh yes, I did meet her at the World Cup… A portkey landing, eh? Tricky thing that was. Took me more than a few tumbles back in the day before I got the hang of it. Embarrassed myself in front of a few of my dad's friends too." Cedric chuckled at the memory fondly.

"Well, I know I'm not in any position to ask, and you certainly don't need to, but I was hoping you could spare some time to teach me how to do it."

Cedric's smile dropped and he blinked twice. "Should I know why you want to learn that?"

"Not really, no." Harry shook his head, his face completely neutral.

"Right..." The taller teen scoffed, "Well, I wouldn't mind, but I don't suppose you just happened to have a Portkey just lying around to practise with, right?"

Harry's mouth nearly moved faster than his brain did. He was a moment away from automatically saying 'yes' when his senses tingled, and he stopped himself.

Cedric's tone and choice of words… Harry felt like he was dangling one foot above a bear trap, his toes gingerly tapping away on the plate that triggered it.

"...No. Of course not. That'd be very illegal."

It was the sort of thing Daphne would have chosen to say in this scenario, so Harry hedged his bets on it.

The Hufflepuff prefect stared at Harry for a little longer before breaking out into a small grin.

"Good answer!" The older teen nodded, "Given my position as a prefect, as well as my dad's ties with the Ministry, it'd be disingenuous of me not to report you if you did have one."

He thanked the stars he remembered that Hufflepuffs had strong moral codes.

Goddamned Hufflepuffs and their rules…

Harry assumed that Cedric wouldn't actually report him and surmised that he was just teaching him a lesson against sharing too much, especially with the Tournament starting soon. Loose lips did sink ships after all, and there was no telling how important any information could be to the other contestants, or how they'd use it against him.

Still, no reason to make Cedric aware of the fact that he knew how to make a Portkey, which was a more severe crime in comparison.

"With that being said, learning how to do that is going to be pretty impossible considering we don't have one to practice with..."

"I see…" Harry clicked his tongue, deflated. He was unable to hide the disappointment in his eyes.

He had really hoped to knock that particular challenge off his checklist soon, and he certainly would've preferred Cedric's guidance on the matter. Slamming into the floor, even if padded, didn't sound like a good way to spend his time. Inducing another vicious headache and passing out just wasn't too high up on his list of things to do either, even if it meant spending more time cuddling in the infirmary with his beloved blonde.

He was just about to thank Cedric for his time anyway when the older boy smirked and offered an alternative to Harry.

"...it's a good thing we can substitute it with brooms, huh? So sure, I'll help you."

Harry scoffed at the unexpectedly playful deception from Cedric, but his words did make sense though. It made him feel like an idiot for not realising it sooner.

Of course! You could simulate the same effect with a broom! All you'd probably have to do was spin a few times before throwing yourself off it. There'd surely be a few things that would be different, but it'd save him the trouble of reapplying the Portkey over and over again for each attempt.

"I owe you, Cedric."

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I think my House is giving you more than enough trouble anyways, even though I've told them off for it." The handsome Hufflepuff sighed, clearly disappointed in his Housemates' behaviour, "Besides, I imagine it won't take more than a few hours for you to pick up the gist of it anyway."

Cedric was alluding to Harry's skills on a broom, of course. But Harry did have a lot of experience with falling from places high up too. Surely those counted for something.

Cedric jabbed a thumb into his chest, "Just promise you'll help me out in the future, eh?"

"Of course I will." Harry promised before he gave the older boy a wry smile, "How about I cover your tickets for the next Quidditch World Cup?"

"That's in another four years, Harry," Cedric gave him a joking, unimpressed scoff, but Harry noted that he hadn't exactly declined.

"Plenty of time to befriend our fellow Champion, Bulgaria's best Seeker, don't you think? I'm sure in four years he could get his good friends and fellow Triwizard champions some discounted tickets." He joked.

The idea of befriending his idol was something Harry was hoping he'd be able to do. Not because there'd be monetary benefits to it, but because friendly games of Quidditch sounded way too good to pass up. The sheer intensity of racing against Viktor Krum to get the snitch… it was exhilarating just thinking about it.

"Ooh, and maybe he'll even let us sub in as Bulgaria's Beaters."

Cedric's joke had the two cackling at the idea. They'd certainly look entirely out of place amongst the rest of the team, whose grizzled looks made it seem like they spent a lifetime moulded in the rough and rugged environment.

Eventually, the two would agree to meet back up in the field in the coming days, where Cedric would help Harry with this niche technique.

But while they were still here, Harry supposed he could ask Cedric for some romantic advice too.

"If you've still got the time… do you mind if I ask you a thing or two about relationships too?"

"Relationships, huh?" Cedric's face fell a little, "Yeah… I know a thing or two about them."

It was then Harry recalled the earlier argument he had overheard between the Hufflepuff and the Ravenclaw.

"Is… um, everything good…? I mean, between you and Cho."

Cedric flinched at that. Embarrassed, he looked to the ground and coughed. It seemed that being overheard might've bothered him a little.

"Oh… You heard all that?"

"Just a tad at the end." Harry made an apologetic face for accidentally eavesdropping.

Cedric chuckled and his eyes flicked back up to Harry's, "We're having a little squabble. Not our first one, mind you. All couples have their spats. It's just a matter of if you and your partner can overcome them together."

"I see… I didn't mean to interrupt you two..."

"No… I think it was good you did. It was getting a little… heated between us, and taking a breather helped. It lets us reassess our thoughts and feelings." Cedric sighed as he stared out the windows, shaking his head, "You don't want to let your emotions get the best of you. Might just say something you don't mean in the heat of the moment."

The two boys fell into silence as a large flock of blackbirds soared past the windows that lined the hallway, briefly plunging the hallway into darkness as they blotted out the scant sunlight of the Scottish winter.

In the silence, Harry reflected upon Cedric and Cho's relationship. He had always thought of them as the perfect power couple in Hogwarts. So finding out that they had spats and arguments was quite disillusioning to the young teen, who knew little about romance. Despite all the suave flirting he did with Daphne and the bold front he normally put up, Harry was very clueless when it came to most of the depths and complexities of relationships.

The dull, grey light returned, washing over the hallway as the birds passed.

"...Will you guys be alright?"

"We will. You know what they say… to get stronger, one must be tempered in flames." Cedric was leaning against the wall now, his eyes looking towards the entrance of the library. His thoughts, presumably, on Cho, "I think that goes for relationships too."

Harry's mind wandered to thoughts of his own relationship. The teen couldn't think of any disagreements he might have ever had with Daphne, even before they had started dating. It wasn't an impossibility that they'd ever have fights in the future, but Harry just couldn't imagine seriously arguing with her over anything.

He'd find himself far too agreeable with whatever she wanted!

Still, he took note of Cedric's advice, believing there to be truth in the older boy's words.

"What if… you don't fight with your partner over anything?"

Cedric gave Harry an odd look at his question before answering.

"I think my dad would call that a miracle, Harry." The older boy snickered, "But if you don't quibble over anything, well… maybe you might just be soulmates."

Soulmates. Harry had given that some thought. It sure felt like they were destined to be together.

"With all these questions you've been asking, it sounds like you've already got yourself a girl, Harry…" Cedric was joking, but Harry still found himself caught off-guard by the suddenness of that question.

The sombre mood was instantly shattered by Harry's stutters.

"I—I, uh… um…" Torn between his desire to keep the secret and the overwhelming urge to share it with Cedric, Harry found himself looking rather silly. Every muscle in his face seemed to rebel against his efforts to suppress the growing smile that insisted on breaking through.

When it came to the topic of Daphne, how could Harry not want to gush about how lucky he was to have her?

To Cedric, seeing Harry struggle to find an answer was an answer in itself.

So there was a girl… but who?

The Hufflepuff obviously didn't have concrete evidence of who she was, but he could make an educated guess. There had already been a few rumours that said Harry had been seen walking the halls with an unknown blonde on his back when school started. After the Hogsmeade trip, several students had made claims that Harry and Daphne Greengrass had been sighted together in various shops, though the massive snowball fight caused by the Weasley Twins seemed to have overshadowed that topic.

But Cedric had shared the carriage with them that day and had personally witnessed just how chummy the two had looked, especially on the ride back — equally red-faced as they traded whispers with each other.

His eyes lit up as it all added up.

"It's Greengrass, isn't it?" Cedric asked in a manner that only an older brother could when they found out about their little brother's crush. He suddenly bore an uncanny resemblance to Fred and George when they started making fun of Ron for something.

Since the prefect had pieced the puzzle together on his own, technically the promise hadn't been broken. Still, Harry thought it was only fair that he continued to keep his mouth shut about it all in a vain attempt to honour his promise to Daphne.

"I can neither confirm… nor deny that…" muttered Harry.

"Of course, of course," Cedric seemed understanding of the situation, even without requiring an explanation. As a student of Hogwarts for many years, he understood the need for secrecy when it came to a relationship like Harry's. A supposed relationship between Gryffindors and Slytherins was like oil and fire, a truly volatile situation that could explode at any moment if their housemates found out.

Though Harry's lips were set in a thin line, he couldn't hide the happiness in his eyes that her name seemed to elicit.

"...But what I can say is that she's bloody brilliant and the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Say no more, Potter! You little lovebirds! Your secret's safe with me." Cedric declared, looking at the younger teen proudly, "The two of you… whoever she is… sound perfect together."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that compliment. He hadn't spared it any thought just how they would look to others as a couple, so it felt nice to hear it from someone he respected.

"Thanks, Cedric." Harry suddenly remembered what else he had meant to ask, "Oh, yes. I wanted to ask you about dates and gifts too…"

Cedric would spend a few more moments guiding Harry through how he handled gift ideas for future events as well as the basics of how to plan dates during their time in Hogwarts...

"If you ever struggle to think of gifts, a good strategy I developed is to retrace my steps with them. Look back on where you've been to or the things you've done together and you can usually find something sentimental in your shared memories."

"Right, I've already got a few ideas for gifts in mind that I think she'd like."

"I think most girls will love whatever you give them as long as there's been effort put into it, be it through your thoughts or actions."

Harry nodded, committing the advice to heart.

"What about dates? We've only been on one, and it was great! But I'm not too familiar with what else we can do in school. It feels a little limited."

"Harry, we're in a magical school with all sorts of co-curricular activities, magical or otherwise. I'm sure you can figure out something the two of you can do together besides going to Hogsmeade… or snogging."

Harry had the decency to blush at that.

By the end of it, Harry felt a bit more well-equipped and confident, ready to tackle the challenges of being a doting boyfriend.

"That's enough for now but I can't thank you enough for today, Cedric. You've been a great help." Harry acknowledged Cedric's assistance by expressing his gratitude with a slight bow.

Cedric, feeling a touch modest at Harry's deference, responded humbly, "I didn't think the advice was that good, Harry… but you're welcome. Besides, I get the feeling that our names being drawn together was a sign — at least for us to help each other out, even outside of the tournament."

Extending his hand to Harry, Cedric's self-assured handshake spoke volumes. In that simple gesture, Harry discerned why the Hufflepuffs respected Cedric so much — even beyond his role as a prefect. Cedric's natural charisma and confidence notwithstanding — Harry found himself believing in his words through just the firm grasp of his hand.

"I agree. I'm glad the Goblet called you up too."

It was a little relieving that Cedric wasn't the sort of person like Draco. Life was already throwing him his yearly curveball and having a fellow champion actively sabotaging him would have been extra annoying to deal with.

"But just so we're clear, this doesn't mean I'm going easy on you. You can expect me at my best during the trials, Harry." Cedric looked confident, but Harry didn't appear shaken in the least. He was smiling amicably at the implication of a friendly rivalry between them.

"I do hope so," Harry agreed smugly, "There aren't any Dementors this year."

Cedric erupted into a hearty belly laugh at Harry's cocky response before he playfully chased the boy off with a shaking fist.

"Oh, bugger off, Potter!" cried Cedric, pretending to adopt the same attitude as his Housemates, "Go find your missus!"

Harry dashed down the hallway, laughter trailing behind him. As he vanished down the turn, Harry managed to shout over his shoulder.

"See you on the pitch in a few days then, Cedric! Oh—! And Madam Pince said she's taking ten points from both of your Houses! Sorry...!"

Hearing the news from the fading, echoey voice, Cedric's smile dropped abruptly. Groaning loudly, he wondered just how he, as their House's prefect, was going to explain the deduction in points to Professor Sprout. With a sigh, he slowly meandered his way back into the library, hoping that Cho wouldn't chew him out for taking so long with Harry.

She certainly wasn't going to be too pleased about the deductions to her house's points in her name either.

*O*O*O*

After returning to the main space of the castle, the four students found themselves back in the thick of it.

Given the nature of the day, there were dozens upon dozens of students all around them spending their free time with each other. The space was nice and warm, providing proper refuge from the elements, which likely explained why there were so many more students milling about indoors than out.

There were groups of older students lazing about by the stone benches and walls, accompanied by students from the visiting schools and getting to know each other. Off to the side, they spotted some young Slytherin boys teaching Exploding Snap to a couple of the Drumstrang boys. There was also a gaggle of Hogwarts and Beauxbatons girls huddled together on one of the stone benches, currently in an intense discussion over the newest in magical beauty, as well as trading styling tips from their respective countries.

Laughter and conversations filled the air around them as students spent their afternoon socialising with each other. With all the activity going on, no one paid any of the four any mind.

Daphne, Hermione, and Neville removed their caps and tucked them away in their jacket pockets.

"I'll see you lot for a late lunch then," said Tracey as she wasted no time, already walking off, "I'm going ta have myself a nice, long shower!"

Neville was next, bowing ever so slightly to the two remaining girls.

"Thanks for inviting me out today, Daphne. I don't normally get to go out with— uh… friends." He tested the word to gauge Daphne's reaction. Seeing the friendly look in her eyes, he continued. "Today, it was really fun, even if scary."

Daphne regarded him with a languished smile and simply nodded in response. Her apology would have to come at a better time — perhaps while bearing some small gifts.

Neville looked only slightly nervous for a moment before he steeled his features. "...Would it be alright if I still come for lunch?"

The remorse vanished from her face upon hearing Neville's initiative, and Daphne brightened up. The strides he had made today with Tracey's help were already starting to show.

"Of course. We'd already assumed you'd be joining us for that as well, Neville." Her answer seemed to excite him as if he had never been invited anywhere for reasons beyond just pity or necessity.

The young man found himself briefly captivated by the beauty of her genuineness. There was something gorgeous in the kind way she smiled at him — the way she spoke to him.

He felt… wanted.

She gave him instructions on how to meet them at their hideaway, and Neville nearly tripped over himself leaving. He scuttled off to the Gryffindor dorms with a silly smile on his face.

Now left with just Hermione and Daphne, they looked at each other. Neither planned to hit the showers since they hadn't gone for such an intensive ride.

"I'm sure you're probably tired of 'thank you's' at this point…"

"Oh, a few more couldn't hurt…" Daphne responded coyly.

"Then… thank you once again, Daphne."

In response, Daphne playfully tapped Hermione on the shoulder with a snort.

"I'm joking, Hermione. No thanks necessary. We are friends after all, aren't we?"

Hermione didn't think she needed to respond to that. The question practically answered itself.

Hearing it uttered again felt different to both girls now, especially without the blood-thumping awkwardness from before. It had certainly made up for the weeks of awkwardly dancing around each other when Harry wasn't around.

"Well, with all the thanking finally out of the way, I don't suppose you have a place in mind for us to hang out while waiting for the other two?" asked Daphne.

The reply, which Daphne really should've anticipated, was as instantaneous as it was enthusiastic.

"The library, of course!" Hermione swore she could already hear the books calling out to her, begging her to take them off the shelves. The thought of settling into a nice comfy chair while she got lost in their words and passages was already making her bounce ever so slightly on her heels.

Daphne snickered at her response and allowed herself to be led away by the excited brunette. She should have known better than to ask Hermione a question like that. After all, what better place was there for a student like her to wind down?

The two spoke as they made their way through Hogwarts' twisting corridors and shifting stairs, eventually landing on the subject of Hogsmeade, and what had transpired that day on Hermione's end.

"—Can you believe he had the nerve to leave me behind?" fumed Hermione quietly, "All because he thought it'd be 'weird to have you there with the rest of the guys without Harry around'."

Ah. That explained why Weasley and the rest of the Gryffindor boys had been spotted at the inn without Hermione's company.

Daphne felt her conviction to punish Weasley grow ever so slightly stronger.

"A shame. Had you been around, perhaps they could've been spared." The blonde sighed and muttered under her breath.

"Did you say something, Daphne?"

"Only how terrible that is…" replied the blonde quickly, "Well, fret not. If Weasley won't appreciate some personal time with you, then I will."

"You're too sweet."

"I think you're too sweet. I wouldn't have had the patience to deal with Weasley if I were you. But enough about him. Tell me more about what you did that day." They continued their conversation, talking about how she'd gone to Flourish and Blotts, rummaging through the store to look for new editions of the books she'd already read before.

They were approaching the next turn when, from around the corner, a figure lunged out in front of them.

"Hello, ladies!"

The girls shared a surprised shriek and they leapt a good deal back. Wands were drawn without a second of hesitation. Daphne positioned herself protectively in the front, while Hermione provided support from behind. She shielded them both with a basic Protego — weak and shaky, but still an added layer of protection nonetheless.

Her wand aimed squarely at their chest, the Slytherin had been moments away from unleashing a hex. Thankfully, she took half a second more to assess the threat in front of them. And it was a good thing she did.

"Harry?" Daphne dropped her wand arm upon recognising her boyfriend. Hermione lowered the shield she had raised as well.

"Daphne!"

The two groups approached each other before—

"You idiot!"

—Daphne thwacked him on the forehead with her palm. His head bobbed back and forth from the impact like it was on a spring.

"Owwww…" He whined, seemingly more hurt by her intention than her actual actions.

"That's for scaring us, you dolt." Daphne returned her wand back into her robes.

"I couldn't help myself." Harry chuckled playfully, rubbing the back of his head even though it didn't hurt. "I heard you two coming down the hall."

Hermione put one hand on her hips and waggled her wand at him, pouting, "We could've accidentally hexed you!"

"No doubts about that! You guys were bloody quick, huh?" Harry exclaimed, sincerely impressed with their performance as he imitated the movements he had just witnessed. "I saw the way you moved to shield her, Daphne, wand drawn and hexes ready to fly! And Hermione, when did you learn how to perform Protego? I've never seen you do it before."

Both girls flushed at the compliments, feeling as though Harry had turned the tables on them. The lack of teasing that was usually found in his compliments made them feel a little inhibited.

"All I did was step in front of her…" Though being praised by Harry made her heart soar, the usually prideful Daphne had modestly downplayed her actions. She placed her hands behind her back and threaded her fingers together.

While Harry hated the idea of Daphne being exposed to danger, he had to admit that seeing her first instinct being to protect her friend from an unknown threat had struck a chord in him. It reminded him of the sacrifice his mother had made for him, and he couldn't help but feel proud.

Hermione, on the other hand, stood firm with pride in her brown eyes. "I learnt it from watching you practise it a few days ago!"

Harry had learnt the basics of the spell after borrowing a Sixth year Gryffindor's DADA textbook. And though its power was still limited given his inexperience, it was at least capable of providing some defence when there wasn't any cover around.

"I really shouldn't have expected any less from the two best witches in the school." Harry nodded sagely, "You two make a really good team!"

"Oh, never mind that!" Feeling slightly flustered, Daphne brushed his compliments aside, "Are you done with your errands? We'll be having lunch together later."

"Why wait?" He gestured to the three of them, "We could go now."

"We're still waiting on Tracey and Neville to get cleaned up."

"And Tracey's likely going to be taking her time," added Hermione.

"Oka— did you say Neville?" He stared at his girlfriend, who offered him a smug smile. "When did you get friendly with him? I haven't even been gone that long!"

"I seem to have a knack for making friends in your absence." She gave Hermione a knowing look. Harry, none the wiser to the events that had transpired between them earlier, failed to notice the suppressed laughter from Hermione, who found her statement to be quite accurate.

This time it was Harry's turn to pout. "I know he's rather handsome, Greengrass, but don't be so quick to replace me. I just got into your good graces."

Daphne rolled her eyes at how Tracey had echoed the same sentiments earlier. She wondered if the two shared the same brain sometimes. It'd honestly explain a lot.

"I haven't grown that bored of you, Potter," replied the blonde with a coy smirk and Harry pretended to wipe the worry off his brow.

"Phew… Good. I plan on being a thorn in your side for a lot longer. So, what did I miss out on?"

"A lot, actually," replied Hermione, and the two girls shared another humorous look, "But we should save it for later."

"Indeed. For now, I'll be accompanying Hermione to the library."

Hermione nodded, excited once again at the mention of her favourite place in the school, "It's going to be fun!"

"Well, I don't know about 'fun'... but it'd be a nice break, at least. Will you be alright being on your own for a bit longer, Harry?"

Harry could infer that their plans to spend more time together didn't include him. Though, instead of looking disappointed that he hadn't been invited, he seemed rather pleased.

"Of course!"

"Got something planned…?" Daphne asked, curious.

"Nope. I'm just really happy seeing one of my best friends and my girlfriend getting along so well," Harry's smile faltered for a bit. "Especially after the stuff with Ron, I…"

Daphne took note of the weight that had appeared in Harry's expression, as well as his unspoken words. It was obvious he still cared deeply for Ron. And even if she didn't like him much, she hoped for Harry's sake that they'd make up eventually.

It took him a second but he picked his smile back up quickly, "Nevermind. I'll go get washed up in the meantime. I'll get Neville after, and we'll meet up with you ladies later then."

"Sure. Take all the time you need, Harry."

*O*O*O*

The two girls greeted Madam Pince as they entered and quickly lost themselves amongst the rows of towering shelves. There were books and books, and more books in every direction, and Daphne found herself rightly amused at how excitable the usually composed Gryffindor was acting.

She supposed it was exactly like how she behaved when it came to gushing about Harry.

After picking out books that had caught their attention, they met up at the back of the library.

Settling into her favourite spot with her choice of book in hand, Hermione sighed contentedly. She cracked it open, and began to dive into the subject matter of 'Basic Magical Archaeology 101'. Daphne settled in across from her with a small booklet that fitted in her hands snugly. It was a pocket-sized guide, the tiny words on the cover reading 'Magical Mini Omnibus: Foreign Lands and Their Cultures'.

As they read their books silently, Daphne couldn't help but compare just how much more peaceful and quiet Hermione's hobbies were to Tracey's. It was a nice change of pace, though she could see Tracey struggling to keep still if they tried to do this as a group. The last thing she wanted was for Madam Pince to give them an earful because Tracey's limited attention span couldn't handle being surrounded by silence and a bunch of books.

They weren't quite sure how much time had passed when the soft sound of a door creaking open nearby caught their attention. Looking up from their books, the two girls turned and watched as Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang emerged from one of the private booths, hurriedly making their way past Madam Pince without sparing the woman a glance.

"I wonder what they were doing," Hermione asked quietly as she peered over her book.

Daphne snorted at the sight of the two departing hastily, "Probably getting handsy with one another in private."

"Oh! …Wouldn't it be easier to just use an unused classroom?" Hermione asked innocently, sinking ever so slightly to hide her blush behind the hardcovers.

"They probably find the added thrill of getting caught exhilarating," speculated Daphne with a sly smirk.

She was joking, of course. It was the sort of joke Tracey would've immediately picked up on. But the innocent bookworm opposite her hadn't seemed to have realised that.

"How wicked…" gasped Hermione from behind the book's covers at the potential defilement of the library's sanctity.

A moment of silence lingered between the two as they returned to their reading, but Daphne could sense Hermione's growing tension. It was the same energy Hermione normally exhibited just before she raised her hand to answer a question in class — like a coiled spring ready to pop.

Right on cue, her brown eyes slowly peeled themselves from the words on the pages and glanced at Daphne. Ever curious, Hermione hesitantly voiced the lingering question that felt like it was burning a hole in her mouth.

"Have you and Harry ever…?" she trailed off, and the implication of her question had Daphne's blue eyes going wide in surprise.

"Hermione!" The hushed exclamation startled the brunette, who watched as the blonde stood ever so slightly in her seat. "I can't believe you'd—"

She paused and blinked as her mind flashed back to yesterday's events, as well as the time the two of them had playfully wrestled on the Hogsmeade bench.

Did those count?

She didn't think the Hogsmeade one did… But yesterday... it was dipping into the realm of 'handsy'... right?

After all, she still remembered how her body felt pressed up against his as she slept against him. How secure she felt wrapped up in his tender embrace.

How she liked it when he had her pinned down to the bed, drowning her in his touch.

Oh, my…

Now that she thought about it… did he also have those same thoughts about her and her body?

Did he also yearn for her touch... and to touch her?

Oh, my!

Now that was certainly a thought.

As she considered that embarrassingly self-conscious idea, Daphne's snow-white complexion melted away, now as red as Autumn leaves.

Mistaking Daphne's speechlessness and reddened face as silent indignation, Hermione immediately started to apologise for prying with her wandering curiosity.

"N—No!" It took Daphne a moment to find her voice, choking out a response to tell Hermione that it wasn't her fault. "It's just… we haven't even kissed each other on the lips yet… Let alone… you know…"

Despite sounding as if she were admonishing Hermione, she was directing it more towards herself.

Given how she had just been poking fun at the other couple moments ago, her reaction was rather ironic. But Hermione didn't call her out for it, too busy blushing at having asked the question and at Daphne's bashful reaction. It was as if Daphne's embarrassment had infected her, spreading like a strange virus.

"Ah," squeaked Hermione in understanding. She said no more, suddenly finding the text in her book even more eye-catching than before.

With wide, weary eyes and a heavy exhale, Daphne deflated back into her seat. She weakly picked up her book, trying to carry on where she had left off, but found herself still very distracted by her earlier train of thought.

Thankfully, there was another occurrence happening nearby that took her mind off it.

Victor Krum came sprinting into the library, quickly slipping him between two bookshelves in what looked to be an attempt to hide himself. Daphne and Hermione shared a confused glance for a moment, wondering just what was about to unfold before looking back at his hiding spot.

It was quickly evident what he had been running from as a group of female students, spanning all ages, came rushing by the entrance. There were even a few blue Beauxbaton dresses that stood out amongst the horde of black robes.

"Wait!" They heard one of the girls cry to the rest, "He might've gone in here!"

The girls then began to pile into the library en masse, calling out for the Bulgarian superstar loudly as they did. But before they could make it any further into the room, the air turned frigid.

Madam Pince had risen from her desk.

The woman looked like she was about to lay down the law as she approached the horde of raving girls without an ounce of hesitation.

"Out! This is a library, not a zoo! Get out!"

Impressively, it took mere seconds for her to send the fangirls scattering in the wind. The older girls, who recognised her, immediately withdrew and took the younger ones with them. No threats and wand-waving had even been necessary to scare them off. She had repelled them away with just her intimidating presence and ferocious tone.

"Wow, I haven't seen Madam Pince that furious since Harry tried to return a book he damaged as if nothing had happened," Hermione noted.

"Remind me never to get on her bad side…"

Krum poked his head out from around the corner of the shelf. Seeing that the coast was clear of his fans, he stepped out and tugged the ends of his sweater with an annoyed huff. He surveyed his surroundings momentarily, his gaze brushing past the two girls seated in the back before doubling back in a sudden double take.

It was clear he recognised Daphne, and still under the impression that she was a big fan of his, he began to approach their table. Seeing that it was impossible to pretend like she hadn't witnessed the whole spectacle of his fans getting booted out by the librarian, Daphne simply put on a polite smile as he approached.

"Um, Daphne?" Hermione asked, slightly nervous, as the imposing young man walked over in great strides.

"Just follow my lead..." Daphne muttered out of the corner of her upturned mouth, "Hello, Viktor."

"Hello… eh, Daphne, yes?" He asked tentatively.

"Indeed. But I don't recall introducing myself to you."

"I azked the Malfoy boy that day," he clarified.

"Ah. The Malfoy boy. Of course. I hope he's been a good guide to you." If Malfoy was anything like what she thought he'd be in the presence of someone like Krum, then he surely had been spending the last few days trying to suck up to Viktor like a sycophantic mosquito.

"Eh, he iz… how you zay, clin-gy?" Krum shrugged and jabbed a thumb at the entrance, "Very annoying. Like thoze girlz."

Daphne couldn't help the brief, amused snort that escaped her. She hummed in agreement, quite pleased to hear that, despite his best attempts, Draco had little to none of Krum's goodwill.

Then Viktor took a moment to regard Hermione, who had put her book down in her usual show of good manners. Daphne detected the faintest hint of pink on her cheeks. Despite what Hermione had said, Daphne assumed her friend might have found Krum handsome — if only a little.

Perhaps all the earlier teasing about Viktor Krum had started to get to Hermione…

"And who iz your friend?" Viktor asked nicely, gesturing towards Hermione.

"Oh, my apologies. This is Hermione Granger from Gryffindor."

"Hello, Viktor… it's very nice to meet you." Hermione rose a little stiffly, not having expected Daphne to introduce her.

She reached across the table to politely shake Viktor's outstretched arm. Seeing her cordial mannerisms, the stiffness in his lips they had come to recognise on the brawny Bulgarian lessened ever so slightly. He took her hand gently into his and gave her a firm, but gentle, handshake.

"Nice to meet you too, Hermy-own." He said, mispronouncing her name through his thick accent.

"It's 'Her-mi-o-ne'." The bushy-haired girl corrected, repeating it slowly once more syllable by syllable.

"Ah, I apologi-zes for my pronun-ziation… Hermy-own-ie," He chuckled ever so slightly out of embarrassment at still being unable to pronounce her name. "Zorry."

"Oh, it's quite alright." Hermione hid her soft laughter behind the back of her hand. She completely understood why he struggled with pronouncing her name.

"Uh… are you alzo big fan?" He asked Hermione, gesturing to himself and then at Daphne.

Hermione, who didn't know what had transpired between Daphne, Viktor, and the stolen poster she had given to Harry, raised a brow at Daphne.

"Wha—?"

Daphne cut in quickly.

"She is! Why — she even attended the World Cup in person, didn't she?"

Under the table, a foot gently nudged Hermione's shin.

"Oh, yes!" Hermione nodded suddenly, "A terribly close match, wasn't it? Hopefully, Bulgaria will get the chance to play against Ireland again at the next World Cup." With Daphne by her side and a bit more confidence, she felt less awkward talking to Viktor than she normally would have.

The young man thanked her for her encouragement, evidently pleased that the two calm girls were nothing like the sort he had come to know within Hogwarts' walls.

"May I zit?" Krum asked courteously. Hermione gave Daphne a wide-eyed look, and she could feel Hermione's foot prodding her back under the table, likely telling her to send Viktor away.

It wasn't that she hated his presence. She just wasn't quite so sure if she could really enjoy her book, while Viktor (presumably) watched both of them read.

"I don't see why not. Please," replied Daphne, gesturing to the head of the table. It maintained a respectable distance of a single seat between himself and both girls.

As Krum settled into the offered seat, Hermione shot Daphne a confused look that silently inquired about her intentions. Daphne winked, and mouthed the words 'play along'.

Having Viktor Krum partake in their little book club hadn't been part of her expectations today. Nonetheless, as the Bulgarian began to enquire about their books of choice, Daphne kept her answers curt and short, while Hermione dutifully answered him in her usual, scholarly fashion. Viktor was struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire explanation and verbose vocabulary Hermione wielded, but he still nodded along — even if he didn't quite seem to fully understand everything.

Daphne jumped in every so often as well, but she mainly sat back in her seat, gauging their interaction.

She had been observing Viktor and his body language closely since he approached and had made note of the shifts in his demeanour. She noted that he was much friendlier with them. Significantly less gruff and tight-lipped than his usual public persona. Years of observational skills told Daphne that he felt a level of comfort that surpassed anyone else she'd seen him interact with — even that creepy Headmaster, Karkaroff, who lingered around his champion like a shadow.

Daphne understood that this behaviour might have been because Viktor fancied her a little, but the fact that he was treating Hermione essentially the same was a good sign.

A very good sign, indeed.

Given what he said earlier, it was likely because neither of them clawed and clamoured at him like the crazed fans he had been surrounded by since he got here. Even if they were the supposed 'big fans' they claimed they were, he must have felt a lot more at ease at their refreshingly subdued and cordial manners, as well as the way they treated him like a normal person.

Wouldn't you know it, this all made for a fantastic opportunity! One that she just couldn't pass up!

And though Daphne had already learned a valuable lesson after messing with Neville today — she, of course, had good reasons for asking Krum to stay beyond teasing Hermione.

In one fell swoop, she could introduce Hermione to a handsome bachelor and get her mind off Harry, while simultaneously diverting Krum's attention away from herself.

It was a win-win-win!

And if he started dating Hermione, then there'd be a chance he'd naturally befriend Harry too, which meant there'd be one more win in it!

Talk about killing loads of birds with one stone! Daphne's efficiency was off the charts!

Having made this decision, Daphne lessened her interactions with the two and waited for a few minutes to pass. Even though the two were engrossed in their conversation, Daphne still made the effort to pretend to glance at the clock on the wall. A look of feigned shock sprung onto her face and she made sure to gasp loud enough to catch both of their attention.

"Oh my! Look at the time…" Daphne abruptly stood with a melodramatic sigh, "Terribly sorry, Viktor, but I forgot I was meeting my boyfriend in a bit."

She was excusing herself, yes, but had also used the opportunity to slyly mention the existence of her boyfriend to Krum. And the result was immediate.

Hearing the word, Krum looked slightly crestfallen and disappointed. But much like his loss to Ireland, he seemed to pick himself back up quickly, which Daphne breathed a silent sigh of relief at.

"I zee… That iz no pro-blem."

She continued, "In the meantime, I'll leave you in Hermione's capable company. Do feel free to get to know her for a bit more. She's a very sweet girl."

"Yez," agreed the Bulgarian amicably, "Hermy-own-ie iz very nice. And obviouz-ly very smart."

Both girls hadn't been too sure if that last part had been a joke, but it was clear Hermione appreciated his compliments nonetheless.

Daphne addressed her again. "I'll see you in about twenty minutes at the usual spot, alright?"

Hermione was still confused but nodded silently. Given her newfound trust in Daphne, she knew whatever she had planned for her was in her best interests. Left to spend the next twenty minutes with Viktor, Hermione supposed it wasn't too hard a task given she had already been doing so for the last few minutes without any issue.

As Daphne walked away, she could hear that they had seamlessly resumed their conversation even without her around. Satisfied, she felt comfortable to leave the two to their devices.

The blonde was unable to deny the excitement of playing Cupid for Hermione and Viktor. They looked quite cute together too.

The taciturn, handsome athlete paired with the chatty, cute bookworm? The parallels were perfect! It felt like a match made in Heaven!

Now all it would take was a bit of tender loving care and guidance to help with parts of Hermione's appearance and confidence-building, and she'd surely be able to flourish in aspects outside of her education.

And it wasn't just Hermione and Krum either. After spotting the faint sparks between Tracey and Neville, she was eager to start getting involved on that front too.

No wonder Tracey was always meddling with others. It was admittedly pretty fun!

Thankfully, even with her focus on all the potential relationships around her, Daphne remembered to return her borrowed book as she left. After the earlier display, she wasn't keen on earning the rest of Madam Pince's ire.

*O*O*O*

Filling Neville in had taken a little longer than Harry expected.

Given that Daphne had formally welcomed Neville into their group, he supposed there was no point in trying to hide the secret from him as well as he was bound to figure it out anyway — either through their displays of affection… or from Tracey.

Neville had, understandably, been shocked, though he seemed to have recovered faster than Harry had expected. He seemed more curious than anything. But whatever questions he might have had were to be saved for another time as they were already running late for their group lunch.

When the boys entered, it seemed as though the girls hadn't been too bothered by their delay. Hermione, still in her clothes from before, was seated on a chair between Daphne and Tracey, who were back in their robes and uniforms.

They were practically leering down at her with the way they were positioned. Daphne was half-sat along the edge of a desk, leaning over the Gryffindor, while Tracey was seated on top of another with her legs crossed.

Placed on the teacher's table at the front of the class were wooden mugs and platters of food, enough to heartily feed a small party.

But instead of eating, they were huddled up together in discussion.

"...happened next?"

"We just spoke a little more about my book, and I was impressed at and complimented his English, which he only picked up quite recently. And, well, he's honestly a lot nicer than I had originally thought…" Hermione's mumbled ramble recounting what had happened was innocently sweet. "...And afterwards, he said 'I hope to zee you around again'."

Her impression of Krum's accent was spot on, yet silly. It was enough for Tracey to start giggling at.

"That's all?" asked Daphne, reaching out to swat at her laughing friend's arm.

"That's all."

"Well, lucky you, Granger," Tracey grinned down at the other brunette, who looked a little modest for someone who likely held the record of 'Longest Conversation with Viktor Krum' in Hogwarts.

"H—How so?" asked Hermione, clearly confused.

"Can ya imagine him saying that to any other girl in school?"

"I… suppose not… Wait, hold on! Firstly, I don't even like him like that. And secondly, he's just…" She seemed to struggle to find the right words, "...reciprocating my politeness!"

"Oh, he's reciprocatin' something else, alright!" Tracey waggled her brow knowingly at Daphne, rapidly blowing kisses into the air. But with the exaggerated features she had put on, Tracey looked less like someone who was kissing, and more like a fish that had been stranded on land.

"Ew!" Hermione looked aghast at Tracey's impression.

Even though she was giggling, Daphne started swatting at Tracey again, who continued to kiss the air undeterred.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he stepped into their conversation.

"Granger's got a boyfriend~!" Tracey informed the boys in a sing-song tone.

"Wow! Already, Hermione?" gasped Neville.

Harry was nearly floored at the news. First Daphne and Tracey had befriended Neville in the time that he was gone, and now Hermione had a boyfriend?! Did someone have access to a Time-Turner, or were things just progressing abnormally fast today?

"Please," Hermione groaned, "Viktor's barely even a friend."

"Viktor?!" Both boys cried out at once.

Daphne ignored their outburst, still focused on Hermione. "Not to him. I've spent a grand total of five minutes with him and he thinks we're friends too."

Ignored, Harry asked again, wide-eyed. "Wait, as in Krum?!"

"Duh! How are you the best Seeker in this school, Potter? Ya sure catch on slowly," snorted Tracey, "Take any longer and they might already be hitched!"

Before either Harry or Hermione could respond to that, Daphne held her hands out to settle everyone down.

"Let's all just calm down and not jump to conclusions," The blonde knew Harry would probably start foaming at the mouth if she didn't quell his excitement over the subject of Krum, which she was also admittedly invested in now that Hermione was involved. "Hermione and I met Viktor earlier, and I got them acquainted with each other."

"We were talking about this just now too. Like, what a coincidence, huh? Might have ta replace Professor Trawlaney at this rate…" Tracey tapped the middle of her forehead with a finger at her prediction. She hopped off the desk, "Should we start a betting pool for when they start dating?"

They all shared a chuckle as Hermione sank her face into her hands.

"Enough about my non-existent love life!" She begged with a groan, switching subjects out of embarrassment, "Can we please just start eating already?"

"Alright, people. Let's all respect Hermione's privacy and give her some space." Despite those words, Daphne was conveniently omitting the fact that she was one of the main culprits in pestering Hermione. "Sorry, Hermione… Well, now that the boys are finally here…"

She began directing them in arranging the room for their lunch. Harry and Neville got to work shifting the desks as per her instructions, while Hermione and Tracey started to clean up the rest of the room, reverting the mess Harry had made earlier on in the day.

"Were you trying out a new spell, Harry?" Hermione asked as she vanished bits of the rubble at a time. Daphne herself was busy patching up the holes in the walls, as well as levitating chairs around for all of them to use.

"Yeah, Potter," Tracey stacked the used mattresses to one side with lazy motions, "Looks like a bloody tornado tore this place up."

"Sorry!" He grunted out as he dragged a heavy table in each of his hands, clearly still trying to exercise whenever he could. Behind him, Neville had opted to use his wand instead of his bare hands. "I might have gone a little overboard earlier."

By the time they were done, they had shifted nearly all of the tables and chairs back to the far walls, leaving space in the middle for the six desks they had pushed up against each other. It formed a makeshift, miniature grand table — the sort they find in the Hall for each of the Houses. At least here, away from the public's eye, they were free to sit amongst each other without drawing any unnecessary questions.

Neville, Hermione, and Tracey were seated in order on one side, while Daphne and Harry sat on the other.

Harry had an arm slung over Daphne's shoulder. With the differences in their height, Harry's chin was almost at her forehead. Regardless, she snuggled into him, soft smiles on both their faces. Along with Neville, they watched as Hermione and Tracey carefully levitated the meals over from the front of the class. The attention of those seated was all suddenly distracted as Tracey continued to gasp dramatically, repeatedly pretending to drop the hovering plates as if they had slipped from her grasp mid-air.

Seeing their focus elsewhere, Daphne brandished her wand under the table. She uttered the words 'muffliato'. An invisible buff surrounded herself and Harry, and her boyfriend gave her a confused look at the need for privacy.

"Say, Harry… it's a bit sudden, but can you imagine Tracey and Neville?" asked Daphne, "Together?"

Harry was surprised by the question. He subtly glanced over between the two, watching as Neville fretted over Tracey's antics, who was currently being scolded by Hermione whilst the food continued to dangle in the air precariously.

He was reminded of what he had discussed with Astoria. A hopeful future where relationships between Gryffindors and Slytherins could form.

Looking back to Daphne, he nodded thoughtfully and whispered back.

"I could see it. It is a tried-and-tested trope, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Daphne curiously.

"The pretty, popular Slytherin girl that bullies the meek, handsome, and humble Gryffindor boy? I've seen that dynamic work before somewhere. I think all he has to do is get her to break her nose on him."

Daphne knitted her brows together in confusion, trying to make sense of what he was saying. A second later, she put it together and rolled her eyes, having expected a more serious answer.

"Ugh, moron…" Harry stifled his laughter by burying his face into her hair. Daphne quickly joined him in giggling before adopting a more thoughtful tone, as if seriously considering his words. "Though she did say he was a wall like you. She definitely would've broken something walking into him."

"Gryffindors are dangerous creatures, aren't they?" Harry's voice was muffled, his face still buried in her hair.

"Very much so," whispered Daphne in response, doing her best to ignore the flashes in her memory of the few times when Harry had her pinned to beds.

Those memories were going to be reserved for a more... private setting.

"I'm sorry you're dating such a dangerous beast," apologised Harry jokingly.

"Only at the beginning, Harry. And only for my nose," corrected Daphne as she stroked his arm gently. "Now you're less 'dangerous', more 'domesticated'."

"You must have been paying good attention in Professor Hagrid's classes then." He leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. Daphne happily returned the favour. "Are you worried about Nev— uh, them?"

Given Tracey's nature, it was obvious Harry was more worried about Neville.

"Not really. Tracey's playing nice with him." It was more than could be said for most boys Tracey interacted with.

"Well, Neville's a great guy, and Tracey's the perfect girl to bring him out of his shell. Let's just hope they find a less painful way to kickstart their relationship."

"Funny you mention that…" She hadn't even told him about what Neville had gone through today, and how they already had worked up to a teacher-student relationship between them. "But playing matchmaker is a lot more fun than I'd thought." She admitted with a smirk.

"Wanna make a bet?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"Another?"

"A real one this time."

"Fine, Mr Potter. Whoever's closest to when they start dating wins?"

"...Agreed, Miss Greengrass. I'll say six— no… eight months before they start."

"I'll give them four months," stated Daphne confidently.

"You're optimistic."

"You're not?"

"I'd say eight months is plenty optimistic, Daph. You really think Tracey or Neville's going to move into a relationship that fast?"

"Oh, you just don't know Tracey as well as I do. You might not even recognise Neville in a month or two either."

"That sounds concerning… but I trust the both of you not to get him killed. So…" Harry paused to think for a moment, "The winner gets to enjoy a delightful date planned by the loser?"

"Deal." Hands shook under the table. "I'll just let you know ahead of time that I'm starting to enjoy art. Perhaps you can start from there when you're planning our date."

"Ho… Confident, are we?"

"Very."

After all, with stakes like those, how could either of them actually lose?

Daphne released the spell while the food was slowly lowered onto the table. She gently plucked a mug out of the air and raised it high above the rest of her peers.

"To Neville Longbottom," she declared, officially cementing Neville's induction. "For joining the esteemed ranks of our surreptitious little group!" Neville was beaming ear to ear at the declaration, unaware of just how radically his life had started to change after accepting Daphne's invitation this morning.

Harry immediately followed up after her. "And to an unlikely bond between Lions and Snakes!"

The remaining three followed suit, each raising their mugs, loudly cheering and whooping along with the two students who had united their houses together. Swigs and sips were taken, and as Neville lowered his mug from his mouth, he wondered aloud to the rest.

"Lions and snakes…? Hmmm… We're like a Chimaera!"

Tracey slammed her mug onto the table, rattling the cutlery. "Oh! That'd be a great name for this mishmash of a group! The Chimaeras!"

"I think it's very clever."

"I like it!"

"Not one bit bad."

"Brilliant work, Nevs!"

Neville smiled nervously at the praise being showered upon him.

"It sounds like we're all in agreement then. But to make it official…" Daphne sat a little straighter before glancing around the table at the others, "Motion to officially name ourselves as 'The Chimaeras'. All in favour, say 'aye'."

"Aye," all of them repeated after Daphne.

"Then, henceforth, we shall be known as such!" Daphne confirmed with a curt nod before loosening up again. "Speaking of names, we ought to call this place something other than 'The' classroom. Any ideas?" Daphne sipped at her mug and returned to leaning against Harry, who was quick to throw his suggestion into the ring.

"How about…" He made a grand, sweeping gesture out across the air, picturing imaginary letters following the wave of his hand. "The HDHTN Hideout?"

There was a long, painful pause as the rest waited for more. It was broken only by Tracey's awkward coughs.

Neville finally spoke up. "Is... Is that supposed to be all of our names put together?"

Harry nodded with a smug look on his face, perhaps a bit too proud for such a lacklustre contribution.

"Do we just keep adding more letters if people join us?" Hermione asked, already started to carve up the braised carrot on her plate.

"...Yes?" came the uncertain response.

"Horrendous," Tracey shook her head in response before she raised her arm up like Daphne had done earlier. "Motion to ban Harry from naming this place—"

"Wha—?! Hey!"

"—All in favour, say 'aye'."

"Aye." Tracey, Hermione, and even Neville, jokingly agreed in unison. Only Daphne abstained, choosing to remain silent.

"Awww…" Harry pretended to pout before looking down at his girlfriend for support, "Daph? You like the name, right?"

She gave him a wry smirk before casting her vote too.

"...Aye!"

Harry's jaw dropped, and he gasped, offended at his girlfriend's blatant betrayal.

"Motion carried."

"Et tu, Daphne (Even you, Daphne)?!"

"Wait, no! No! I'll take it back!" She shrieked as Harry began tickling her. Her drink sloshed in her cup as she laughed uncontrollably from his surprise attack, "Hahaha! No! Stop! I—I take it back!"

Hermione and Tracey watched on for a few moments, clearly entertained at the sight. On the other hand, Neville was a little surprised to see Daphne act so much differently than he was used to. Hearing her laugh without any reservations was something he never thought he'd ever hear during his time in Hogwarts, but he supposed this was going to be the norm from now onwards and did his best to get used to this new side of her.

While the two lovers were busy on the other side of the table, the other three eventually returned to the discussion at hand and continued brainstorming while they ate.

"How about the Den?" Neville suggested as he chomped on a pork sausage. Given its decrepit, dusty state, the room did indeed look like a den, and it also fit the motif of a home for both snakes and lions.

"Not bad…" said Tracey after a moment of consideration, swishing a piece of broccoli around on the end of her fork. "But it hasn't got that 'flair' to it."

"...How about the Chimaera's Clubhouse?" proposed Hermione, combining Neville's earlier contribution with her own.

"Ooh, the Clubhouse? That's perfect!" Harry piped up after he finished his tickle assault on Daphne, his arm now wrapped around Daphne's waist. Daphne nodded along after clearing her throat, having taken a moment to collect herself after all that laughing.

Neville nodded in support. "I think so too!"

"Though it doesn't seem like much of one right now, does it?" Hermione crinkled her nose at the drab surroundings.

"Not right now," agreed Daphne, "But I'm sure we could manage with some… minor redecorating in time. For now, let's just focus on lunch, shall we?"

As they ate, Tracey quickly revived the subject of Hermione and Viktor once more. She began eagerly suggesting hypothetical dates and asking the red-faced Gryffindor's opinion, much to her dismay. Despite her chagrin, Hermione still entertained Tracey's questions good-naturedly. Daphne joined in occasionally, offering her thoughts to Hermione, but her attention was mostly focused on coming up with ideas on how to push Neville and Tracey together more…

She had a bet to win after all.

Feeling a little unqualified to suggest anything related to the topic at hand, Neville spent the rest of his time eating his meal quietly whilst enjoying the company of his newfound family. Try as he might, he couldn't stop his eyes from occasionally darting between his plate and the chatty Slytherin on the other end of the bench. Thankfully, she was a little too preoccupied with eating and talking to have noticed.

Meanwhile, a gentle warmth had crept into Harry's chest as he pictured the Chimaeras spending the next few years of their lives getting into trouble across the school and living from moment to moment. More importantly, he wanted to cherish the few years they had left together before they had to go their separate ways, departing out to the world beyond the walls of the school.

Hopefully, if all went well, Daphne would still be by his side — every step of the way. There was not a chance he was going to let go of her, no matter the circumstances.

As he watched his friends, an image from the distant past formed in his mind. It was of four boys their age, seated together much like they were now, establishing the formation of their own little club of misfits.

He wondered what James Potter would've said had he witnessed his son today. If his father's personality was anything to go by from what Sirius had told him, then hopefully he would have been proud of him and everything he'd accomplished thus far. Why, he was certain his dad would've been quite pleased that he found a gal as brilliant and beautiful as his mother — and with much greater success too.

Speaking of the Marauders, he'd have to write yet another letter to Sirius. He'd love to tell his Godfather all about their group too. As a Gryffindor with ties to Slytherin, he'd surely fit right in as an honorary member of the Chimaeras. Perhaps he'd pen a letter to Professor Lupin too — wherever in the world the man was.

Even if fate had dealt a horrid hand for the Marauders, Harry promised that there'd be a better ending in store for him and his friends.

No fucking Dark Lord was going to rip this family away from him, that much he'd make sure of.

*O*O*O*

Chapter 11: End

*O*O*O*

Important AN:

Hello all, hope you enjoyed this equally long part two.

I don't really have much to say besides I'm planning on starting on the first task for the next chapter. Do expect some more action for the dragon though! I might also be skimming over some details here and there (like the interview, etc)!

Thank you once again to all the reviewers and commenters! I love reading your thoughts on my story, no matter how long or short they are.

And just to clarify to GreengrassRebel, I'm using a mix of both the movie and the book as a reference! So you have my apologies if it ends up being super confusing for people who are committed to the book! I hear your concerns loud and clear though! If anything from the movie pops up, it's likely because I thought it'd be more convenient to write (like the same sex schools of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons).

Less Important AN:

I have no idea if this Chimaera thing I've written for their group is something that's ever been used before, so hopefully I'm not plagiarising from anyone. But considering just how many HP fanfics there have been written, I'm sure it's not a new idea. In any case, I thought it was a clever name for the Gryffindors and Slytherins to have as the next generation of Marauders (not counting the Weasley Twins).

Also, a lot of people misunderstood what I meant in my last chapter! I didn't mean that I was going to scrap/abandon the story, rather I was planning to scrap the entire Daphne and Hermione scene (as well as all corresponding ones) after nearly finishing this second part because it was like 30K words at that point and it felt super bloated with all the extraneous dialogue. So I ended up splitting it into this second part.

Plus, I always worry if everything I write and post is subpar so that definitely didn't help either.

Of course, I see now that a lot of people enjoy reading it and I'm really glad I decided to keep it in. Your reviews and comments have been overwhelming sweet, kind, and generous, and I'm really glad I didn't scrap it!

Hope to see you in the next chapter, which I'll be starting after I post this one!