'Dear Mr. Potter.'

She scratched it out. That was too formal. She needed to come across more friendly

'Hi Harry!'

No, that was even worse. What was she thinking.

'Salutations, Man-Who-Won?'

Daphne sighed. Why was this so hard?

'Because usually you're the one receiving these letters, not writing them.' Her brain condescended her.

"Shut up," Daphne replied out loud.

"I didn't even say anything," Tracey shot back slightly offended. She had been sitting there watching Daphne struggle for the last 30 minutes snickering to herself quietly, but other than that she had been mostly silent.

"I'm sorry Trace," Daphne replied frustratedly. "I just don't know what to write."

"Hmm. How about: Hey Potter, I find you extremely attractive and that 'hard to get' strategy you were using worked wonders, wanna knock boots?"

"Shut up," Daphne muttered once again, and Tracey chuckled.

"Seriously though. You're overthinking this. Just say hi and ask if he's free for dinner. You don't need to add anything extra; he'll get what you're implying."

Daphne considered for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Just short and to the point. No need to overthink it," she said more to herself.

"Exactly, now get going so we can finally get out of here."

Daphne rolled her eyes but sat down again brandishing her quill.

Hey Harry,

Hope you're well! I was reaching out to see if you were possibly free to maybe hangout sometime this week?

All the best,

Daphne Greengrass

She read it over, cringed and decided she just needed to get it over with. She tied the letter to her owl Steve with instructions to wait for a reply and sent him on his way.

As soon as Steve flew off, she began to pace nervously back and forth, and Tracey spoke up. "Come on, let's go distract you so you don't spend the rest of the evening agonizing over this. Merlin, I feel like we're 15 again."

Daphne nodded in agreement. "I can't remember the last time I was this nervous about a response from a guy."

Tracey shook her head. "For me it was fifth year. I sent Neville Longbottom a letter that winter break saying that if he helped with my herbology homework I'd let him cop a feel over my bra."

Daphne looked at her friend horrified. "Did he say yes or no?"

"Neither" She replied, her face taking on a painful expression. "His grandmother replied and said if I ever tried to contact him again, she would stuff me and put me on one of her hats."

Daphne looked at her friend trying to see if she was having her on but decided to just be grateful that she was trying to distract her.

"I would've taken that offer," She replied, and Tracey beamed at her.

"You're too sweet. Let's go get shitfaced now."

And so, they did. They went to a great bar near Diagon Alley and had absolutely too much to drink. They floo'd back to Daphne's flat not long after midnight and immediately Tracey was snoring on her couch while Daphne made her way to her bed.

'What an incredible night,' she thought to herself as she fell asleep.

'What a horrible night,' she thought as she woke up the next morning, her head pounding and her stomach nauseous. She quickly grabbed her wand and summoned a hangover potion, forcing down the thick sludge and trying not to gag.

A few minutes later after her stomach felt more okay, she stood and grabbed a second potion, heading for the couch where Tracey was still asleep drooling. She set it on the table beside her friend along with a glass of water and padded into the kitchen, intent on finding something to scrounge up for breakfast.

Her eyes were still half closed when she noticed Steve on his perch with a letter tied to his leg. Immediately the last vestiges of sleep were banished from her mind, and she scrambled over to Steve, untying the letter from the owl and unfurling the note.

She was greeted by a small, thin, messy script that read:

Daphne,

That sounds lovely. We have a group that plays some 5 on 5 quidditch on Fridays, and if I remember correctly, you were quite the flyer back at Hogwarts. I'd love it if you could come.

Hoping you're well,

Harry.

Daphne read the letter over twice and then without meaning to, spun in a circle while stomping her feet and squealing in a very dignified manner.

He had remembered.

Daphne hadn't been on the quidditch team because of house politics, but she would have easily been one of the best chasers on the team and likely a better seeker than Malfoy had been, and had flown during the occasional five a side or pick-up games that sometimes took place.

She heard Tracey groan from the next room over, likely reacting to her excited stomping, and ran back to the living room where her best friend was sitting up groggily and rubbing her eyes. "I have great news!" she declared excitedly.

"Is it that I didn't actually let that randy half leprechaun sit on my shoulders last night during that last dance, and it was all some fucked up dream caused by my lack of therapy?" her friend asked hopefully, and Daphne frowned.

"No, that one happened. It was why we had to go home, you kept saying he was going to get you rich if you played your cards right."

Tracey closed her eyes tightly. "From now on my cutoff is two drinks."

Daphne nodded her agreement instantly.

"Now that we're done discussing your debauchery from last night, I have great news!" she said again, brandishing the letter in her hand.

Tracey, who had just finished chugging the hangover potion and was grimacing at the taste, brightened immediately. "Oh my god! What did he say?!" she asked excitedly, standing and running over to see the letter for herself.

"We have a date," Daphne replied smugly.

Daphne arrived at a private field that looked to be in the middle of nowhere. She saw no quidditch hoops or other people and for the briefest of seconds her heart sank as she thought about the possibility of Harry sending her off to some random field as a mean joke.

Just as she was about to apparate away a voice pulled her out of her downward spiral. "Hey Daphne, I'm so glad you could make it."

Daphne's breath caught in her throat as her previous thoughts were shoved out of her mind by the ones that were immediately trying to burn this image of Harry Potter into her memory forever.

He wore a green and yellow McKinley number 7 Harpies jersey (which just so happened to be Daphne's favorite player and team), and a pair of leather quidditch pants which made his bum look delectable.

His broom was slung over a shoulder and his hair was tousled by the wind, but the sexiest thing he wore was that easy smile that witch weekly had proclaimed to be the most charming smile as soon as Harry was of legal age, a claim they hadn't rescinded since. The smile made her weak in the knees and Daphne's response sounded something like "Er, duh."

The smile fell as a concerned expression worked its way onto his face. "You alright Daphne?"

She coughed and shook her head. "Sorry, just uh, had something in my throat."

"Do you need some water?"

"No, I'll be okay, thanks," she replied, mentally adding. 'Water doesn't solve this kind of thirst, Harry.'

He looked at her skeptically but seemed to believe her after a moment. He walked towards her and reached his hand out and for the briefest of moments. Daphne's heart fluttered.

"May I?" he asked, and Daphne nodded emphatically.

"You can do whatever you like," she responded earnestly, and Harry smiled.

He reached his hand out and took hold of hers. It was calloused and rough from years of flying on a broom and catching dark wizards and Daphne intertwined her fingers quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. Harry shot her a slightly confused look and an awkward smile.

She smiled up at him sweetly and fluttered her eyelashes.

Harry began to lead her forward as Daphne's heart pounded in her chest. She had no clue what to expect, but suddenly she felt a wave of magic wash over her and a pristine quidditch pitch materialized in front of her, complete with a small set of bleachers.

Harry let go of her hand and Daphne immediately missed the warmth. "Sorry about that," he told her, "The pitch is discoverable by invite only and as an extra precaution I have to physically touch the person to bring them through the wards."

Daphne's heart dropped just slightly. She had assumed he had wanted to hold her hand, not that he was helping her cross wards, but she steadied her resolve. She had all afternoon to win him over after all.

She looked and saw others clad in quidditch jerseys, some discussing with brooms in their hands, and others in the air flying slow laps and tossing a quaffle in the air. Among them she counted three Weasleys, a few of Harry's old teammates from school, and for some reason Carl.

Before Daphne could ask about him Harry was mobbed by two of the Weasleys.

"About time mate," Ron told him with a smile.

"We were beginning to wonder if you got lost," said George.

Harry laughed. "I was waiting for Daphne to get here, had to bring her across the wards."

Rons eyes shot to her distrustfully and Daphne tried for a polite smile which only caused them to narrow further. He looked at Harry and then loudly whispered. "arryhay, esshay ayay slytherinsay."

Daphne was as confused as Harry looked. "What?"

Ron rolled his eyes "Slytherin," he hissed, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"And a healer and nice person, Ron."

Ron looked ready to retort, but George grabbed his brother by the arm. "Sorry about him Ms. Greengrass,"

"Please, Daphne is fine."

"Daphne then. I'm sorry about Ron, he's an idiot."

"Hey!"

Before he could say anything else, George had dragged him off to the bleachers where she could see Hermione and Angelina, their girlfriends, waiting for them. A moment later Hermione smacked Ron on the side of the head while Harry chuckled.

Ron made his way back over to them slowly, Hermione in tow. With his eyes looking at the ground he spoke in a low tone. "I'm sorry for being rude," he intoned.

"And?" Hermione prodded.

"And it's nice to meet you."

"And?"

Ron looked back at her with panic. "You said I just had to say those two things."

"I know, you just deserved to sweat a little bit," Hermione said with a smile before extending her hand. "Hermione, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Daphne held back her laugh. "You too."

After the introductions with everyone else, (it turned out Carl was here because he's a highly rated Keeper that currently plays for Ravenclaw), They shot into the air, the match beginning.

Daphne had been made seeker as it was usually the easiest position to play in pickup and no one else on her side wanted to just fly around lazily waiting for the snitch. She decided her plan would be to tail Harry, if she played her cards right, she should have him seduced by the end of the match.

"Your broomstick is so big," she shouted at him from her own and Harry looked at her, a slightly confused expression on his face.

"This model of Firebolt is actually on the smaller side, nimbler and twitchier with quick turns. Your Cleansweep is actually bigger."

Daphne just barely held back her scream of frustration. "But you handle it so well, I can tell you're soo good with your broomstick," she tried again, this time sending him a suggestive wink.

Harry looked concerned. "Did you get something in your eye? Should I get Hermione?"

"No, I—you know what, never mind." She decided a change in tactics were in order, so she pulled her quidditch jersey up slightly and pushed her bum back, beginning to fly in front of Harry.

She knew from many a wizard and even a few witches that her bum was incredible, if she couldn't get him to realize with her words what her intentions were, then she could do it with her God-given attributes.

She flew directly in front of him, pushing her bum out as far as she could without falling off the bristle end of her broom. After a minute she turned around, expecting to see him eyes glazed over and locked onto her shapely rump, but instead he was on the opposite side of the pitch scanning near the goalposts for the snitch.

This time Daphne couldn't hold back her frustrated scream. 'Alright Potter, time to play dirty.'

She pretended as though she saw the snitch and made a beeline for Harry, at the last moment, she pretended to lose her balance slightly and instead grabbed onto his firm chest. Harry's hands steadied her, and she felt heat course through her body.

"You okay?" he asked her and she smiled.

"Better now."

He smiled, "Good." and then let go of her resuming his flight.

Daphne could feel she was close, she waited a few minutes and tried the same tactic, only this time she overshot her fake slip and found herself careening towards the ground. An unholy scream tore itself from her lungs and just as she was bracing for impact, she was suddenly caught in strong arms.

Harry pulled out of his dive and set her on the grass gently. "Daphne, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Thank you for saving me," she replied, her affection and crush for him only growing.

Harry smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Yeah, of course. I'm glad you're alright."

Daphne smiled. "it's almost like I was the snitch in the end."

Harry held out his hand at her words with a smile. "Actually, I caught it while diving to grab you, but that was a great game. I'm sure you'll get the better of me next time."

'Get the better of him next time.' She thought bitterly, standing up and making her way to the bleachers where everyone was congregating. At this rate she would never get him. He continued to rebuff every one of her advances like they didn't exist. She had literally thrown herself at him and that wasn't enough.

She was getting ready to head out of the wards and apparate home when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Angelina Johnson looking at her knowingly. "Don't feel bad, he's just oblivious."

"Surely no man can be that oblivious. I'm starting to think that maybe he just doesn't like me," Daphne replied morosely, not even bothering to deny the allegations.

"Believe me, I've known Harry since he was 11, teamed with him for five years. I've watched countless women try everything under the sun and all their seductions roll off him like water off a duck."

Daphne considered the words and tried not to allow her hope to grow too much. "Why are you telling me this?"

Angelina smiled. "He's a good guy, I want Harry to find someone, at this point I'd be happy with just about anyone, but you're a healer and you never cared about blood status, and I think you'd be good for him. Also, Harry clearly likes you, otherwise you wouldn't be here." Daphne smiled at the slightly older woman. "My advice is to be direct. If there's any room for misinterpretation or lack of clarity, Harry will find it. Be direct."

"Direct about what?"

Both Angelina and Daphne shrieked, clutching their hands to their chests. "Dammit Carl!" they shouted in unison. "Don't sneak up on us like that."

"Sorry," He replied unapologetically, "Direct about what?"

"How about walking directly in front of people instead of sneaking up behind them?" Daphne shot back and Carl nodded, ambling off to sneak up behind someone else probably.

Daphne considered Angelina's words. Be direct, she could do that.

A/N: I am alive and working on some stuff in the background, this fic is very much in progress, so if you have any ideas about other scenarios where we can have Harry be oblivious, please feel free to share them with me. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :)