Harry & Daphne: An Untold Destiny
Chapter 2: Diagon City
Hogwarts Elite Institute of Sorcery & Technology
Headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin; first class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump; International Confederation of Wizards)
Attention: Daphne Queenie Greengrass
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to attend Hogwarts Elite Institute of Sorcery & Technology. Hogwarts is the premier school for magical education in Avalon and is certified by the International Confederation of Wizards. A Hogwarts education qualifies you for employment in any ICW sanctioned nation.
Enclosed is a list of all required materials and equipment. We expect a response no later than July 31st, 1993. Failure to do so will result in the loss of your enrollment. Term begins September 1st, 1993 The train will depart from Kings Cross in London at precisely 11:00 AM.
Yours Sincerely
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
July 11th, 1993
Daphne was relieved to have finally received her acceptance letter for Hogwarts. While being from a rich and affluent family, her odds were better than most but not guaranteed. The application process involved several aptitude tests as well as a long form essay. Hogwarts only accepted forty new students every year, and only half of those would be women.
Not wanting to waste any time, she quickly wrote a letter with a reply to Hogwarts thanking them for the opportunity and expressing her enthusiasm to attend. Soon as she was done, she ran to her father's office to borrow Highwind, the eurasian eagle owl that delivered all their posts.
Highwind was a prissy bird that liked to preen its feathers before taking flight. He was also very particular about how you handed him your letters. He expected a bow, then made you wait while he finished grooming. The letter also had to be attached using a soft wool string, as the bird found the standard string to be coarse and chaffed it's ankle. It was all very annoying, especially when you were in a hurry.
After having Daphne jump through all the hoops, the pretentious bird took a couple of nips at her fingertips and set off north towards Hogwarts.
Daphne took a few deep breaths to center herself. The anxiousness she had felt for the last couple of weeks as she doubted herself began to subside. Much to her relief, she wouldn't be a complete disappointment to her family.
She pulled the letter from her pocket and read it over one last time. She then moved to the second piece of parchment containing the list of all the things she would require for school.
1 Wand attuned to the Witch or Wizard
5 standard school uniforms
1 special uniform for public events
1 standard set of cauldrons (pewter, clay, silver)
2 pairs of grade 3 or higher protective gloves
1 pair of grade 3 or higher protective boots
1 rune carving set
1 set of arithmancy tools
1 telescope
The following text will also be required:
A Brief History of Avalon by Bathilda Bagshot
Brewing for Beginners by Horace Slughorn
The Anatomy of a Spell by Chandler Boot
Standard Spells Year 1 by Phoebe Luffay
The Foundation of Magical Languages by Monica & Ross Gellert
Standard Arithmancy Year 1 by Joseph Tribini
A Magician's Guide to Gardening by Rachel Greenberg
Foundational Principles to Transfiguration by Ulysses S. Gamp
A Magical World by Yvonne Chavosky
Her father had always preached to her about the value of a galleon, so she couldn't help but whistle at what she expected all this to cost. Even if one were to shop bargains and purchase lower-quality equipment, the costs were still nearing one hundred galleons. It was most likely a ploy by the school to get around the ministry anti-discrimination laws by simply making it too expensive for non-noble families to attend.
Just as she turned to leave her father's office, her parents walked in. Her father was in his business suit, a light gray jacket, and trousers with a blue tie. Her mother was in a summer dress. It was white with bright flowers, and the straps were thin, leaving her shoulders bare. While her mother was quite beautiful, her father always struck her as very plain in comparison. Despite her concerns, her parents seemed to be happy with one another.
"What are you doing in my office, Queenie?"
Her mother let out a tsk, annoyed at her father's use of Daphne's middle name. It was a tad amusing considering it was her mother who insisted on Queenie after her aunt from America, whom she cherished. If her father could ever say no to his wife, Daphne would have been named after her grandmother, Odette. Which would have been a far less embarrassing name.
Daphne held up the parchment in her hand for them to see. "I got my letter from Hogwarts this morning and had to borrow Highwind to send in my reply."
"Oh, that's wonderful, dear." Her mother walked over and wrapped her in a tight hug. She then took a step back, giving Daphne a look over. "You're growing up far too fast for my liking."
Daphne wanted to protest; she felt she wasn't growing fast enough. Daphne felt she was too short for her age and her chest too flat. Even her little sister Astoria was taller and developing faster. It seemed all she got out of puberty so far was horrible cramps three days a month and constant acne outbreaks.
"Speaking of growing up, there is something your mother and I need to discuss with you." At her father's words, her mother turned and scowled at him. "Now's hardly the time for that conversation, Daedric."
"Seraphine, my sweet, there won't ever be a good time for this conversation. It's best we just rip off the bandage as soon as possible."
Her mother's glare deepened for a moment before softening. She nodded her head before they both moved over the desk. Her father sat down in the chair while her mother stood behind him. Knowing the expectation, Daphne sat down in the chair opposite her parents.
Daphne didn't know what to expect the last time her father had sat her down in his office she was being scolded for putting krupp droppings in her sister's porridge. Back then, her parents looked angry and disappointed, but now they looked almost sad. The most awful scenarios began to run through her head, like what if Astoria had a blood-malediction and was dying.
She watched her father shift his jaw like he was chewing over the words carefully. Her mother's nails dug into her father's shoulders as she bit into her lip. The moment seemed to drag on, bubbling in her gut and rising to her throat.
"Your grandfather wrote to me a few nights ago. He made a decision for the family that will significantly affect your life." Her parents took a moment to glance at each other as if bracing themselves for what was about to be said. "He has arranged a marriage on your behalf."
Daphne could feel the blood drain from her face. The feeling that had been rising in her throat turned bile in her mouth. She felt sick, horrified, angry, upset, and confused.
She knew one day a marriage would be arranged for her, but she didn't expect it to be like this. She thought she would have some choice, like a catalogue of boys to peruse and choose from. Maybe a few dates to ensure there was compatibility of some sort. She also thought she had a few years. Normally girls have a debut at a ball when they're sixteen, where they are put into nice dresses and paraded around like cattle up for auction.
Perhaps that was a saving grace that she wouldn't have to put up with all that nonsense. The makeup and dresses would have been fun, but being stuck for hours in a ballroom with a bunch of strangers sounded awful. Though what kind of degenerate pervert would arrange to marry a thirteen-year-old that he's never met?
"Now I understand this feels early, but you won't actually marry until you're both done with schooling. You won't even properly court each other until you're sixteen. We're only telling you this now so you can get used to the idea. Perhaps you can even be friends with the boy while you're at school together." Her mother tried to explain.
It was a bit of a relief that she wasn't going to be a child bride, though Daphne certainly wasn't happy about the news. Upon hearing that he would be a student, she was filled with new worries. What if he was a prat? Or boring? Or even a Hufflepuff? What if he had expectations of her while they were at school? She certainly didn't see herself as the snogging type, but what if that was all he wanted to do? None of this was what she wanted to be thinking about today.
"Why?" Was all she could manage. Perhaps it was silly, and the answer was most likely because grandfather thought it was best for the family, but she needed to know.
It was her father who answered. "Your grandparents were concerned by your behavior. Your tendency to shy away at parties, the way you dress yourself, your interests. They worried that your value as a bride would go down when the wider public got a look at you."
Daphne didn't know why she was so hurt by those words. Her grandmother was always very open with her disdain, just as her grandfather was with his disappointment. Perhaps it just had never been said so bluntly before. It was devastating that her family felt that if anyone got to know her, there would be no way they would want to marry her.
"That's not how your mother and I feel, Daphne. I even sent them a howler after receiving the letter. You're a beautiful girl, and anyone who got to know you would know you have a wonderful heart. I have no doubt in my mind you would have had no trouble finding suitors when the time came."
Daphne nodded. His words were nice, but it was bruise balm on an amputated limb. She was definitely going to have a good cry later, but she would remain stoic for now. Perhaps maintain some dignity.
"However, it's actually a very favourable arrangement for you. The boy is heir to the viscount of Tutshill, so you'll be a viscountess one day." Her mother gently slapped her father's shoulder. "Also, the Potter's are good people. I do business with the boy's father. He's a good man, very dedicated to his wife. Apparently they even run the company together."
Daphne was somewhat aware of the Potter family. They were famous for their potions, inventing both skele-gro and pepperup, but it was the beauty potions that got them their wealth. Daphne herself used the Potter Perfect skin cream religiously to combat her acne. Though that still didn't make her feel thrilled about becoming a Potter.
"What's his name?"
Her father blinked at her, seemingly surprised by the question. The first name never really mattered in these arrangements. "It's, uh, Harry, I believe."
Her husband's name would be Harry. It was such a strange thought. She didn't think she had ever met a Harry before. It certainly wasn't a common name in the magical world. What does a Harry even look like? Would he in fact be hairy? The thought made her giggle out loud as she pictured herself walking down the aisle to where a sasquatch in dress robes would be waiting for her.
Her parents stared at her as she burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. It was one of those scenarios where she couldn't stop herself. The more she laughed, the funnier it got to the point where she was mostly laughing because she couldn't stop laughing. Her eyes were watering, her ribs ached something fierce, and her laughter was coming out as mostly wheezing sobs after a while.
Eventually, after several failed attempts, she got herself back under control. Through red, watery eyes, she looks back at her parents, who are looking completely flabbergasted. Perhaps also with a smidgen of concern that she had completely lost her mind.
"Daphne dear, may I ask what it was precisely you found so amusing?"
She had to take a deep breath to stop herself from having another fit. "I was just wondering if Harry was, in fact, hairy." She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, though she could feel her face struggling to hold back a grin.
Her father chuckled loudly. Her mother smiled but closed her eyes as she gently shook her head. The grin inevitably broke out on Daphne's face, feeling slightly vindicated upon hearing her father's laughter.
"Did you two know each other at school?" Daphne had never thought to ask her parents about their relationship before.
Her parents looked at each other for a moment before coming to an agreement telepathically. "Thankfully, we did not. Your mother was a first year during my last year at Hogwarts, and we weren't in the same house."
"I was twenty one and your father twenty eight when our parents made an agreement. I had finished school and then spent nearly two years in America with my aunt Queenie. I wasn't particularly thrilled about being married off to your father to tell you the truth. Though I returned home and did what was asked without complaint."
Daphne was completely shocked by her mother's words. She had never questioned her parents devotion to one another; they were in love; she was certain of it. If not, her whole foundation of what love was would crumble.
"I was completely smitten with your mum the moment I laid eyes on her. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, and just a little bit snobby, but like in a good way. I was over the moon that she was going to be my wife." Her mother smiled at her father's words.
These were the parents Daphne knew.
Until her mother started talking again.
"Your father was pretty much the last thing I ever imagined for myself. I remembered him from school. He was this swotty Ravenclaw prefect who gave me a few point deductions for talking loudly in the library. When I saw him again, not much had changed in my opinion. I found him to be pretentious and boring." Her mother was very sombre as she spoke, staring down at the floor.
Her father interrupted to add more context.
"The wedding happened fast. Only six weeks after our first official meeting. The beginning of our marriage was rough. I knew she didn't feel the same as I did. In her defence, I was older and ready to settle down where she was still finding herself. So I decided to just try and be a friend to her and not a husband."
Her mother took a deep breath; she looked ashamed.
"Your father has always been a very sweet man. He was more patient with me than I deserved. I was resentful for a time and quite cruel. I acted in a way that I feel ashamed of to this day. I kissed another man while married to your father and did it strictly to cause him pain. However he didn't get angry with me, but instead he punched the bloke, knocking him out cold, and told me calmly that he'd see me back at home."
There was a long pause to let the omission sink in.
"When I got back, he was at the table with a cup of tea ready for me. He told me that he didn't expect my love nor my affection, but he demanded my respect. He said if I could be discreet and careful, he would look the other way, but if I did, I should know that I deserved better than some awful braggart."
A soft smile broke on her mother's face like the sun peeking out from a storm cloud.
"That was the first time I saw who your father actually was. He was a good man. A few days after that night, I finally started trying to act like I was married. It was scary how easy it was to be married to your father. I realized a few weeks later that I was happy, and not much longer after that I realized that I loved your father."
After everything was said, her parents smiled at one another before sharing a tender kiss.
Daphne wasn't sure what to feel. It was a lot to take in. Probably too much to take in. She wasn't sure she could look at her parents the same again. Perhaps it was something she needed to hear. Perhaps it was meant to give her hope that she could find what they have if she tried.
What she knew for certain was that it was future Daphne's problem. She was going to put it all out of her mind, and when she got to school, she would avoid Harry Potter at all costs. If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to deal with him until she graduated. Hogwarts, after all, was a very large school, so it shouldn't be too hard.
August 1st, 1993
Harry always thought the idea of a birthday party was weird. Getting older wasn't something he could control, so it wasn't really an accomplishment. Certainly not one that was worth celebrating anyway.
They did not celebrate his bowel movements. At least not since he was first potty trained. Nor did they celebrate when his hair grew. If anything, his mother hated when his hair grew, as she would always insist on him getting a haircut. Yet for some reason, birthdays always had to be a spectacle.
He had told his parents once when he was nine years old that he didn't want to have a party. They didn't take his admission well. There were tears, arguments, hush conversations, and a tremendous amount of worry. After a few weeks, he just told them he had changed his mind and he wanted a birthday party.
The result of the whole debacle was catastrophic over compensation on his parents' part. His party was combined with Neville Longbottom's and turned into a huge Lammas festival. They would alternate between Tutshill and Falmouth every year. Hundreds of people would attend, and Harry would have to be polite and cordial with them while pretending he was thrilled by it all.
Thankfully, this year the Longbottom's were hosting down in Falmouth. The attention would be on Neville as opposed to Harry, and he could just slink off into the background. As long as he was around when they sliced the birthday sweet bread, no one would notice.
Though it also meant there would be more children his own age there. He was homeschooled by his Aunt Dorea and only left the house to attend meetings with his Uncle Charlus so he wasn't comfortable with others his age. Neville, however, enjoyed the company of his peers and had quite a few friends.
Harry wasn't sure if he and Neville were friends. Their mothers were friends, so they had to spend a considerable amount of time together. Since they were both small children, they were quite different. Neville was nice, liked to garden, and was very chatty. Harry didn't really like to talk, nor was he interested in plants. Though if Neville wasn't his friend, Harry probably didn't have any. Not that he really minded.
He stood waiting around by the entrance in his dress clothes, a head full of sleekezy's taming his wild hair. His parents and siblings had left earlier in the morning to help the Longbottom's prepare. Harry was expected to join them shortly with his aunt and uncle. He didn't like to be late, so he was already dressed, groomed, and ready to go twenty minutes before what was expected.
Once Dorea and Charlus were ready, they all floo'd to Pendennis Castle. The large fort was built on a cliff looking out at the Atlantic Ocean. The circle shape and stacked levels made the main building look a bit like a stone wedding cake. It had been built to defend against siege by both land and sea. The grounds between the battlement and the walls were landscaped into a beautiful garden of roses.
They made their way out of the castle to a large stone walkway that led from the castle to the manor grounds. The manor itself was about the same size as Stinchombe Hall, two stories and three wings. Next to it was an armoury and several greenhouses. Between these two main structures on either side of the stone path, booths and tents had been set up for the festivities.
A large mass about half the size of his body struck him on his left side, nearly knocking him over. Tiny arms attempted to wrap themselves around his waist. Harry looked down to see it was little sister Orchid, was the one who had decided to assault him with a hug.
He gently tussled her hair with his fingers, and she looked up at him with a scowl. "Don't mess up my hair, Harry. It took mum ages."
Harry chuckled. Even his sister wasn't saved from the curse that was Potter hair. "Where are mum and dad?"
Orchid grabbed his hand, leading him through the tents as she pulled on his arm Dorea and Charlus followed behind them. Harry was brought to a gathering of a dozen or so people. Chief among them were his parents and brother. Next to them were the Longbottom's Augusta, Alice, and Neville. Neville's father, Frank, had been killed during the Black Saturday death eater attacks.
"Oh, there's the other birthday boy!." Alice squealed as she hurried over to Harry, wrapping him up in a tight hug. Neville's mum seemed to think it wasn't a hug unless you were bruising a few ribs. "You're getting so big, Harry, just like my little Nev'. In a month, you'll both be Hogwarts getting into trouble. Make sure to take care of each other, alright?"
Harry forced a smile. It was always a bit awkward with Neville's mum. She had wanted to have more children before her husband had been murdered. Now, to make up for the loss, she desperately wanted him and Neville to form a sibling-like bond with one another. Harry doubted anything like that would ever truly happen, but he placated her anyway. "Of course Aunty Alice."
She returned the smile before finally letting him go. From there, everything went by fairly quickly. Guests started to arrive, and the festivities began. Harry did his best to be seen but not noticed. Always slightly off to the side of any gathering.
Lammas was above all a sacred day to many in the wizarding world. It was a celebration of the first harvest of the year and dedicated to the pillar of knowledge. Fresh breads would be baked in the early morning to be enjoyed with a late lunch feast. As the sun began to set, they would light small bonfires, and groups would gather around them to share stories.
One tradition that Harry liked was to write all the things you wished to forget onto a piece of parchment before throwing it into the bonfire. The idea was to clear your mind to make room for new knowledge. Harry always wrote down the same thing every year in hopes he could forget that night, but the memories did not fade.
The booths at the festival had games and contents mostly to entertain all the children. In a few of the tents tables were set up so people could sell homemade wares. Harry spent most of his time in a tent filled with books all lined up on tables. He had managed to find an old copy of Hogwarts A History that he was hoping to read before the start of school.
When the sun finally set, most of the guests returned to their homes. Only the Potter's, Longbottom's, and a few of Neville's closest friends remained. They all sat around the last remaining bonfire, eating birthday cake and sweet bread. Harry sat between his mother and sister, trying not to bring any attention to himself.
He watched through the flames as Nevilled laughed with his friends. Harry had seen them all before at past parties. Susan was a precocious redhead; her family was royalty in Ireland, and her aunt ran the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the ministry. Ernie was Scottish and a bit of a pillock, but his grandfather was the Earl of Wigtown. Hannah was chatterbox but normally kind; her family governed over Godric's Hollow, and she and Harry used to have playdates together as toddlers.
"Time for gifts!" Alice shouted as Harry finished swallowing his last piece of bread. Presents were always his least favourite part. It felt like a performance, with everyone watching his every reaction. He couldn't help but feel anxious that people would notice his act.
It was a relief that the bulk of the attention was on Neville, who's reactions all seemed natural and genuine as he laughed and joked after each gift. Harry, for his part, could only manage a pleased smile and a gracious thank you. Luckily, no one other than Harry seemed to notice the contrast between them.
Most of the gifts were clothes, books, or sweets. That was until his father gave him what appeared to be a thick branch from a tree. Harry was more confused than disappointed; he wasn't sure if this was one of his father's pranks or not.
"It's Elder wood from the branch of our ancestor tree. It fell from the tree on your naming day, so we saved it. If you take it to Ollivanders, he might be able to use it to make a custom wand for you." His father explained.
"Now obviously wandlore is finicky, so it may not be possible as the wand chooses the wizard, but a branch falling on a naming is normally fate and meant to be a strong omen."
Harry held the stick tightly, trying to sense if it was anything more than an innate piece of wood, but felt nothing. He had never looked into wandlore and always just assumed the differences between wands were miniscule. He would have to research it thoroughly when he got a chance, hopefully before they visited Ollivanders. Harry thanked his father and set the wood down carefully.
His last gift was from his Uncle Charlus. At first glance, it appeared to be a stack of parchments.
Upon closer inspection, it was some kind of agreement between their family and another family of prominence. It used strangely intimate language for a business contract with talk of merging the two families. When he got to the context of the agreement, he could help but be even more confused.
"You got me a wife for my birthday?"
Instantly, chaos broke out amongst the Potter's. He had never seen his father so mad as he started yelling at Uncle Charlus. His mother grabbed the papers from his hands and started reading through them, her face getting redder as she read it. His siblings looked terrified as the Longbottom's and guests were staring in shock.
"He's thirteen I thought we agreed to wait until he was finished schooling." His father was doing his best to hold back his anger as he spoke.
"I agreed to consider it but decided this was the best decision for the family." Uncle Charlus's tone was firm. The look he gave Harry's father meant it was the end of the discussion.
However, his mother disagreed vehemently as she started her rant.
"This is lunacy. My son should be allowed to find someone on his own, fall in love, and then get married. We don't even know if he has any interest in women, for heaven's sake. This backwards shit is why I didn't want anything to do with this pureblood nobility nonsense."
"Enough. I understand this isn't ideal, but you're acting like the boy is being sent to the gallows. The wedding won't be for years yet, and they will have this time to become comfortable with each other."
His parents looked ready to continue protesting, but he decided to interfere. "I'm fine with it. Honestly, we all know I have trouble connecting with people, so this is a relief. I won't have to worry about witches and can just focus on my studies while at school."
The mood shifted instantly at his words. No longer was there tense anger; it had all been replaced with what Harry could only assume was pity. Even Uncle Charlus seemed to be saddened by Harry's words. His parents had tears in their eyes while his siblings just seemed confused. Across the fire, Hannah Abbot had the look like a puppy had just died.
The party ended shortly after that. They said their thanks and bid goodbye before flooring back home. His Aunt and Uncle quickly ran off to their wing of the house while the rest of them headed towards their rooms. Harry was quick to flee from the uncomfortableness.
He ran to his suite and quickly showed the smell of smoke from his skin. Along with the dirt and grime, he let the stress of the day wash off of him. Once again, it was clear he had said the wrong thing and upset everyone. It was frustrating; he had just wanted so desperately to say the right thing. Now he was left with a tightness in his chest that wouldn't go away.
Harry finished his shower and dressed in his night clothes. He returned to his bedroom, hoping to just sleep away these feelings. However, his mother was sitting on his bed waiting for him when he entered. He froze a moment before shaking it off and sat down next to his mother.
"I'm sorry about all the yelling earlier; I know it upsets you."
He nodded. "It's fine. I understand it wasn't what you wanted for me."
She shook her head. "No, Harry." She stopped herself. "The only thing your father and I want is for our children to be happy."
He bit his lip. "I am happy, mum."
She gave him a sad look; clearly she did not believe him. She gently placed her hand over his own and looked him in the eyes. It was almost like staring into his own eyes; they were so similar. Part of Harry hoped that meant she could understand what he was feeling. Gently, she kissed his cheek and whispered. "I hope that's true."
August 11th, 1993
Daphne wore black tights underneath a pink flared skirt. She had on a loose-fitting white gypsy-style blouse exposing her collarbone. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun. She slid her feet into her black slip-on shoes. Before leaving her room, she grabbed her green canvas bag, completely covered in buttons from her favourite comics that she used as a purse.
As she got to the floo, her mother and sister were waiting. They both were wearing matching a-line dresses, wedged heels, and little black clutches that were magically expanded on the inside. Daphne, as she looked at them, couldn't help but wish she had the legs to pull off a dress like that.
Her mother rolled her eyes when she noticed Daphne's bag. "Do you have to take that napsack with you?"
"Yes." There was no point in trying to explain herself to her mother. Daphne couldn't exactly explain why she liked the things that she liked; she just liked them. Every time she did try to explain, it became an argument about how her reasoning didn't even make grammatical sense, never mind logical sense.
"No arguing on shopping days, you two." Astoria injected before their mother could respond.
"Sorry Astoria. I will remember to honour the sanctity of shopping day from now on."
Their mother let out an exasperated sigh. "Very well, let us begin this holiest of pilgrimages then." The girls all snickered; it was hard not to be in a good mood on shopping day.
Daphne went first, grabbing a pinch of floor powder before tossing it in and stepping into the emerald flames. She made sure to speak loud and clear, "Diagon City!". Everything began to spin, she watched as a series of rooms were rapidly flashing before eyes before settling on a cavernous marble antichamber. She stepped out of the fireplace and cleared space for her mother and sister.
They arrived in the Gringotts floo chamber, which was only available to important families. It was the dignified way to travel to Diagon City's shopping district. Other's would have to floo to the tavern at the far end of the street that connected to muggle London. Of course those who lived in the city would walk or take a carriage to Diagon Alley.
As soon as her mother arrived, they all dusted off the soot and then headed to the tellers so they could get a cart to their vaults. Daphne and Astoria kept a quick step behind their hurried mother, who was uncomfortable around goblins.
Goblins all looked like short, stocky old men with no hair and big, protruding ears. Their attitudes were also similar, as they all seemed to be crotchety and irritable. They also had weirdly long fingers that creeped Daphne out.
After a short conversation with a teller, they were led to a railcar. The conductor was a particularly rude goblin named Griphook, who seemed to take pleasure in driving the cart at absurd speeds. Thankfully, they arrived at the first vault before anyone got sick. .
Her mother passed her two keys. "The first is your trust vault set up by your father and I. It's meant for frivolous things like Hogsmeade trips or emergencies. The second is for your bridal vault set up by the Potters. They insisted you have access early, so you know they intend to provide for you."
Daphne felt gross taking the second key. She didn't like the idea of receiving money for marrying someone, or in her case, the promise of marrying someone. She had done well the last couple weeks to forget about the agreement just to have it shoved in front of her face. She quickly buried the key in her messenger bag with no intention of ever using the horrible thing.
She grabbed a sack of galleons from her trust vault in case she wanted to get something for herself. They then carried on deeper into the mines beneath the bank until they arrived at her parents' vaults, where her mother took out a large sum of coins in order to pay for all Daphne's supplies. Even deeper down was the Greengrass family vault, filled with piles of coins, jewellery, armour, and artwork collected over the centuries. Only her grandfather and uncle had access to that vault, though.
When they finally left the bank, the sun was blinding, as it glared straight down on them. It took them a few minutes to adjust to the brightness as well as the heat. The mines of Gringotts were as cold as they were dark.
Diagon Alley was an old cobblestone road lined with shops. It was the oldest shopping district in Avalon, having been first built during the Roman conquest of England. Its proximity to Gringotts kept it relevant, but it was mostly a tourist spot. Packed during the summer months, particularly August, when new supplies were needed for school.
Daphne made a beeline straight for Ollivanders. She had waited months to finally have a wand of her own and had no intention of waiting any longer. The shop was old, dusty, and slightly claustrophobic, filled almost entirely with boxes of wands from floor to ceiling. When Astoria and her mother joined her a minute later, the shop felt even smaller.
Behind a tall counter stood an older wizard. His back seemed to be permanently hunched forward, likely from years of leaning over a table working on his craft. He was dressed in a well-worn suit with a vest but no tie, and his hair reminded her a bit of a dressed-up poodle.
"Good morning ladies, Garick Ollivander at your service. I presume the eager young woman is here for her first wand." He pointed his long, calloused finger towards Daphne, who did her best not to cringe.
Her mother answered. "Yes, my darling Daphne is set to start at Hogwarts this fall and is very excited to find herself a wand."
"Well, I am delighted to assist your daughter in the endeavour." Mr. Ollivander jumped out from behind the counter and started measuring Daphne's arm.
Daphne scrunched her nose. The man had a smell of wood polish and cough drops. She felt very odd as she was measured, prodded, and inspected by the shopkeeper like some kind of show dog.
When he was finished, he started running around his shop grabbing a dozen or so boxes. He opened the first one and passed her a short maple wand. "Try this."
She carefully took the wand in her hand. It felt more like a chopstick than a wand. She gave it a quick flick, but nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander was studying her closely as she clumsily waved the wand like a conductor's baton. The whole thing made her feel quite silly.
Eventually Mr. Ollivander pulled out a small notepad and made some notes. He then took the wand from her before handing her another wand to try.
This one was much longer and made of holly; it was a tad springy. Her magic responded slightly to it, but it felt odd. When she gave it a flick, one of the lamps on the wall exploded, causing all three women in the shop to shriek.
Mr. Ollivander smiled. "Oh, you are going to be a fun one, miss Greengrass." He scribbled some more notes before taking back the holly wand.
For the next twenty-five minutes she was handed wand after wand to varying results, most of which seemed to cause damage to the small shop. The wandmaker seemed to get more excited the more disastrous the results were. When an entire wall of wands exploded off their shelves, the man was almost dancing with giddiness.
It was the twenty-eightth failed attempt when Mr. Ollivanders' expression changed. He seemed to be puzzled as he carefully thought over something in his head. "Miss Greengrass, when precisely were you born?"
Daphne was a little thrown off by the sudden question. Her mother stepped in when Daphne failed to answer. "She was born a little after sunset, the first of May, nineteen-eighty."
The grin returned to the wandmaker's face. "Beltane?" He asked excitedly. His mother replied with a curt nod, which caused the man to give a loud celebratory clap.
"Oh, you are a very special witch, young Miss Greengrass. You were born on a sacred day, which means fate has plans for you. Plans that would require you a special wand."
Mr. Ollivander ran behind the counter and through the door to a backroom. He was gone for about five minutes, returning with a singular box with him.
"Many years ago, in my youth, I travelled the world in search of treasures to craft my wands. My journeys brought me north across the sea to the home of your ancestors. There I met who I thought was a beautiful witch named Elka. We travelled together for a period of time, enjoying each other's company. Young and naive I was that I believed I was in love with Elka, and perhaps in a way I was at the time."
"On our journeys, she took me to a forest that was buried in the earth beneath a volcano. Magic there was pure and untainted by wizards. Though it was wonderful, I could not help but feel I did not belong there. When I relayed my feelings to Elka, she smiled at me and told me that her mother had made an exception and would like to meet me."
"So I agreed to meet Elka's mother. I was brought to the centre of the woods, where a single tree grew and from its branches hung apples of gold. A beautiful maiden stood at the foot of the tree who Elka introduced as her mother, Idun. I knew not at that moment, but the maiden was considered a goddess and worshipped by the people of those lands."
"I was given three boons by Idun. A branch that had fallen from her tree, one golden apple, and two strands of hair from her daughter's tail. It turned out that Elka was a huldra and not a witch, as I had thought. She turned away from me and removed her robes, revealing the hollow wood of her back and a fox's tail."
"When I returned home from my journey, that very first wand I crafted I used the wood from Idun's tree, a hair from Elka's tail, and a piece of antler from a peryton that once carried me to safety. I've held on to that wand all this time but believe it was made for you, Miss Greengrass."
Daphne took the beautiful wand carefully. She wasn't sure if anything Mr. Ollvander said was true or just some fanciful story he concocted on a whim. Either way, she treated the creation with reverence. The second she had seen it, she felt her magic calling to it like it belonged to her. Like it was a part of her.
The moment she grasped it in her hands, she knew. It was like the universe completing itself. A warm light seemed to incase her as her hair stood on end. For several seconds, it was as though the world had slipped away and nothing else existed except for her and the wand.
Daphne was returned to reality by the sound of applause. Mr. Ollivander was clapping ecstatically with a ginormous grin on his face. "Oh, wonderful, just wonderful. A perfect match."
Harry stumbled out of the floo and into the side room of the Leaky Cauldron. The room itself was mostly empty, just three large fireplaces for floo travel. Its purpose was to ensure muggles didn't see anyone entering the bar by magical means. At the far side was a brick wall that was the hidden entrance into Diagon City.
There was an auror posted by the door, ensuring no one suspicious slipped into the magical city. Harry imagined they were also trained in obliviation in case a muggle stumbled into the room and saw something they weren't meant to see.
Orchid stumbled out next wearing a pink dress covered appropriately in red orchids. His mother followed in a similar dress but decorated in white lilies. Shortly after, Monty and their father stumbled out together laughing in matching plain white tees and khaki shorts. His mother was instantly scolding the two of them for being so reckless. "You morons, you're lucky you didn't come out the floo as conjoined twins or one giant head with eight legs."
"Would you love us any less if we did?" His father wiggled his eyebrows and winked.
His mother responded with an irritated sigh. "I don't know why I ever thought you'd grow out of it."
"You're an optimist, Lil's; it's what I love most about you." His father gave her cheeky grin. His mother shook her head before pulling out her wand and tapping a sequence of bricks on the wall.
The bricks rolled to the sides, opening up a narrow alleyway. His father led the way with Harry trailing at the back. They passed under a stone archway as they entered the main alley. Diagon Alley was a cobblestone road a little over a mile long filled with shops. At the far end was Gringotts Bank and the street leading to Diagon City proper.
Nearly 12,000 people lived in Diagon City, making it the largest population of magical people in all of Avalon. It was governed by Regulus Black, the Duke of London, who was the younger brother of Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Within the confines of the city were twenty-six apartments, over one hundred houses, St. Mungos Hospital, and the Ministry of Magic.
It was rare to see any actual citizens of the city in Diagon Alley besides the shop owners. Most of the residents shopped at Carkett Market on the far side of the city, which had stalls of fresh foods and a larger variety of goods. Diagon Alley catered to young wizards for school shopping and tourists. The primary reason was that it housed the nation's largest bookstore as well as its only licensed wand maker.
The Potter's started at Tulliver's Trunks & Enchanted Luggage. Lemuel Tulliver was a genius carpenter and master of expansion charms; his products were second to none. It was perfectly normal for wizards and witches to live completely inside a Tulliver suitcase or trunk, as they could easily fit entire homes. Tulliver even invented the famous suitcase that Newt Scamander carried with him that housed an entire sanctuary for magical animals that was nearly a hundred acres in size.
Unfortunately, after an incident involving a student tripping into a trunk and falling a hundred feet to their death, Hogwarts placed strict restrictions on what was allowed regarding expansion charms. Harry was forced to settle for a trunk with switchable compartments where the dimensions of the trunk always stayed the same but essentially housed ten trunks inside of one. A dial on the lid when closed allows you to navigate your trunks.
Eager to fill his trunk, they headed to Flourish & Blotts bookshop. Harry quickly found all the required texts without any trouble. He then spent another hour picking out texts that would give him a deeper understanding of his lessons as well as a few others that sounded interesting. He intended to keep looking, but Orchid, Monty, and his father were about to revolt.
They made it to Ollivander's wand shop shortly after. The building itself predated both the alley and the rest of Diagon City by hundreds of years. The Ollivander family were the first to bring wands to Britain and the rest of Avalon more than two thousand years ago.
Over the centuries, the family had passed their knowledge of wandcraft down from father to son, generation to generation. The eldest member of the family always watched over the shop while the others crafted wands and furthered their understanding of the craft. For the most part, though, the family was an enigma. Most of what Harry knew was speculation.
The bell above the door rang when they entered the shop. Every wall was covered with shelves from floor to ceiling. The shelves themselves were filled with thousands of long, thin boxes. In front of the wall that was facing the door was a tall counter, and behind it was a door.
A man walked out from behind the door and stood at the counter. He had large, curly white hair, and his eyebrows were mostly singed off. A pair of reading books hung on a chain around his neck. There was oddness to the man's eyes that were almost completely black except a faint trace of gold around the iris.
"Hello, Potter family, I have been looking forward to your visit for quite some time."
"I can feel the wood you carry with you, young Potter. The magic of the tree calls to me; it longs to be born anew. I always knew this day would come, but I did not know what day it would be until today."
"What is today?"
"Today is the day I craft my last wand. It seems almost serendipitous that the young lady who came in just before you would receive the very first wand ever crafted by my hand. Fate has such wonderful symmetry, don't you think?"
"I don't really know much about fate, to be honest with you, sir."
"Then your parents have done you a great disservice, for fate knows you quite well."
"Are you some sort of seer sir?"
"I can't say that I am young Potter; I'm more of a listener if anything. Magic likes to talk and will tell you a great many things, both marvellous and horrible, if you care enough to listen."
Ollivander grabbed one of his boxes off the shelf and pulled out a wand. He placed the wand on the table and smashed it with a stone. On the inside was a beautiful feather of different shimmering reds and golds.
Harry could swear he felt the wand call to him before it was destroyed. Unable to stop his curiosity, he asked. "Why that wand?"
"If there was a different butterfly, a different flap of its wings, that wand would have chosen you. In this place, in this time, with this butterfly, fate has chosen something different for you, something bigger, grander. So you will need a more appropriate wand."
The process was quicker than Harry had imagined, taking only about forty or so minutes. Ollivander whittled the elder wood down with a stone until it found its proper shape. He then wrapped some kind of hair around the phoenix feather he stole from the other wand. The feather and hair were then threaded into the wand with strange magic. Lastly, he carefully polished the wand before passing it to Harry.
When Harry first grasped the wand, he noticed a weight; it felt much heavier than it should. It vibrated in his palm like the magic was trying to escape its prison within the wood. Where he expected music, he heard only silence from the wand.
"That is the reason why most don't ask for a custom wand and why I almost never make one. When a wand chooses the wizard, it chooses the wizard as they are now, and it will grow with you. When a wand is made for a wizard, it is made for what the wizard can be, and you will have to grow with it." There was a solemnness to Ollivanders words as they hung in the air.
His family stood quietly while Harry let it all sink in. For a boy who struggled to make connections with people, even his family, it felt appropriately cruel that he would also struggle to connect with his wand.
The second they entered Madam Malkin's, Astoria and their mother ran off to see the latest dresses on display, leaving Daphne on her own to get her uniform. She rang the bell at the front desk to get the attention of the clerk.
A larger lady with brown hair done up in a tight perm approached with a large purple shawl draped over her shoulders that looked a bit like heavy curtains. Very tiny round glasses sat on a short upturned nose; they almost fell down as the witch squinted down at Daphne. "Hogwarts, I presume?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Daphne did her best not to stare at the woman's fish lips or the large mole on her chin. Instead, she focused on the drawn-on eyebrows that gave the witch a constant look of surprise.
"Right this way, dearie, and stand up there." She pointed to a slightly raised circular platform in the centre of the room. "You'll just have to wait a moment while I finish up with another client."
That was when Daphne noticed the second platform about six feet to the left of her own. Standing on it was a boy about her own age. He was tall but a little scrawny with knobby knees and long legs. He wore black trousers with a white dress shirt tucked neatly in at the waist and a pair of smart-looking brown pointed shoes.
The boy had a thin nose with a strong jaw and sharp chin. His hair was dark and shaggy, curling ever so slightly at the tips. He wore a pair of thick square black-rimmed glasses that hid the most gorgeous mossy green eyes she had ever seen. The boy reminded her a bit of Clark Kent from the Superman comics, minus the muscles.
Perhaps it was her lack of interaction with the opposite sex, but she found the boy to be quite handsome, and she could feel her cheeks flush. She wanted to cry when he turned his head, catching her staring at him for much longer than what would ever be considered polite.
"Oh, Hello. I didn't notice you come in. Are you here for school robes as well?" The boy's voice was rather scratchy, like he didn't speak often or needed some water. At one point she thought she even caught it cracking a bit. She remembered her cousin Dorian had a similar issue when he was the boy's age.
"Yes, I will be attending Hogwarts in September. What about you?" Daphne hoped it would be Hogwarts for reasons she wasn't completely sure of.
"Brilliant. I mean, I will also be attending Hogwarts." She swore the boy's cheeks flushed a little. Perhaps he was as nervous as she felt. She certainly hoped that was the case.
"I can hardly wait; it feels like the longest summer ever. Obviously I'll miss my horses and my family, but I'll see them on holidays, so I'll be fine. My cousin just graduated and has told me so many stories and Hogwarts just sounds so awesome. Not to mention I wouldn't have to put up with my mother nagging or my sister stealing my jumpers. Though I'm totally going to fall behind on my comics, I guess I'll have that to look forward to next summer. Well, if we don't get a ton of summer assignments, that is. I don't know, what do you think?" Daphne couldn't stop the words falling out of her mouth as she rambled on. It was a terrible habit of hers that occurred when she got nervous.
The boy just blinked for several moments, seemingly still processing everything she had said. He shrugged his shoulders and scratched the back of his head. "I am also looking forward to it. I hear they have a very impressive library and qualified instructors for the lessons."
Daphne grinned. The boy was a total nerd. A handsome, slightly awkward, nerd. It was like the boy jackpot. She was certain she was starting to develop a crush. Obviously she would have to learn what kind of toppings he liked on his pizza and maybe his name before she could confirm it was a proper crush.
"I'm Daphne Greengrass, by the way. I don't believe I caught your name."
He looked surprised when she said her name, like he recognized it for some reason. When he turned to introduce himself, there was definite hesitation, and he avoided her eyes. "I'm, umm. Harry, uh, Potter." He held out his hand for half a minute before tucking it back away.
Daphne fought the urge to scream. This was completely unfair, like a dark, twisted act of fate orchestrating this conceived moment. Or perhaps it was something more unnatural, like an ill-conceived plan formed by traitorous parents. Daphne doubted she would ever know the truth of it. She was now furious at how handsome she found him. How attracted she still felt toward him. She intended the boy to be a silly crush to occupy her daydreams, only to find out he was her intended husband, whom she would be forced to spend the rest of her life with come her graduation. Fate truly was a cruel bitch.
Daphne closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. She would use this moment to set a boundary. She had absolutely no intention of admitting there was a contract between them until they would need to. Hogwarts was her time, and she would do as she pleases and with whom, and there would be nothing he could do about that. For the next seven years, she had every intention of being her own witch.
Before Daphne had a chance to tell Harry precisely where the two of them stood, the clerk returned with Harry's finished robes. Harry didn't hesitate a moment before paying the witch and fleeing from the extraordinarily tense and awkward situation. The coward.
Harry's parents had left him alone to get his schoolrobes while they treated his restless siblings to some ice cream at a nearby shop. The seamstress had finished doing his measuring when the front bell rang. While he waited for her to return, he started writing a list in his head of what order he would read his books in when he got home.
When he turned his head back around, he was shocked to see a witch his age staring at him. He found the asymmetry of her face captivating, particularly her nose. Harry wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling, but his body seemed to be struggling to properly regulate his temperature as his cheeks were slightly flushed and his palms were sweating.
"Oh, Hello. I didn't notice you come in. Are you here for school robes as well?" Harry wished he could apparate away when he heard his voice crack. It didn't help that he sounded like he had never spoken out loud before.
Harry listened intently as she mentioned she would also be attending Hogwarts; before he could stop himself, he was telling her how brilliant he thought it was that they'd both be attending. He felt like ponce, and he was certain she agreed with the assessment.
Still, she was talking to him. He was having some trouble following along as she appeared to jump from one thought to another seemingly at random. He wanted to say something interesting to demonstrate he had been listening intently to her, but when the time came, he was probably just going to blurt out 'brilliant' again.
"I'm Daphne Greengrass, by the way. I don't believe I caught your name."
His mouth went completely dry. He hadn't planned for this. He had attended to seek her out privately during their first week at Hogwarts and just introduce himself. Perhaps come up with a ten-year plan together. Nothing serious.
She definitely wasn't meant to be this pretty. The rest of his life was going to be wrought with anxiety, trying not to embarrass himself in front of his pretty wife.
Harry had never been so unsure of his own name as it stumbled out of his mouth. "I'm, umm. Harry, uh, Potter."
It was like a flick of a switch behind her eyes. One second she was looking at him like he was actually endearing; the next it was like he had kicked her cat. He could see the storm brewing. That his reckoning was approaching. When he saw the clerk approaching with his finished robes, it was like a lifeline.
Harry fled from Madam Malkin's as soon as the robes were in his hands, dropping the galleons on the counter as he fled out the door. He wasn't prepared to meet Daphne today, and it was clear from how fast her mood changed that she wasn't prepared to meet him either. It was probably cowardice to flee on his part before she had a chance to speak, but he didn't know what else to do.
Harry had never been particularly fond of meeting new people, and it certainly didn't help that she would one day be his wife. A witch probably had expectations of what they wanted their betrothed to say or how they behaved. Harry had not been instructed on anything remotely similar beforehand. Honestly, it was a lapse of responsibility on his parents' part. Surely this fell under their jurisdiction.
Perhaps Harry should have paid closer attention to social interactions in general. He was about to start his schooling soon, where he most likely will be forced into multiple social situations. From what he gathered, it was one of the primary reasons behind public education opposed to continued homeschooling. Maybe he could source the library for a book on socializing.
Harry found his parents and siblings sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, sharing two large sundaes between the four of them. His father and Monty seemed to be having a contest to see who could consume the most ice cream the fastest, while the girls looked horrified by what they were witnessing. The laughter broke out across the table when both boys clutched their heads from brain freeze. Harry smiled as he joined them.
All of his supplies must have been shrunk, as they didn't appear to be carrying anything with them. He was able to squeeze in comfortably next to Orchid and Monty, setting the bag with his robes down next to the table.
"How did Malkin's go? Did you get everything you needed?" His mother inquired while his father was busy nursing his self-induced neuralgia.
There was something odd about his mother's tone, but he couldn't quite place it. Harry had never been very good at reading people. "I believe so, but it was quite busy there, so it is possible something was missed."
"Mum said your girlfriend was supposed to be there, ouch!" Orchid shouted at the end after being kicked in the shin by their mother.
"She's not his girlfriend, just some unlucky witch that got saddled with Harry." Monty chipped in before returning to his ice cream.
His mother looked offended on Harry's behalf. "Montgomery Sirius Potter, that was a very insensitive thing to say."
The dots started connecting in his head. Daphne and his meeting had not been a coincidence but a deliberate set-up. Harry couldn't help but feel betrayed. "You planned for Daphne and I to meet like that?"
"We ran into her parents last Thursday, and we had a conversation. We thought it would be good for the two of you to meet before arriving at Hogwarts, but Daphne's parents didn't think she would agree to a planned meeting. So since we were planning on going shopping this week, we came up with a way for you two to just happen to bump into each other." His father, who had finally recovered, tried to explain.
"Why did you not tell me? You know I don't do well when I'm unprepared for things." Harry was both upset and unsettled by his parents ruse. He didn't like being manipulated.
His mother tried to take his hand, but he pulled away, not wanting the comfort. There was a slight look of hurt on his mother's face at his rejection. "We're sorry, Harry; we just thought it would also be a good time for you to get out of your comfort zone. Hogwarts isn't going to be like anything you're used to, and we just want you to be okay."
Harry sat in silence for a long moment. He looked at his parents' faces, which seemed to alternate between remorse and concern. He could understand their reasoning and concerns because they were also his own concerns. He let the tension leave his body and relaxed into his seat.
"I understand. I was just worked up. Things had started okay. We were having a nice conversation until we learned each other's names. She looked about ready to scream when I fled from the building." Harry confessed.
His mother's eyes went wide while his father struggled not to laugh. "Piece of advice, son. Running will do you no good. A witch doesn't forget what she wants to say, and the longer you avoid hearing it, the madder she'll be when she finally says it."
He turned to his mother for confirmation on the matter. "Your father's not wrong. I taught him that. He used to hide while we were in school after riling me up with one of his silly pranks. The longer it took me to find him, the nastier the hex would be when I found him."
Harry frowned. "Isn't that abuse? It seems like an inappropriate reaction."
His mother nodded. "It was, but teenagers aren't great at regulating their emotions and often react incorrectly."
"My pranks were rarely harmless either; I earned every hex I got. I probably deserved quite a few more."
"What you're father and I are trying to say is. Don't run from what Daphne has to say and understand there's a good chance she'll regret saying it when she's older." His mother grabbed his hand, and this time he accepted it. His father then reached out and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.
Monty, unable to stand the awkwardness, broke the silence. "I bet the real reason Harry ran away was because she was ugly."
Orchid stomped on their brother tow, eliciting a loud shriek. "Shut up, Monty; Harry's girlfriend is very pretty. Right Harry?"
The entire table stopped and stared at Harry, waiting for his response. He felt all the heat go to his cheeks, embarrassed by being put on the spot. Not sure what else to do, he mumbled a response. "She's, um. Well. I like her nose. And, um. Her ears. I guess overall she's, um, very, uh, pretty."
Later on in the evening, Harry sat at his desk, his cheeks still warm from embarrassment. He was reading through his school books, trying to put the entire day out of his mind.
There was a knock on the door, and Uncle Charlus entered his room. His uncle was carrying a cage. Inside was a white spotted barn owl.
"Harry, as you will be away from the manor for long periods of time, it is important we maintain steady communication. For that reason, I thought it best to purchase you, your own post owl. Obviously, you could also use her to write to your parents and siblings. In the summer, you could use her to communicate with any associates you make at school."
Harry was only half listening to his uncle. He was too distracted by the beautiful, majestic bird that was looking back at him quizzically. Harry had never seen an owl with white feathers in person before. He was also impressed with how the owl held herself with such dignity and grace.
"The shopkeeper said the bird was a little peculiar and temperamental. Something about her reminded me a bit of you, so I thought the two of you would be a good fit." He paused for a moment to gauge Harry's reaction before asking. "What do you think?"
"She's brilliant, Uncle Charlus; does she have a name?" Harry asked, not taking his eyes off the bird.
"Not one that the shopkeeper knew of, but I imagine she'll tell you her name if you ask."
Harry stared at the large, round, unblinking green eyes, not unsimilar to his own. "What's your name, gorgeous?"
The response was proud. "Hoot."
Harry grinned. "It's nice to meet you, Headwig."
AUTHORS NOTE
Next chapter Harry and Daphne head to Hogwarts aboard the express. You can head over to .com and vote on who joins Harry and who joins Daphne in their compartments. Who does Daphne bump into in the hallway? Who barges into Harry's compartment? And will Harry & Daphne ride the boat together? Feel free to comment or review anything ideas or things you'd like to see.