CHAPTER 54: BREWING CAMARADERIE

Walking through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts with Daphne Greengrass felt surreal to Harry. Lately, his life had been filled with such odd experiences, so he had grown accustomed to the unexpected. Each time they passed a student, curious glances followed them. The sight of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin walking together was enough to turn heads. It made Harry ponder whether the rigid House divisions were at the root of many of Wizarding Britain's problems.

"Planning to join your friends?" Daphne inquired, breaking the silence as they descended the stairs towards the dungeons. They had Double Potions next. Harry's thoughts drifted to Professor Snape. He was curious about how Snape would treat him now that he had offered private tutelage. Would the professor remain as harsh and irritable as ever, or would there be a noticeable shift? Harry also speculated on Snape's reaction to seeing one of his prized Slytherins walking beside the so-called Golden Boy. If nothing else, it promised to be an interesting lesson.

"You think Snape will blow a gasket seeing us together?" Harry asked, smirking slightly.

Daphne raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "He might. But then again, he's not as predictable as people think. He values his Slytherins' choices, even if he doesn't always agree with them."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "And what about your friends? Aren't they going to question why you're hanging out with a Gryffindor?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Let them talk. I make my own decisions. Besides, it's not like we're planning a grand alliance or anything. We're just walking to class."

Harry appreciated her straightforwardness. It was refreshing compared to the usual politics and hidden agendas. They reached the dungeon entrance, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he imagined Snape's reaction.

"You seem in a good mood," Daphne observed, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"Just thinking about how unpredictable today has been," Harry replied. "This morning, I had this odd feeling that today's Double Potions would be something else. And then, of course, we have Umbridge to deal with later."

Daphne's expression darkened at the mention of Umbridge. "That woman is insufferable. Her lessons are a waste of time."

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed. "It's like she's trying to make us unlearn everything we've been taught."

As they entered the Potions classroom, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The air was thick with the scent of various brews and the low murmurs of students preparing for the lesson. Snape stood at the front, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed Harry and Daphne walking in together.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, his voice laced with its usual disdain. "How fortunate we are to be graced with your presence. And Miss Greengrass, what an... interesting choice of companion for the morning."

Harry kept his expression neutral, though he could feel the tension in the room. "Good morning, Professor," he replied evenly.

Daphne, unperturbed, gave a polite nod. "Professor."

Snape's gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he turned his attention to the rest of the class. "Today, we will be brewing a Wit-Sharpening Potion. I expect nothing less than perfection."

Harry exchanged a brief glance with Daphne, who gave him an encouraging nod. As they set to work, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie. For once, the House lines didn't seem as significant. They were just two students, navigating the complexities of their world together.

The lesson proceeded with the usual mix of tension and concentration. Harry found himself more focused than usual, perhaps spurred by the silent challenge to prove Snape wrong. Beside him, Daphne worked with the same calm precision, her presence a steadying influence.

As the class drew to a close, Snape prowled the aisles, inspecting their work. He paused at Harry and Daphne's cauldron, his expression inscrutable.

"Acceptable," he muttered, moving on.

Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I think that's the closest I've ever gotten to a compliment from him," he whispered to Daphne.

She smirked. "You must be doing something right, Potter."

Leaving the dungeons, they walked back through the corridors, the weight of the lesson lifting. Harry felt a sense of accomplishment, not just for the potion but for the small steps towards bridging the gap between their Houses.

"Same time next week?" Daphne asked as they reached the main hall.

Harry grinned. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

As they parted ways, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that today had been more than just an ordinary day. It was a step towards something better, something that transcended the old rivalries and animosities. And for the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope.

Maybe it wasn't too late to change classes?

Harry stared at the schedule in his hand, wondering if he could somehow slip into a different class without causing a scene. His mind was racing with thoughts about the coming year and the new challenges he would face.

"Harry?" a voice broke through his thoughts, soft but insistent.

He blinked, coming back to the present. "Sorry. I was… yes?"

Daphne Greengrass stood before him, her head tilted slightly to one side, studying him with an intensity that made Harry feel like he was an unusual creature in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class. He hadn't expected her to approach him so openly in public, given her typically reserved nature. But Daphne had already made it clear she didn't care what others thought of her. Harry almost felt jealous of her devil-may-care attitude, her ability to brush off the judgmental whispers that seemed to follow them both.

"Are you disappointed?" she asked, her tone curious but gentle.

Harry frowned slightly. "In what?"

"In me?" she clarified, her head cocking slightly to the right as she placed a hand upon her chest. "I know I screwed things up on the train. You didn't even exchange a word with me at the dinner table. And then that stunt with Susan you pulled at breakfast; it makes me wonder if you're… unhappy with me. Perhaps you've reconsidered our arrangement?"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "It's not that, Daphne. It's just… everything's been so overwhelming. I didn't mean to make you feel like that."

Daphne's expression softened a bit. "So, you're not disappointed?"

"No, not disappointed," Harry said, shaking his head. "Confused, maybe. A bit lost. But not disappointed."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice as she glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Harry, if you have doubts or if there's something bothering you, we should talk about it. I don't want misunderstandings to drive a wedge between us."

Harry looked at her, appreciating her straightforwardness. It was refreshing, especially compared to the convoluted relationships he had experienced in the past. "You're right. We do need to talk. I just... I don't know where to start."

"How about the train?" Daphne suggested. "What happened there?"

Harry hesitated. "I was just... surprised, I guess. I didn't expect you to approach me, especially not in front of everyone."

Daphne nodded. "I understand. It was a bit bold, even for me. But I didn't want to waste time pretending we don't have a connection, or that we didn't make an agreement."

Harry appreciated her honesty. "And Susan... that wasn't meant to be a stunt. She's just a friend, and I didn't think about how it might look."

"Well, it looked like you were sending a message," Daphne said, her voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "A message that maybe you weren't as committed to our arrangement as I thought."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm committed, Daphne. I just need to get better at balancing things. It's all new to me."

She smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "We can figure it out together. Just promise me you'll talk to me if something's bothering you."

"I promise," Harry said, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "And I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was second-guessing things."

"Apology accepted," Daphne said. "Now, let's get to class before we're late. We can't have our first official day as partners starting with detention, can we?"

Harry chuckled. "No, that wouldn't be a great start. Thanks, Daphne."

They walked side by side toward their first class, the tension between them easing with each step. As they entered the classroom, Harry felt a newfound sense of resolve. With Daphne by his side, maybe this year wouldn't be so overwhelming after all.

Considering she was one of the few who actually understood him, Harry felt a pang of guilt at his harsh words.

"You're seeing phantoms, Daphne," he told her bluntly.

"Am I?" Her voice was practically dripping with skepticism.

"Yes," he asserted. "I've had enough problems without you thinking of imaginary ones, Daphne." Seeing the hurt flash across her face, he backpedaled, realizing how it might have looked to her. "Sorry. It's just… things haven't been great since coming to Hogwarts. Merlin, they aren't even allowing me to live in Gryffindor Tower."

Daphne widened her eyes in genuine surprise. "I thought that was just a rumor— but seriously? Why?"

"You thought what?"

"Millie overheard the Gryffindors talking about how you weren't at the tower last night."

"Millie?"

"Millicent Bulstrode," Daphne clarified. "There were whispers about you getting thrown out of Hogwarts for bringing in a dark creature, or something like that."

"Let me guess, Chang?"

She nodded. "What was that about?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Forget it. Just don't take those rumors seriously."

Daphne snorted. "Potter, if I were to believe in your rumors, I'd ask you about your secret kingdom in the clouds, where you're being trained by Morgana and Merlin. Oh, and the secret veela coven that worships the ground you walk on. They're even calling Delacour the coven's official representative."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that. "A secret kingdom in the clouds? That's a new one."

"Oh, it's very detailed," Daphne said with a smirk. "Apparently, you've got a palace made of crystal, and you ride a dragon to class."

"Sounds like I've got quite the imagination," Harry remarked dryly.

"But seriously, Harry," Daphne's tone shifted back to concern. "What's really going on? Why aren't you in Gryffindor Tower?"

Harry hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. "It's complicated. The headmaster thought it would be safer for me to stay somewhere else for now."

"Safer?" Daphne frowned. "From what?"

"From who, more like," Harry muttered under his breath.

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "Is someone targeting you?"

Harry glanced around the nearly empty corridor before speaking in a low voice. "Look, there are people who think I'm a danger, that I attract trouble. So, they decided it's best if I stay in a more secure location."

"And you just go along with it?" Daphne asked incredulously.

"What choice do I have?" Harry shrugged. "It's either that or risk more people getting hurt."

Daphne's expression softened. "Harry, you shouldn't have to carry that burden alone. If you ever need to talk, or if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know."

He looked at her, appreciating the genuine concern in her eyes. "Thanks, Daphne. That means a lot."

"Don't mention it," she said with a small smile. "Now, let's get to class before we give the professors another reason to target you."

As they walked towards their classroom, Harry felt a little lighter. Having someone like Daphne who understood him and stood by his side made the burden he carried seem a bit more bearable. Maybe, just maybe, things would start looking up.

Harry nearly choked, caught off guard by Daphne's piercing gaze.

"So where were you last night?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

Translation — Did you spend the night with Fleur Delacour?

Which, to be honest, was exactly where he had been. But this was not the time to open that jar of flobberworms. Snape was going to be livid if they were late. Doubly so if he entered the classroom with a fuming Daphne Greengrass.

I remember when I was normal, Harry thought wistfully.

"The Ministry's declared me a threat, so I've got to stay away from others. Outside of classes, that is. Because I'm also a warlock, Hogwarts has this provision of providing private rooms for people like us. Add two and two together..."

"The Headmaster gave you a private room," Daphne concluded.

"Yes."

"Where is it?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

He smiled, trying to ease the tension. "On the third floor. Behind the tapestry of Medea of Colchis. It's pretty comfy, to be honest. I mean, I've got my personal room and everything, and a hall to practice spell casting without, you know, being a danger to others."

"But that isn't right," Daphne retorted indignantly. "You're a Noble Lord, not a criminal. I'll write to Dad. Does Lord Black know about this yet?"

Harry felt a small sense of vindication at seeing her get angry on his behalf. First Susan, and now her. It was similar yet wholly different from Ron and Hermione's loyalty, but endearing nonetheless. A couple of months ago, he'd probably have kept his head low and walked away, unwilling to speak his feelings out.

Now? He reached out and gingerly grabbed her arms.

That act alone swept the wind off Daphne's rant.

"It's okay," he said, looking into her eyes. "Dumbledore is already facing a lot of flak from others, especially with the Governors working against him. You know that Umbridge woman is here just to make things worse for me. The least I can do is not give them more ammunition."

"But Harry, it's unfair. You shouldn't have to isolate yourself like this," Daphne argued, her eyes softening but still fierce.

"I know," he admitted. "But it's temporary. Besides, I can still meet people during classes and in common areas. It's not like I'm a prisoner."

"It feels wrong," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You deserve better."

Harry squeezed her arms gently. "Thank you, Daphne. It means a lot to me that you care. But really, I'll be fine. We'll get through this."

She searched his eyes, looking for any sign of false bravado. Finding none, she sighed. "Alright, but promise me you'll let me know if things get too much. We're in this together."

"I promise," Harry said sincerely. "Now, let's get to class before Snape decides to give us both detention for life."

Daphne nodded, finally letting a small smile break through. "Wouldn't want that, would we?"

They walked together to the Potions classroom, the earlier tension between them dissipating. Harry felt a renewed sense of determination. With friends like Daphne and Susan by his side, maybe he could face whatever challenges lay ahead. And who knew? Maybe he'd even manage to make it through the year without too many more surprises.

"Nothing," Daphne retorted, her eyes flashing with frustration. "You're not some Muggle-born they can torment. You're the freaking Boy-Who-Lived and a celebrity. You're probably the youngest to become the Lord of a Noble House through ascension by Family Magic. Not to mention your warlock status. Do you not understand how much shit Fudge and his cronies will be in if you decide to walk away from Britain?"

He did understand. He would be lying if he said he hadn't considered that alternative. But it wouldn't solve anything.

"Daphne," he said, lowering his voice even more. "If leaving Britain was an option, don't you think Sirius would've already done that? But we both know what's out there. Yes, I can go abroad, but Voldemort will come after me. It won't be over until it is over. And if I have to face him, I'd rather do it in my place of power, surrounded by those I care about. I have friends and family here, and I have… you. I have dreams, desires, aspirations. I will not leave all of this simply because our fool of a minister and his pet toad think that the truth is inconvenient."

Daphne's eyes were drilling into his own, her intensity unwavering.

"Eventually, Voldemort will make his move, and when that happens, everyone will see the truth for what it is. That's why neither your dad nor Sirius is doing anything against Fudge for now. They know it, Dumbledore probably knows it, and honestly, I think even Lucius Malfoy knows that Fudge will be out the door the moment Voldemort shows up in public."

Daphne's expression softened slightly, her anger giving way to concern. "I just don't want you to get hurt, Harry. You're more than just a symbol to me. You're... important."

Harry felt a warmth spread through him at her words. "I know, Daphne. And that's why I need to stay and fight. For all of us."

She took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Alright. But promise me you'll be careful. I can't lose you to this madness."

"I promise," Harry said, his voice steady. "We'll get through this together."

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of their Potions class. They exchanged a quick, meaningful glance before hurrying down the corridor. As they reached the door, Harry paused and turned to Daphne.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. "For believing in me."

Daphne gave him a small smile. "Always, Harry."

They entered the classroom, where Snape was already glaring at them for being on the edge of tardiness. As they took their seats, Harry felt a renewed sense of determination. No matter what challenges lay ahead, he knew he had allies who believed in him. And with that, he was ready to face whatever came next.

"But that doesn't mean—"

"Daphne," he stressed, cutting her off, "I'm a warlock. It doesn't just get me a private room; it also gets me a free pass to skip classes if I think it's useless. Worse comes to worst, I'll skip Umbridge completely. Rufus Scrimgeour gave me an Auror internship offer after my OWLs, and Sirius is a damned Hit-Wizard Captain. You really think I need Toady's classes to get me somewhere in life?"

Technically, he would sign up for neither, because he had already accepted the Department of Mysteries offer. But he couldn't obviously tell Daphne that, and it'd be an acceptable excuse for his private studies, or whatever Tonks had in mind until his OWLs.

In hindsight, it would have been a nightmare and a half if he had continued to live in Gryffindor Tower. Hermione would watch him like a hawk, and while Ron would be slightly easier to deal with, he'd be a distraction and inform Hermione just in case he noticed him studying beyond the school curriculum. And then there was Ginny and Neville and the twins…

No. It was so much better that he had the privacy of his own room.

On the other hand, Gryffindor Tower would have kept both Fleur and Daphne away most of the time. His private room though…

"Why are you making faces at me?" asked Daphne, interrupting his thoughts.

Damn it.

"... nothing. Just thinking. I mean, I'm not gonna let it get to me. I want to see how far they can keep pretending things are hunky-dory, you know. Gives me time to prepare for Voldemort. All I've got to do is keep my head down and stay out of trouble."

Daphne snorted, loud and unapologetic. "Stay out of trouble? You? That I'd pay to see happen."

"Your confidence in me is inspiring!" he deadpanned, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

That made her laugh even harder, her laughter echoing through the corridor. Harry just cocked his head back and watched with a wry grin as Daphne laughed, holding her belly.

"Okay, sorry! Sorry!" she managed to say after a moment, an occasional chuckle popping in. "Seriously, you're a trouble magnet."

"Yeah," Harry drawled, joining in her amusement. "Tell me more."

"What did Susan want with you?" she asked, her laughter subsiding but a playful glint still in her eyes.

It probably said something about his newly gained experience with women that he didn't so much as blink at the abrupt change in conversation. Really, what was he thinking?

He shrugged. "Nothing much. I just bumped into her this morning. She, too, was irritated at me having to stay away from the others. We just walked to the Great Hall, and she invited me to sit with her."

"And?" Daphne prompted, leaning in with curiosity.

He arched an eyebrow. "And what? I told her no. No way McGonagall would walk all the way to give me my timetable. She asked me for lunch sometime later this week, and I agreed."

Something about Daphne's expression tightened, a hint of possessiveness flashing in her eyes. "And what if I were to ask you to sit with us today at lunch?"

"Err… why would you want me to do that?" Harry asked, genuinely puzzled.

She cocked her head, her gaze drilling into him. "Because we are handfasted and to be wed? Is it not natural for me to want to get to know you better and spend time with you?"

Well, when she put it like that… Harry felt a warmth spread through him, mingled with a touch of uncertainty.

"Harry?" Daphne's voice brought him back to reality, her eyes searching his for a response.

He gave her a sheepish grin. "I guess what you said makes sense, but it just doesn't come naturally to me that you'd want to spend time with me."

Daphne arched an eyebrow at his admission.

"I know," he said, scratching his head. "I guess it's one of those things easier said than done. I'm still working on it. Honestly, the number of things on my schedule just keeps increasing by the hour. Babbling just invited me to private instruction. And then the Ministry is trying to mess with me every step of the way. Things are way more chaotic than I can tell you."

"You haven't told me anything at all!" Daphne said with a hint of amusement.

Harry scratched his left ear, feeling a bit flustered. "But I get that," she continued, contemplatively, before she held out her right hand. Harry noted her short, well-manicured fingernails, painted pink to match her lip gloss.

"... what?" he asked, puzzled by the sudden gesture.

"I thought about what you said on the train, and I realized I was just trying to force things. It's… Pansy is my best friend, and I just got carried away. I mean, I know I shouldn't have gone ahead with her insane plan but…"

"It's hard to say no to those you love," Harry finished for her, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Her blue orbs met his green ones, a shared understanding passing between them.

"Yes," she whispered. "It is."

In that moment, Harry felt a connection with Daphne that went beyond their arrangement or the chaos surrounding them. It was a bond forged in shared struggles and a mutual desire for understanding. And as he reached out to take her hand, he knew that, despite the challenges ahead, they would face them together.

"So I was thinking of trying the normal way with you. Throw this entire wedding thing out of our heads for now, and just stick to being friends. Sharing classes, helping each other with homework. That sort of thing," Harry suggested tentatively.

"You sound like Hermione," Daphne remarked, a flicker of displeasure crossing her face.

It was one of those moments that reminded him that regardless of how well she understood him, she was a purist at heart. Not as bad as Malfoy, but you couldn't be friends with Parkinson and not be tainted with her brand of bigotry. At least Daphne was not resistant to change.

If nothing else, it had diverted the conversation topic from Susan and breakfast.

"Fine. Friends it is," Daphne agreed, her expression softening slightly.

"So, about that lunch?" Harry ventured, trying to shift the focus.

He spoke too soon again, didn't he?

"Are you sure it's the best idea?" Daphne's brows furrowed with concern.

"I mean, I'm pretty sure Malfoy and Umbridge would have kittens seeing me there. And then there's Slytherin House. Unless…" he crossed his arms, "this is another of Pansy's plans? You know, inviting me to Slytherin House just so she can screw things between us?"

"No," Daphne replied firmly, her eyes flickering with annoyance. Good. This was Daphne's own decision, and not something Parkinson had cooked up.

"How about this? Let's have supper in my room sometime this week?" Harry suggested, trying to offer an alternative.

Daphne's lips turned upward in amusement. "Why, Mr. Potter, are you too eager to have me in your room?"

"Please," he teased back, giving her a lopsided grin. "You had me behind closed doors on the first day itself. This is just me being polite."

"Fine. It's a date," Daphne agreed with a playful glint in her eyes.

It… was. Wasn't it? Despite her casual demeanor, Harry didn't miss the spark of victory flashing in her eyes. Clever girl. She knew he was going to deny the lunch at the Slytherin table idea and had artfully directed the conversation in a direction that made him offer her a private lunch instead.

Daphne: 1, Sucker: 0.

"Say, how about the day after tomorrow?" Harry suggested, trying to match her playful tone.

"Alright, Miss Greengrass," Harry said, drawing himself to his fullest height with a mock-serious expression, "we've got a date."

And with that, they parted ways, each with a newfound sense of anticipation for their upcoming "date." Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness. But as he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this friendship with Daphne Greengrass was going to be something special.

As Harry continued down the corridor, he couldn't shake the grin from his face. There was something oddly exhilarating about the prospect of spending time with Daphne outside the confines of their usual interactions. It was a welcomed change from the constant turmoil of Hogwarts life.

Lost in thought, Harry almost missed the approach of Neville Longbottom, who seemed to be rushing to catch up with him.

"Hey, Harry! Wait up!" Neville called out, jogging to catch up with him.

Harry slowed his pace, offering Neville a smile. "Hey, Neville. What's up?"

Neville looked slightly out of breath as he caught up, his face flushed with exertion. "I just wanted to ask if you'd seen Luna around. She's been missing from the common room all morning, and I'm starting to get worried."

Harry's smile faded, concern creasing his brow. "No, I haven't seen her. But I'm sure she's fine, Neville. Luna has a habit of wandering off sometimes. She probably found something interesting to investigate."

Neville nodded, but Harry could see the worry lingering in his eyes. "I hope you're right, Harry. It's just... with everything going on lately, I can't help but worry."

"I understand, Neville," Harry reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll keep an eye out for her, alright? If we don't see her by dinner, we'll ask around and see if anyone knows where she is."

Neville nodded, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Thanks, Harry. I appreciate it."

"No problem, Neville. That's what friends are for," Harry said with a reassuring smile.

As they continued on their way, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He hoped Neville was right and that Luna was simply off on one of her usual adventures. But until they found her, the worry would linger like a shadow over Hogwarts.

As Snape's voice echoed through the dungeon-like Potions classroom, his trademark sneer seemed etched permanently on his face. "Before we begin today's lesson," he announced, his tone dripping with disdain, "I think it's appropriate to remind you that next June, you'll all be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtably are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your OWL, or suffer my… displeasure."

Harry observed as Snape's gaze lingered on the Gryffindor side of the room, where Neville appeared to shrink into his seat to avoid the professor's piercing stare. Across from them, the Slytherins wore smug grins, relishing in the discomfort of their rivals, before Snape lazily shifted his vision to the rest of the class.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape continued, his tone ominous. "I only accept the very best for my NEWT Potions class, so some of us will certainly say goodbye."

Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of grim satisfaction at the thought of finally giving up Potions after fifth year. His gaze met Snape's, a silent acknowledgment of their mutual dislike for each other.

"Unfortunately," Snape added softly, his voice laced with malice, "we still have another year before that propitious moment of farewell. So whether you are intending to attempt NEWT Potions, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I expect from my OWL students."

Just then, Snape's attention abruptly shifted, singling out Daphne Greengrass. "Miss Greengrass," he called out, his tone cutting like a whip, "last I checked, you barely scraped an Acceptable in your year-end exams. Unless you wish to nose-dive further to Dreadful, I suggest you sit with students who can actually brew instead of…" His gaze shifted to Harry, "Clumsy dunderheads that can't tell the difference between a cauldron and their foot."

Daphne squirmed under Snape's intense scrutiny, but she remained silent, her expression a mix of discomfort and defiance. Harry clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap back at Snape. Instead, he focused on the lesson ahead, determined to prove the professor wrong in his own quiet way.

Harry kept his head low, scrutinizing Daphne from the corner of his eyes. He had expected some sort of emotion from her. If not anger or resentment, then at least a bit of annoyance at the man's singling her out. He carefully noticed the triumphant gleam in Pansy's eyes and the smirk on her lips, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He'd agree that Ron had his shortcomings, but Daphne had terrible taste in friends. He supposed he couldn't have helped it, given she had been in Slytherin House over the past years, but now that she was part of his life, he'd need to put a check on Pansy's influence. Daphne might even be hurt because of it, but it'd be necessary. For victory to be gained, lesser sacrifices needed to be made.

"Do not worry, Professor," Harry replied loudly, his tone laced with sarcasm, "I've got my eyes corrected. I now know the difference between my foot and my cauldron."

Daphne looked at him with utter bewilderment, clearly caught off guard by his response.

"Talking back to a teacher, Potter?" Snape sneered, a victorious glint in his eyes. "It's clear your newfound fame has gotten to your head. Detention tomorrow night, after supper. We'll see if scrubbing cauldrons teaches you some humility."

Had this been another year, Harry would've been enraged. Now, he just nodded at Snape, meeting the man's eyes for a second before looking down, knowing exactly what had happened. Snape had told him he'd be teaching him how to defend against the Dark Arts, and this was his preferred way of setting his classes, with no one being the wiser. Too bad Daphne had to serve as his 'excuse' to get Harry to react.

Regardless of his intentions, Snape was a git. No amount of private teaching would change that.

Snape looked like he had apparently decided that it was enough pep talk and moved on with the class.

"Today we will work on a potion that often comes up at the OWL Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients, you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. You will find the ingredients in the cupboards. Instructions—" he waved his wand, "are on the board. Begin!"

Harry didn't need to be a fan of potions to determine that this one was more difficult and fiddly than the others they had prepared over the years. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right way and number of times, first clockwise, then anticlockwise; with the heat of the flames raised and lowered to exact levels for the exact number of minutes before the last ingredient was added.

"Why did you do that?" Daphne whispered as she quickly jotted down the list of ingredients on a piece of parchment. It was a good idea, for in less than ten minutes, the place would be so full of multi-colored fumes it'd be difficult to read the blackboard from afar.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, glancing over at her with curiosity.

"Snape already said what he had to say. Your taunting him served no purpose," Daphne insisted in a hushed tone.

"The git wouldn't be happy until he deducted points or threw me in detention. He was just using you to get a rise out of me. Obviously, he would not take points off his House, so he'd humiliate you further instead," Harry reasoned quietly.

"And you acted to give him what he wanted?" Daphne questioned, a hint of frustration evident in her voice.

Harry grinned. "Yes."

"Why?" Daphne pressed, her expression earnest.

His lips twisted upward. "We're friends, remember? It's what friends are for."

He felt a twinge of guilt at how earnestly moved Daphne looked, but he couldn't help feeling a sense of camaraderie in their exchange. Despite the complexities of their situation, Harry found solace in the fact that Daphne seemed to understand, even if she didn't fully agree with his actions.

As the potion-making process continued, Harry found himself caught up in the delicate dance of adding ingredients, stirring, and monitoring the cauldron's temperature. Despite Snape's intimidating presence and his own mischievous encounter earlier, he was determined to succeed in brewing the Draught of Peace.

Daphne, too, seemed focused on the task at hand, diligently following the instructions on the board and measuring out the ingredients with precision. There was a quiet determination about her that Harry admired, a reminder of her resilience in the face of adversity.

As they worked side by side, the tension between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by a shared sense of purpose. Harry couldn't help but feel grateful for Daphne's presence, her calm demeanor providing a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos of Potions class.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of meticulous potion-making, they stepped back to observe their handiwork. The cauldron emitted a soft glow, the liquid inside shimmering with an iridescent sheen.

"Well, I'll be damned," Harry muttered under his breath, unable to hide his surprise at their success.

Daphne smiled faintly, a glimmer of pride in her eyes. "Looks like we make a decent team, Potter."

Harry couldn't help but return her smile. Despite the challenges they faced, there was a newfound sense of camaraderie between them, a silent acknowledgment of their shared victory in the face of adversity.

As Snape approached to inspect their potion, Harry braced himself for the inevitable criticism. But to his surprise, the professor merely nodded in approval before moving on to the next pair of students.

As the class drew to a close, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to his relationship with Daphne Greengrass than he had initially thought. And for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope for the future, knowing that he had a loyal friend by his side.

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