Wither On The Vine
Failing Herbology, a helpless Harry Potter and a frigid Daphne Greengrass are paired together to work on a special year-long project.
Thrust into an uneasy partnership, will friendship take root and love blossom, or will it all just wither on the vine?
*O*O*O*
"What do you think of my treehouse?
It's where I sit and talk really loud,
Usually, I'm all by myself."
*O*O*O*
When Professor Sprout summoned Harry to her office, the boy knew exactly what he was being called upon for.
"Only two days into the school year, and trouble's already afoot," said Ron as he waggled a potato on a fork at Harry. "Might be a new record, mate."
"Yeah…" he shook his head, "Keep my seat warm, will you?"
Hermione placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Take care, Harry."
With a helpless sigh, he bid farewell to his friends as he lifted himself from the lunch table and headed out reluctantly.
He went through twisting corridors and descended the shifting steps of Hogwarts, eventually leaving through the main gates and taking the dirt path towards the greenhouses that were located just on the outskirts of the castle.
As Harry trekked onwards, he couldn't help but notice the scenic, colourful view. The skies were a deep blue, with thick waves of clouds scattered about. The lush greens of the Forbidden Forest came together well with the hundreds of sunset-coloured pumpkins that dotted the fields in front of him. They ranged in a variety of sizes, from as small as his head to being as large as Hagrid's entire frame.
Standing there, Harry's nostrils were filled with the distinct scent of Halloween, even in the September air. And with pumpkins aplenty, it was rather impossible not to think of the approaching holiday.
Automatically, his mouth watered as his mind filled itself with thoughts of pumpkin pies topped with whipped cream and all other sorts of sugary treats.
However, this appetite quickly vanished when he caught sight of the dark spectres, far in the distance. Their tattered black cloaks billowed in the wind as they hovered in the air amongst the clouds.
As far as Harry knew, they didn't have any facial features, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that they were all staring at him. He grimaced and turned away. It was more than enough having the initial encounter on the train with just one. Seeing that many, even at that distance, was making his skin crawl.
With no time to spare, he continued onwards and past the pumpkin patches, heading straight for the rows of sparkling glass buildings he was all too familiar with.
There were quite a few of them, but the one he headed to was the one furthest in the back; the same Madam Sprout awaited him in.
The door rattled the surrounding glass as Harry rapped his knuckles on it. He winced a little at the sound, slightly worried he'd break something.
Pomona Sprout's faint voice called from further behind the glass. "Come in, Mr Potter!"
Taking a deep breath, Harry swung the door open and entered. Immediately, a wave of hot and humid air struck him in the face, and Harry took a moment to recalibrate to the climate-controlled environment of this particular greenhouse.
Frowning slightly at the uncomfortable sensation of the thick humidity, Harry planted a foot into the fresh dirt that lined the floor and closed the door behind him.
Serving as both a home for tropical plants and an office for their Herbology professor alike, the greenhouse was one of many that had different specialized climates contained within. While it had been interesting for Harry to experience in his first year, his interests had quickly worn thin just after he realised how sweaty he got in this particular greenhouse.
Truth be told, this place looked less like a greenhouse and more like an uncharted jungle. In front of Harry stood all sorts of greenery. Bushes and small trees had erupted out of the floor, taking any available airspace to spread their branches, while ferns and ficuses sprouted out of every conceivable surface, thriving despite the dense overgrowth.
Surprisingly, even through all the canopy and the thickets, light wasn't the least bit scarce. It seemed to radiate from… well, everywhere, somehow evenly illuminating everything like a normal summer day. Harry usually chalked it up as one of Hogwarts' many magical tricks. He was sure it was something that Hermione could probably point out in 'Hogwarts: A History'.
At the end of the greenhouse was a small clearing. There, a short, stout woman was garbed head to toe in dirty leather apparel. She had on a pair of beaten garden gloves, an aged apron, boots, and a big smile on her face. She stood in front of a large wooden table and waved Harry over upon his arrival.
Harry brushed aside the dense flora, using the small dirt trail available to him to make his way to the end of the glasshouse. On his way there, he had snagged his foot on and nearly tripped over a few breaching roots and almost trampled over some delicate flowers that had yet to bloom.
"Hello, Professor," Harry greeted with a huff once he finally reached her clearing. "You called for me?"
"Of course. It's the start of a new year at Hogwarts." Professor Sprout chuckled, dusting her gloves off the side of the table. She plopped herself into her squeaky seat, before regarding Harry properly. "You know as well as I do why you're here, don't you?"
"I can't say I do," denied Harry. "Herbology hasn't started yet, has it?" His eyes flickered to the table, where a collection of gardening tools were laid out in front of him. He briefly entertained the idea of Professor Sprout gutting him with the hedge clippers for such a blatant lie.
It'd certainly save both of their time and spare them the trouble. But he knew she'd never let him get off that easily.
"Ah, then allow me to refresh your memory." Pomona smiled, whipping her wand out of her apron. With a wave, the tools were shifted aside. With another, a small stack of papers appeared out of thin air and plopped right onto the table.
Harry leaned forwards slightly to see what they were, then did his best to hide his grimace at the sight.
Last year's Herbology exam papers.
The reason he was even called here.
"Ohhh…" Harry nodded, his hand on his forehead as he pretended to have suddenly remembered. "Yes… Yes, yes! It's all coming back to me now."
"Is it?" Pomona remarked aloud with an amused snort, "Considering how badly you scored last year, Mr Potter, I'm surprised anything is coming back to you."
The large stack of papers scattered on their own as she reached for it, each piece slipping out from under her and sliding back to the bottom of the pile. Then it stopped, a singular sheet that did not run from her grasp.
She held it out in front of him. It read:
Harry Potter, Second Year
5th June, 1992
Herbology 102
Final Score: [8/100]
Class Position: [34/35]
Seeing the paper in front of him, Harry sucked air in through his teeth, but still put on an indignant face. "Oh, come on, Professor, surely you're being dramatic… thirty-fourth isn't that bad."
Professor Sprout stared at him, raising a brow. "Relative to what?"
He prodded the paper, pointing at his position in the class with a finger. "Last place?" Harry offered with a weak smile.
"It is appalling how flippant you are in regards to your Herbology results, Mr Potter." Pomona sighed, removing a glove to palm her face in embarrassment. "I know you scored lower on Herbology than you did on Potions, and I am aware that Professor Snape does not go easy on his students."
"That's different!" Harry defended himself, "They say Professor Snape really will skin his students alive if they fail too badly! And then he'll use their parts in potions!"
"Five points from Gryffindor for spreading unsubstantiated rumors about a professor." She shook her head in exasperation at the ridiculous explanation before staring at him pointedly. "And are you saying that I'm not stern enough with you?"
"Of course not, Professor!" Harry shook his hands and his head simultaneously, "I like you way more than Professor Snape! It's just… the details in Herbology, they just get lost on me…"
That part was true. He often got his species and varieties mixed up, and the complex, similar-sounding names didn't help either. Getting strangled by Devil's Snare in his first year and having his eardrums pierced by shrieking Mandrakes were a few other incidents that torpedoed his interest in Herbology.
And last year's events surrounding the Chamber of Secrets had also eaten into a majority of his time. Chasing voices through the halls and being blamed for the basilisk's actions hadn't exactly allowed him time to sit and study. So if there was a subject he was willing to let slip to spend more time on his other subjects and sleuthing about, it was Herbology.
He had the least stake in the subject, and given the woman's friendly nature, Professor Sprout wasn't going to kill him like Professor Snape would. Or at least that was what he had thought. Unfortunately, he had overestimated her generosity a little too much and had forgotten that, at the end of the day, she was still a professor at the school.
"That's what revisions, tests, and studying are for, Mr Potter."
"I know, Professor…" he gave her a guilty smile, before joking, "Hermione still won't get off my back about it."
She smiled at the mention of Hermione, who she had hoped would be a good influence on Harry. Unfortunately, being his good friend seemed to have done little to cure his aversion to Herbology and studying.
"That's because Miss Granger is right, and you know it. However, I've come to understand that you're also one of the special cases that I come across every so often. The type of student who truly cannot study conventionally, and must thus apply themselves in different ways."
Hearing that, Harry's face remained impassive, but his ears twitched.
"As such, I'll be assigning you a singular project for the year." Professor Sprout crossed her arms over her chest, looking much friendlier now.
Harry's interests were piqued now. "Just the one?" he asked with a cocked brow.
"Oh yes, and you'll have the whole year to get it done! It'll determine your final grade too."
"What's the catch, Professor?" His face scrunched up, and he stared intently at his professor as if trying to perceive this as some sort of trick.
"If you figure it out and do it right, there won't be much reading involved. Instead, you'll have to use your wits, and there'll be a lot of hands-on work involved. It really is just that simple. If you were curious, I offered the same to the Weasley twins, and they passed." She shook her head as if the memory of dealing with the infamous duo was still fresh in her mind. "Of course, the condition is that if you fail the project, you'll still fail Herbology for this year too. That means your Head of House will be revoking your rights to extracurricular activities. And that includes Quidditch, Mr Potter."
Immediately, Harry kicked up a fuss. "But Professor Sprout!" He was aghast at the proposition. "If I fail, then what about my team? The Hogwarts Quidditch Cup isn't going to win itself!"
Suddenly, Professor Sprout's face turned absolutely thunderous. It was a look so unfamiliar on her friendly face that even Harry was taken aback.
"Trust me, Mr Potter. Fail this, and you won't have to worry about having too much on your plate next year." Professor Sprout warned with a huff. "I will have you buried so far down in the dirt learning about Herbology that you'll have shoots in your nostrils! So you either try your luck with the exams again this year —and likely fail in the process— or you take on my project, and hopefully find that you're much better suited towards it."
Harry groaned. "This isn't much of a choice…"
"You're lucky you're getting a choice at all, Mr Potter."
At that, Harry had to admit she was right. The fact that she was extending him this lifeline meant that she believed he really could succeed.
"Sorry, Professor Sprout. You're right. I didn't mean to be ungrateful. I'll take on your project."
Her usual calm returned, and she settled into her seat. "Good. Now we'll just have to wait for the other student."
"What other student? There's another student?" asked Harry, then he looked confused. "Wait, if you were expecting someone else, too, how'd you know it was me at the door earlier?"
"Of course, there's another student. Remember, you weren't the last in Herbology, Mr Potter. And this is a group project after all, hence why I asked the Weasley twins." Professor Sprout waved her wand over the stack of papers, sending them back to where they had originally come from. "To answer your second question… Unfortunately, they're even less interested in Herbology than you, so I had a feeling they'd be late."
Harry was bewildered at this revelation. "You're pairing the two worst students together for the project? Do we even have a chance at this?"
He was hoping that he hadn't just cluelessly signed away his rights to play for the Gryffindors next year. Having Professor Sprout cultivate plants in his nostrils did not sound like a good time.
"Of course you do. I'd never let you fail without a chance. What I'm hoping from putting you two together is for each of you to draw upon your strengths to help each other out… All you need to do is work together." She gestured for Harry to take a seat while they waited, "Alright, save the rest of your questions for when they arrive."
Hearing this, Harry frowned and took the seat offered by his professor. Ruminating to himself silently, Harry ran through the list of potential students who could have scored lower than him.
Hermione had snagged herself second place, with Neville leading the pack as first in class. Ron had managed to inch his way to a comfortable 28th position through a bit of luck and some half-hearted studying.
Harry was somewhat pleased knowing Draco had managed fifth place, which thankfully meant he definitely wasn't the one. The thought of working with that blond prat was enough to irk him.
The thought of Draco had his mind wandering to his dumb-as-rocks lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle. The potential of having to work with one of those barely sapient apes was a little concerning.
Though, calling them stupid was admittedly ironic given that Harry's own strategy of randomly picking his answers hadn't paid off at all, landing him in this situation in the first place. He didn't even want to think about the fact that they had scored higher than him.
Unfortunately, as the list of classmates dwindled, Harry found himself drawing blanks on who could have possibly scored lower than him.
A few silent seconds passed… and then a minute, before they heard the same rattling of glass as before.
"Come in!" the Professor shouted, and Harry's head swiveled around, oddly eager to know who his partner would be for the rest of the year.
Time seemed to slow when the door swung open, and in stepped a figure wrapped in Slytherin robes that Harry recognised immediately.
It was hard not to. She was Daphne Greengrass, after all.
Like a long, lithe statue crafted out of copper, she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst her pale, pallid Housemates with her unusually tanned skin and her long, slightly curled, bleach-blonde hair. Harry thought she resembled those bikini-clad women he had seen on the telly back at the Dursleys'. The ones advertising the warm and sunny beaches of California in the States.
Even so, he found it difficult to picture her in the same manner.
Because, unlike the warmth of Summer, her appearance was contrasted strongly by the cold, aloof expressions that seemed to have been frozen to her pretty face. Her lips were always pursed in a thin line, and her deep blue eyes perpetually narrowed, leaving her features stuck in a permanent state of mild annoyance.
At what? Harry wasn't sure. But that was the familiarity she shared with her peers — a trait he had come to associate with snobby Purebloods. Especially that frosty exterior of hers. Even her mere presence made the temperature in the greenhouse feel like it was plummeting. Any colder, and he swore that it'd start snowing around her.
Of course, just like how the plants seemed to shy away from her presence, he knew this was all really just in his mind. Though being aware of that still didn't stop the beads of sweat on his forehead from going cold.
These were but a few of the reasons as to why he hadn't interacted with her, and Harry just assumed she'd always been like this.
But the truth was that he had been far too distracted by the concept of magic in his first year, getting up to no good to have paid any attention to girls at the time — especially before his mind had started to be clouded by hormones.
Harry had only started to notice her sometime at the start of the last year. It was hard to miss her, given her exceptional looks. But by then, the incident with the Chamber of Secrets and the whole debacle with him being the Heir of Slytherin had alienated him from almost everyone.
All he knew about her was that she ranked highly amongst them. Perhaps just as much as Malfoy, given the distance the latter usually afforded her. He'd never once seen Malfoy even try to cosy up to her. And he wasn't the only one. For one reason or another, the others seemed to fear her.
Maybe it was also the way she carried herself. Even now being no exception.
Carrying herself with slow, calculated steps and picture-perfect posture, she effortlessly manoeuvred through the veritable obstacle course that Harry had struggled with earlier. Comparing how they navigated the greenhouse made him look so clumsy it was downright embarrassing.
As she came to a stop next to Harry, Daphne's frigid blue eyes flicked over and regarded him. Their eyes locked for just a moment, but Harry felt the skin on the back of his neck tingle, a sense of danger washing over his body and freezing him in place. It was a terribly similar feeling to what he had felt on the train just a few days ago, when that Dementor had attacked him.
Even though he knew it to just be his imagination running wild, every fiber of Harry's being was on edge now at the thought of the terrifying black entities putting on the dangerously gorgeous facade of Daphne Greengrass in an attempt to lure him in.
Subconsciously, Harry shifted slightly away from her.
"Hello, Professor Sprout." Daphne greeted the professor cordially. Her voice felt like it was carried on a breeze, no louder than a murmur. "Apologies for my… delay. You requested my presence?"
"I did, Miss Greengrass. Please sit."
Daphne took a moment to follow the instruction, but settled formally into her seat with her legs swept to the side and her hands on her thighs. As she did, Harry noticed that her hands were comparably worn to the rest of her. Her nails were cut short and clean, and small white scratches covered her fingers and knuckles. They were faint scars that didn't look very serious but still marred her otherwise flawless skin.
They almost reminded Harry of his own hands — the type involved in physical labour. He was sure that if he could see her palms, he'd find callouses there too.
That had been surprising. He hadn't thought Daphne Greengrass to be the sort of witch to get her hands dirty doing… whatever it was she did to get those scars.
Still looking ahead at the Professor, Daphne spoke first, "Could we please make this quick? I'd rather not be here…" her eyes glanced about at the space, "any longer than I need to."
Professor Sprout might have smiled at her, but Harry detected a hint of worry in her gaze. "Of course. Given what happened—"
"I'd rather not talk about it." Though Daphne's face didn't react, she clenched her fingers into a fist. "Please," she insisted.
"I understand." Pomona clasped her gloves over her desk and nodded towards Harry, "Much like Mr Potter, I'm sure you know why you're here."
It was only at Professor Sprout's words that Harry finally remembered what they had been talking about before he had gotten distracted by her entrance.
Wait… Daphne Greengrass was in last place in class? Behind him?
How?!
Daphne's expression did not change, but the look in her eyes seemed to harden. "Because of my… Herbology results." The word was uttered through slightly grit teeth, another unexpected sign of frustration that Harry managed to detect.
"Indeed. A student of your caliber, one that rivals Miss Granger in terms of grades, with O's in all subjects, except Herbology? Very strange, is it not?"
"Students are prone to failure, Professor," Daphne replied coolly. Without breaking her gaze away from the Professor, she raised a hand to gesture towards Harry, "Is that not why Potter is here too? Because he's a failure as well?"
Despite how he was feeling moments ago, Harry found the nerve to get upset at the slight that had been unexpectedly directed his way.
"Hey!" Rising from his seat, he turned towards Daphne with a glare, "If you're going to insult me, then at least have the gall to say it to my face, Greengrass."
Daphne didn't even bat an eye at his outburst, sparing him a quick once-over. "You're right there, aren't you?"
Despite this being their first real interaction, it was clear the two were already off to a bad start.
"One point from both of your Houses…" Pomona sighed at the behaviour of the two before having to play mediator. She regarded Daphne first. "Miss Greengrass, please refrain from insulting Mr Potter. He is here to be your partner, not your verbal punching bag." Then she turned to Harry, "And Mr Potter, please restrain yourself from reacting to Miss Greengrass' provocations. While unnecessary, she is not entirely wrong."
Harry frowned before he slumped back into his seat with a huff, arms crossed in annoyance.
Pomona continued where she had left off.
"You didn't just 'fail' like an ordinary student, Miss Greengrass," corrected the Professor. "You intentionally chose to." At that statement, Professor Sprout pulled her examination sheet out of the air and slid it over towards Daphne.
Harry's curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes darted over, reading the page:
Daphne Greengrass, Second Year
5th June, 1992
Herbology 102
Final Score: [0/100]
Class Position: [35/35]
There was an additional note stuck to the bottom of her exam sheet, likely written by their invigilator. In capital letters, the note said:
[NOTE: STUDENT DID NOT ANSWER ANY OF THE QUESTIONS IN THE PAPER. SPENT THE ENTIRE DURATION OF THE EXAMINATION STARING AT THE COVER PAGE.]
Pomona took the sheet back. "In all my years teaching at Hogwarts, I've known many students. I've had many failures, too. Be it from a lack of preparation, attempts at cheating, anxiety, or even randomly guessing the answers—" She gestured towards Harry, and the boy swore he heard a soft snort coming from the girl next to him, "—but I've never once had a student fail without ever attempting the paper."
"There's a first for everything."
"It's quite obvious you didn't even try."
"I just know when to cut my losses, Professor." Daphne produced a mirthless smirk.
"Oh, enough games, Miss Greengrass!" Professor Sprout reared her stern side again, slamming her hand down onto the table lightly. Daphne's smirk vanished, her face returning back to its impassive state. "We know you were the only student to score a perfect hundred in your first year. We know you intentionally failed last year, and we know there is nothing we can do to force you to take the exams. So, if you won't, then we'll assign you this project with Mr Potter instead."
Daphne was silent after all had been said, and so was Harry, who had been listening keenly. He didn't even know that Daphne had gotten full marks in their first year, which meant she had beaten out Neville and Hermione.
"And if I were to object, Professor?"
Professor Sprout stared intently at the blonde girl.
"You'd both fail for the year." Harry's jaw dropped at the unfair stipulations that affected him as well. "But we all know that's what you want. So, instead, you'll face different punishments. Mr Potter will provide feedback on your behaviour, so if you don't show that you're putting in any effort, we'll take away your privileges — one being the trips to Hogsmeade you'd be taking this year. I'll also have to hold you back for the Summer as well."
Daphne directed her gaze towards the floor as she digested the consequences leveled at her. Harry could have sworn she had uttered 'I'm sure he'd love that,' under her breath, but it'd been so quick and quiet that he wasn't entirely sure if he'd just been hearing things.
He wasn't sure if she had been talking about him, but who else could 'he' have been?
"Does that mean I'll still fail?" Harry asked amidst the silence, praying that he wasn't going to be caught up in Daphne's apparent selfishness.
The answer he received disappointed him greatly. "Yes, this is still a group effort after all, Mr Potter."
Harry groaned hearing that.
Coming to her office was sounding more and more like a mistake with each passing moment.
Hearing his frustrations, Daphne spared Harry another glance, then sighed. After a moment of contemplation, she spoke. "Fine. What needs to be done?"
"Good. The project is simple." Professor Sprout reached under her desk again and produced a small bag in her palm, which she displayed to the two. "These are Blank Seeds. They require a magical touch to kickstart, and, with lots of magical fiddling, have the potential to be manipulated into whatever the person wants it to be."
Professor Sprout produced a single seed from the bag. It looked like a small acorn from an oak tree. She tapped the cap of the seed with her wand, and there was a twinkle of light. Seconds later, the seed's cap popped off as a tiny green sprout emerged. It grew and grew in her hand, now a stem with two leaves at the top.
"Of course, that's easier said than done. Much like any other living thing, they're delicate. You'll have to be gentle, patient, loving, and kind for them to thrive. If you don't…"
The professor waved her wand twice over it, coughing up red sparks over the plant. The shoot turned from green to purple and then a deep red. The leaves began to split into numerous segments, forcefully furling up as if compelled by an invisible force. At some point, it started to resemble an angry red spider. Seconds later, the entire shoot lost its colour, turning a pale white before shriveling up and dying.
Professor Sprout crushed the remainder of the plant up in her glove. The shell crumpled inward with a soft crunch before she held her hand out to the side and sprinkled the dust onto the patch of dirt next to her.
"...It'll die. But fortunately for you two, you'll have an unlimited amount of attempts."
Harry inspected one of the seeds, holding it up to the ceiling. "So the objective of the test is just to grow one?"
He nearly laughed at how easy it seemed. After all, if they didn't go overboard with it and treated it normally, it seemed impossible to fail. Harry was already prematurely celebrating in his head, expecting to ace this project easily. All he had to do was grow a seed, and he could skip out on Herbology for the rest of the year?
Perhaps this deal was pretty good after all.
"No. Your objective is…" Pomona paused, seemingly for dramatic effect. "...to impress me."
"Wh—What does that mean?" asked Harry, who tossed the acorn back onto the desk and scratched the back of his head in confusion. Even Daphne looked uncertain of what Professor Sprout meant by this, expressed through slightly knitted brows and the further pursing of her lips.
"It means exactly what I said. And that's all you'll have to do," clarified Professor Sprout with a kind smile. "You can do whatever you like to the seed, grow whatever you want… but by the end of the year, all you need to do is to impress me. Simple, no?"
"That doesn't sound simple. Not one bit!"
"I have to agree with the fool," muttered Daphne as she narrowed her eyes at the sight of the seeds. Harry restrained himself from lashing out in return. "That doesn't seem like a very accurate or reasonable way to judge us."
After all, what could two students produce to impress the head of Herbology at Hogwarts? Surely, the older witch must have seen plenty in her career. And the requirements for the task were so vague that she could mean anything.
"If this were as impossible as you two are making it out to be, the Weasley twins would've given up when I assigned it to them. Instead, they proved the rest of the staff wrong and surprised all of us! You two are simply making a mountain out of a molehill."
The two seemed to consider this in silence, then shared a glance. An unspoken agreement seemed to fall between them, and they both nodded at Professor Sprout.
To Harry, if Fred and George could do it, then surely he could as well. He'd have to ask them how they managed their project and hopefully get a shortcut so that he could finish it fast and make the most out of his extra time from Herbology.
Seeing as their business had concluded, Daphne rose from her seat and bid Professor Sprout goodbye. She didn't even spare Harry any form of acknowledgement as she departed the greenhouse.
"Well, she's got a bloody attitude," commented Harry after hearing the door close behind him. After today's encounter, he didn't care that she was one of Slytherin's best. She had been rude to him for no reason, and that was enough to irk Harry.
"A bit of advice, Mr Potter. You will need to cooperate with your partner if you wish to pass this project."
"Are you kidding, Professor? We haven't even started yet, and she already hates my guts. If we fail, it's going to be because of her and not me."
"Miss Greengrass has her reasons for her hostility." Professor Sprout sighed as she scooped up the seeds and returned them to their small bag. "But it's not my place to say why. Perhaps in time, after working with her, she'll share them with you as well. Until then, I suggest you try your best to warm up to her and get comfortable spending time together. You'll need each other if you're to succeed."
Harry snorted incredulously at that, shaking his head at how difficult this task was with Daphne Greengrass as his partner. Even Crabbe and Goyle were looking like much better people to work with now. But keeping his remaining complaints to himself, Harry simply nodded in response.
She tossed the bag of seeds over to Harry. He caught it effortlessly as it sailed over towards him.
"Keep that with you, Mr Potter. From tomorrow onwards, whenever you have Herbology lessons, you have my permission to go wherever you please, so long as your efforts are dedicated to completing the task. I'd suggest arranging a time and place to meet Miss Greengrass. Feel free to use the library and one of the private greenhouses as places to conduct your research." Professor Sprout gestured for Harry to stand, permitting him to take his leave. "If you need more seeds, as I'm sure you will, you can always approach me."
With that said, Harry rose and slipped the bag into the pocket of his robes. It felt heavier the moment it hit the bottom, as if it also carried the weight of the task.
As Harry turned to leave, Professor Sprout spoke one last time to him.
"Please be the voice of reason, Mr Potter. I know you can pass this project."
Harry took a second to soak in the words imparted to him before simply nodding. He also bid the professor goodbye and left the greenhouse, still struggling much in the same way as when he had entered. Closing the door behind him, Harry took a few steps before he dropped to his haunches and sighed into his hands.
As the sweet smell of pumpkin filled his nostrils once again, he began to wonder about how the rest of his year would play out.
Just what had he gotten himself into?
*O*O*O*
Chapter 1: End.
*O*O*O*
A/N:
Hello all!
I've had the first chapter of this story mostly written out since January of 2024, and after posting the latest chapter of my other story, I decided to finally put this one out there so I can stop thinking about it. My main focus will still be updating Colours of Obsession first, but I hope to work on this on the side.
I'm planning for this story to be a bit more contained, with each chapter covering a week to weeks at a time. Perhaps that'll motivate me to write a bit more efficiently.
I wanted to have that gap-moe vibe with this version of Daphne by making her have a cali-girl exterior (there's also an explanation for this) while having the icy personality more people are used to. And since my first Haphne story didn't include Daphne's 'Ice Queen' persona, I've decided to try my hand at it in this one. I love writing back-and-forth dialogue, be it flirting or bickering, so I think I'll have a lot of fun with the prickly, demeaning attitude the two will have with each other.
Though I'm sure they'll warm up to each other eventually, right? ...Right?
Anyways, if you're new to my writing and would like to read more Haphne, feel free to check out my other fic (Colours of Obsession). Admittedly, and with self-conscious hindsight, the first few chapters aren't very well written but I think it picks up at around chapter 5.
Finally, be it that you're one of my readers who came from COO or just a first-time reader, do let me know your thoughts, and thank you for your support!