Harry's agitation was broadcast in every movement he made. His furrowed eyebrows, the idle drumming of his fingertips on the library tabletop, his leg bouncing nervously; he was worried.

"I was there, dammit! He didn't look like he just wanted to lecture you on blood purity."

"He's right, Daphne." Hermione looked up from her day planner. "We were all really worried."

She looked over at Ron, who was lounging with his feet up on an empty chair. "They were worried. I was thinking about quidditch tryouts."

At that, Harry laughed and ruffled his friend's hair. "Don't let him fool you. He was planning a rescue attempt in case you didn't make it to bed safely."

The tight knot of loneliness and fear inside Daphne's gut loosened at their byplay. "Thank you. It means a lot to have you on my side." Hermione nodded primly and went back to her planner, while Ron coloured slightly and slouched a little more in his seat. "Wait- how would you have known if I didn't get to bed?"

Harry reached into his pocket, then gave a significant look in the direction of the other two Gryffindors. Hermione shrugged without looking up, and Ron nodded once. "We were keeping an eye out using this."

Unfolding a battered piece of parchment, Harry craned his neck to look around the secluded corner of the library he and Hermione frequented. Tapping his wand to the parchment, he whispered, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." Ink began to spread out from where his wand touched, swiftly taking a shape Daphne recognised after a moment.

"T-this is-. what are these dots?" she asked, leaning closer for a better look. "Incredible! Where did you get this?"

"My dad made it." His reply was full of quiet pride, and their eyes met, inches away.

"It's amazing!"

"It's also not something to be shown off to impress a girl," Hermione said archly. "Do you have your course schedule?"

"Right, of course." Harry swiftly folded the ingenious map and put it away while Daphne pulled her schedule out of her bag, sliding it across the table. "Can I see yours?"

Hermione slid hers out of her planner, as Harry dug through his bag. Ron folded his hands behind his head. "Left my bag in the Tower, sorry. My schedule's basically the same as Harry's, though."

"Why would you do something so irresponsible? We came here to study!"

"Study what? It's the first day back!"

Tuning out their argument, Daphne compared the Gryffindors' class selection to her own. Hermione was taking a heavy load of NEWT offerings, but if what Ron said was true, he and Harry weren't slacking, either. A glimmer of resentment swelled inside her.

In the immediate term, with her goals decidedly focused on things other than school, Daphne should be happy for the opportunity to evade NEWT classes - Arithmancy being the only one on her schedule. But she'd always performed well academically. It was hard not to feel bitter that all that hard work was negated because of one round of tests.

Hermione tried to school her features as she perused Daphne's schedule before passing it over to Harry. "Um, I guess I'll see you in Arithmancy."

"What does this mean, here?" he asked. "'HH Charms'? 'HH Transfiguration'?"

She didn't respond. Her entire head, from her neck to the tips of her ears felt hot. Ron seemed embarrassed, sitting up a little straighter and pretending to read the titles of books on a nearby shelf. It was Hermione who eventually answered his question. "HH stands for 'household.' Courses offered to upperclassmen who didn't score high enough for a NEWT class, but still want to learn more everyday magic in that field."

"Oh. But you said…" Harry trailed off expectantly.

"Can we talk about it later?" Daphne knew exactly what he was going to say. He'd reported his OWL results in their correspondence following his birthday, but she'd been more vague - 'Pretty much what I expected, but I did good in Potions and Arithmancy' - about her own scores.

"Ron, why don't we head back to the Tower? I can help you fill in your day planner," Hermione said, while packing her things into her bag.

"What day planner? You know I don't have one of those," Ron groused, but stood up to join her anyway.

"Yes, you do! I bought you one when we did our school shopping, remember?"

"Oh, er, I think I might have left it at the Burrow."

"What!? How could you be so inconsiderate?" Their argument faded away as they left the library.

"So what's the deal?" Harry asked. "Why didn't you tell me about your OWLs?"

"It's not like you asked for specifics. And… and it doesn't really matter. Like I said, I'm going to work with my family after graduation."

Harry read through her schedule again. "I didn't mean to- I mean, we've taken classes together for years. I know you're smart. Hell, we worked together in Potions last term! You're better than I am!"

"I screwed up, okay? I'm not exactly proud of my scores, talking about it isn't making me feel better!" Couldn't he understand this was a sensitive subject?

Apparently, he did, because his tone softened. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little disappointed I won't get to see you in class. Why didn't you sign up for NEWT Potions?"

"I only got an Exceeds."

"Me too. The new professor doesn't require an Outstanding."

No one told her that. "Really?"

Harry took her hand, grabbing both of their bags with his other. "Let's go!"

"What? Where?" He was practically dragging her out of the library, a happy smile on his face.

"To get you into NEWT Potions."

"Right now?" The idea of barging in on a professor out of the blue was intimidating; at the very least, Daphne couldn't fathom ever doing something like this to Professor Snape.

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Professor McGonagall said we could borrow supplies."

She blinked at that. Daphne hadn't brought anything potions-related back with her, well aware Professor Snape refused to teach household-level potions. She didn't even have a cauldron! "It's okay, really…"

Harry, whose pace was so fast she had to power-walk just to keep up, came to a sudden halt in the middle of the corridor. "Be honest with me - do you want to take this class? If you say no, that's fine, I won't push this."

There was no hesitation in her reply. "I want this."

"Good, because I couldn't bear the thought of finding a new brewing partner."

They were both smiling, and now he held her hand rather than pulled her along. Their pace was slower, more relaxed. She was more relaxed, able to pretend - even if only for the moment - that everything was alright, that she was just a normal girl with her normal boyfriend.

The new Potions professor - Slughorn, Harry reminded her - was in the process of unpacking a case of wine when approached the open door to his office. Daphne recognised the labels on a few of the bottles from her own parents' collection.

"Professor?"

"O-ho! Harry, come in, come in!"

"Is this a bad time, sir?"

"Not at all, just arranging a few comforts to enjoy during my stay." He examined the bottle in his hand, then offered Harry a sly grin. "I'd thought it would take a bit more effort after you refused my invitation on the Express, but I should have known you were only biding your time for a more lengthy interaction!"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "Er, I never got any invitation, sorry."

"We had the shades down in our compartment," Daphne interjected, partly to bail out Harry and partly to remind their new professor there were two people visiting him.

Slughorn swiveled his gaze towards her, smile widening. "Say nothing more, I understand completely. As I told Harry, I taught here for many years, I'm very familiar with students sneaking off to spend time alone."

"This is Daphne Greengrass, she's why I came to see you."

"Greengrass, eh? You're the spitting image of Ava Rosier, with Cecil's hair, of course. If my memory serves me, I seem to recall your mother was absolutely smitten with your father from the moment they were Sorted."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, why I recall one time, it must have been '74, when-"

"Sir, we actually came to ask if Daphne could have your permission to join NEWT Potions. She didn't realise her OWL scores made her eligible."

"I suppose we could squeeze her in, perhaps in the seat next to your own?" Slughorn chortled happily. "It's normally the other way around, boys trying to impress girls with their academic achievements."

"She doesn't need to impress me. Daphne's an excellent student."

Slughorn's smile was disarming, like Harry defending her was precisely the response he wanted. "You'll be needing supplies, then?"

"NEWT Potions with cast-off equipment? I don't think so. My father will send anything we require," Daphne said, wincing a moment later at the way that came out. She hadn't brandished her family's means in years, but something about this new professor brought it out of her.

"I'll take the supplies here, thanks." She spun around to look at Harry, to reassure him it would be fine - she'd simply lie and say it was for Pansy, after all - but the words wouldn't come. Harry was staring at her, and for all he tried to keep his expression passive, she could see the pity fighting it's way to the surface.

It wasn't that surprising, she thought to herself with a sour feeling, that Harry wouldn't want the largesse of abusive parents. She silently tracked him while he, at Slughorn's direction, pulled a battered textbook out of a storage cabinet, along with a set of scales so worn they didn't look stable enough to weigh a sugar cube.

"Well, thanks very much. I guess we'll see you tomorrow for class, then…" Harry said, edging towards the door with his borrowed supplies underneath one arm.

She didn't know why she did it. Maybe it was because there was still more than an hour until curfew and Daphne had nowhere else to go. Maybe some part of her was still smarting from owning up to her poor exam scores.

Or, she admitted, perhaps it had something to do with not wanting to be alone with Harry while her parents were at the forefront of his thoughts. Regardless, before he reached the door, she took a step forward and remarked, "That's an excellent year for Barolo, sir."

Slughorn looked down at the bottle he held. "My favourite vintage. I don't suppose you'd care to join me for a taste?"

"We'd love to!" She glanced at Harry, and after a moment he plastered on a very false smile and nodded.

"Now, just a smidge," he said, passing a hefty pour to each of them with exaggerated winks. "It wouldn't very well do for Minerva to think I'm promoting underage drinking!"

In contrast to Harry, who awkwardly shifted his borrowed supplies while accepting his glass, Daphne sipped hers and settled into one of the seats across from their professor's desk. "Come, join us, Harry!"

For all that the impromptu conversation was intended as a distraction, Daphne couldn't help but enjoy chatting with the new Potions professor. Horace Slughorn was entertaining, full of anecdotes about interesting individuals and years past.

He was also perhaps the most Slytherin man Daphne had ever encountered. Slughorn made a very ill-disguised attempt to charm Harry, full of tales of Lily Potter's successes and tribulations during her school years. At first, she thought him a fool; anyone who'd any meaningful time around Harry Potter knew he wasn't one to enjoy attention paid to his celebrity. But by the time they finished their wine, when Slughorn held up the bottle in a questioning gesture, Harry was the first to slide his glass across the desk for a refill.

Understanding slowly dawned on her. He'd realised that Harry - with more than five years of fame thrust upon him - had his hackles up over attempts to use him in such a manner. 'And why wouldn't he?' Daphne thought, politely refusing another glass for herself. He endured more than his share of suffering over his notoriety. Recognising someone with a hidden agenda must be second nature by now. Yet Slughorn was crafty, quick to adapt in the face of resistance.

"-named Cynthia Marble, one of your mother's closest friends during their first three years at Hogwarts. Naturally, she'd have many more stories to tell about Lily's introduction to the wizarding world."

Daphne eyed Harry, seeing him hesitate for a moment before grasping the proffered bait. "Are you still in contact with her?"

"But of course!" Slughorn let out a booming laugh. "In fact, now that I'm teaching again, I've considered hosting the occasional get-together now and again, and introduce some of my old students with my new ones. I'm sure Cynthia would be delighted to attend, provided she knew you'd be there."

"Right," Harry said slowly. "Maybe."

"If my memory serves, dear Cynthia ended up at Witch Weekly as an illustrator. I suspect she'll likely ask for an interview." Harry's expression grew stormy, but Slughorn smoothly continued, "No surprise she ended up there! She was always up-to-date on the latest trends; it's how she got Sirius Black to date her their entire Fifth Year." Slughorn was remarkably well-informed, Daphne thought to herself.

And just like that, Harry's reticence vanished. "I'd really like to meet her."

A consummate Slytherin. Daphne got the feeling she'd learn a lot from Horace Slughorn, and not just about potioneering.

"I'll reach out to her, then. Now, you two have class tomorrow, and I fear curfew is fast approaching."

They said their farewells, and Daphne sneaked a glance at Harry while they walked through the corridors. He looked pensive.

"Are you alright?"

"Hm? Yea, fine."

She linked her arm through his, leading him towards the staircase. "I need to send a letter; walk me to the Owlery?"

Harry pressed a brief kiss to the side of her head, and they walked quietly through the halls for a few minutes. "So what did you think of Slughorn?"

"You know he's just trying to use you, right?"

He laughed. "Yea. Dumbledore warned me during the summer."

She dug around for some parchment and a quill, then handed her bag to Harry to hold while she scribbled a quick note to her mother, asking for a rushed delivery of brewing supplies. Once she attached the letter to a school owl, Harry passed her bag back.

"So… why go along with it, then?"

"The thing is- I mean, everyone's always trying to trick me into doing what they want. Lockhart, Fudge, Skeeter; hell, even Umbridge, back when she thought I might help her against Dumbledore. But Slughorn didn't try to hide what he wanted and what he offered. It felt- I don't know, more honest, if that makes sense. Like he was treating me with respect, rather than assuming I was some naive kid."

Honesty. Daphne took a deep breath, gazing at his moonlit features. "Harry-"

He interrupted her with a kiss. "We're going to have to hustle if we want to make it back to our dorms before curfew."

"Oh. Right, yeah."

Black Lake was still, in the early morning it was so calm and peaceful. It spread to where she sat at the shore. Daphne woke early, leaving the dorms before her roommates got up. She had a quick breakfast in the kitchens before venturing outside. No sense in enjoying the outdoors, before the weather inevitably turned unpleasant. With Harry and most of the others in NEWT Defense, she had nowhere to be.

Hidden behind her bed's curtains and a Silencing Charm, she'd conferred with Elysant the night before. Like always, her ancestor shared none of Daphne's concerns about the present state of affairs. The war, the prophecy, her Housemates, her courses; all were secondary, nonessential issues to the acidic portrait.

'Focus on what matters, child. You're fighting for your sister's life, and it's a battle you're currently winning,' Elysant said.

So why did she feel like she was drowning?

"I should think it's a bit early in the term for a student to stare solemnly into the horizon," a familiar, cheerful voice said behind her.

Daphne turned around, running a tired hand over her face. "Good morning, Headmaster."

"Good morning to you, as well. While it's unfortunate you weren't able to test into many NEWT courses, I do hope you'll put your free periods to more productive use in the coming months."

"Maybe I felt like skiving the first day."

"Professor Slughorn will be most disappointed to hear that, then. He has quite the production planned for his first class."

She eyed him suspiciously. "How'd you know I switched into NEWT Potions? I only asked him last night!"

"I told you, over the summer, that you've caught my attention. You'll need to work a little harder should you attempt to hide something from me, Miss Greengrass." He gestured for her to accompany him with his gloved hand. "However, in this case it took little effort on my part to determine your schedule change. If you'll follow me?"

Daphne did so, trying not to drag her feet while they walked back to the castle. As though she didn't already have enough to deal with! Dumbledore didn't try to make any further conversation along the way, merely walking in silence and occasionally spearing her with an inquisitive glance. They ascended the staircase to his office, where a gleaming collection of potions equipment and a brand new copy of Advanced Potion-Making sat on his desk.

"I once again find myself acting as an ancient, overgrown post-owl," the Headmaster said in an amused voice, passing over a sealed envelope bearing her mother's handwriting. "Forgive the intrusion, but all packages are opened to be scanned for dark magic."

"I see. I trust my school supplies didn't set off any alarms?"

"Indeed."

Daphne pulled her wand from her sleeve and muttered "Reducio" to shrink down the materials. "Is that all?"

"It is. Good luck with your first week of classes."

Once she was out of his office, Daphne unsealed the letter.

Daphne,

Your father and I are so proud of you for adding another NEWT-level course to your schedule. We purchased the best supplies available for you. Do your best, and be sure to keep up with your study in other subjects as well as you're able. Your father spoke with the Wizarding Examination Authority; if you retake your OWLs over Yule, you can jump into NEWT classes in the other subjects after break. I know you can do it!

Love, Mum and Dad

P.S. Give Pansy our best

She didn't know how to feel. On one hand, enthusiastic support was certainly welcome, especially after the knock-down drag-out fights over her OWL scores before the term began. On the other, the dig about her former best friend remaining on their payroll, all the while Draco was making overt threats hardly felt right.

Daphne slid down the wall outside the Headmaster's office, crumpling the letter in her hands and burying her head in her arms. She just needed one thing, something or someone that unconditionally supported her. It was so hard to shoulder all of this, to bear this load by herself!

Her breath hitched, just once, but she stifled the sob and carefully brushed away the tears welling up in her eyes. It was fine. She could handle this.

Wiping her eyes one last time, she stuffed the letter in her pocket and pulled herself to her feet. Time to get ready for Potions.

"Welcome, welcome! What a delight to once again stand before such bright, inquisitive minds!" Slughorn greeted with a wide smile. "Shall we get right to it? Potions kits out, books open!"

Daphne, partnered with Harry at a table with him, Ron, and Hermione, pulled out the equipment she'd received earlier. She looked mournfully at the beat-up cauldron, dull paring knife, and rusted scales in front of Harry.

"By the end of next year, you'll be fully qualified to brew most advanced potions, including these I've prepared before you today. Now, can anyone tell me what it's in this one, here?" The students all craned their necks to peer at the colourless liquid inside the first cauldron at the front of the class. "Yes, you in the front row."

"It's Veritaserum, sir!"

"Correct! Take five points to Gryffindor Miss…" he trailed off expectantly.

"Granger, sir."

"Who can tell me what this next one is?" The second cauldron was a thick, dark, muddy paste that was slowly bubbling.

Hermione's hand shot into the air once more, but to Daphne's surprise, both Ron and Harry's weren't far behind. "Let's give someone else a shot, shall we? No introductions needed for a Weasley!"

Ron's face flushed slightly, but his answer was confident. "That's Polyjuice."

"O-ho, I see Gryffindor came prepared! Five points, Mr. Weasley. This one's a little more difficult, but let's give another House a chance." The third cauldron, giving off spiral trails of smoke, was intimately familiar to her, so Daphne raised her hand. "Yes? Go ahead, Miss Greengrass."

"It's Amortentia, sir."

"Exactly! Five points to Slytherin! I trust you recognised its mother-of-pearl sheen, yes?" She gave a weak smile and nodded her head. "This is widely regarded as the most powerful love potion. Something of a misnomer, I'm afraid, as the feelings it produces should never be mistaken for actual love."

Slughorn looked around the class, as though imparting the seriousness of that statement, then waved his wand and sent the cauldron floating through the aisles of the laboratory. "There's another distinctive tell when it comes to Amortentia, can anyone guess?"

Distracted smiles appeared on most of her classmates' faces as the potion floated by. As the cauldron bobbed next to her table, Daphne took a deep breath, feeling a blissful sensation accompanying the scent of broom polish, summer breezes, and a familiar, earthy undertone.

"Go ahead, Miss Granger."

"Amortentia smells like what attracts us, what we desire most."

"Very good. All right everyone, turn to page ten, we'll be giving the Draught of Living Death a go today-"

"Sir?" Padma raised her hand. "What about the fourth cauldron?"

"Oh, this?" Slughorn feigned surprise, dipping a spoon into the last unnamed cauldron, filled with a shimmering golden liquid. "I suppose I didn't give Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff a fair shake. For ten points, can one of you identify this?"

The four Ravenclaws huddled together, briefly conferring with each other while the Hufflepuffs collectively shrugged. "Is it… Liquid Luck?" Su Li asked hesitantly.

"Very well done, my dear! Indeed, this is Felix Felicis, a luck potion. Incredibly difficult to brew, but it guarantees good fortune for anyone under its influence. Things will seem to miraculously go your way with but a sip of Liquid Luck, making it well worth the expense and labour. I've had the luxury of drinking it twice in my life. Two perfect, magnificent days."

He stared into the distance as though in a pleasant daydream, then refocused on the class. "And that is what the person who brews the best potion today will receive. A perfect day - twelve hours, enough from dawn to dusk - to have everything work out exactly as it should." A collective gasp rippled through the laboratory. "You may begin!"

There were a few murmurs here and there, but for the most part everyone was quiet, hyper-focused on their work. In between cutting and stirring, Daphne glanced over to check on Harry's progress. She was dismayed to see him squinting at the used textbook he'd received the night before, the pages criss-crossed with scribbled handwritten comments.

"Why don't you share my book? That one's barely legible," she whispered.

"It's fine," he muttered, then stubbornly proceeded to stir in the incorrect direction.

"It's not fine!" she hissed. "You need a good grade in this class if you want to get into the DMLE! Here, just let me help you."

She leaned over and closed his book, plopping her own on top of it between them. "Wait- why'd you do that?!" Harry stilled his stirring, shoving her copy aside and scrambling with his own book to get back to the right page. By the time he did, his potion was smoking ominously. "You've ruined it!"

"I didn't, you weren't following the directions!"

"Don't fret, Mr. Potter, it's common to get tripped up on that part of the brewing process," Slughorn commented, walking around to observe the class's progress. "How are we doing back here, boys?"

She heard Zabini grunt in reply, then Draco quietly mention a relative acquainted with Slughorn. Their new professor wasn't impressed. "Yes, I do recall him. Your potion's looking good, Mr. Malfoy, stay focused," came his disinterested reply.

Daphne did her best to follow the book's direction, but Harry's frustrated glare didn't help, and before long her own potion was a semi-solid gloop. Ron thumped her boyfriend on the shoulder. "Relax, mate, it's a lost cause all around, I think."

"Speak for yourself, Weasley," Hermione muttered, and sure enough, when Slughorn called the period to an end, it was her potion that was the closest to the light pink colour the Draught was supposed to be. She proudly pocketed the small vial of Felix Felicis.

"I'm really sorry," Daphne said as they walked out of the classroom. "I shouldn't have- I didn't mean to get in your way."

"It's fine," Harry said, exhaling with a loud huff before smiling and taking her hand. "At least Malfoy didn't win. I've got a lot of practice at being outdone by Hermione over the years. If you want, you can make it up to me, though."

"Oh?" Being instantly forgiven made it easy to return his smile.

He pulled her to a halt, hands resting lightly on her hips while hers slipped behind his neck. "Let's go to the library after dinner. I missed you this morning."

"You missed me? But we hung out til curfew just last night!"

He laughed at her teasing. "I know, feels like it was ages ago, doesn't it?"

"Let's go, I'm starved!" Ron called out from up ahead.

Daphne let him go, but Harry held onto her for a moment longer, briefly leaning towards her and slowly inhaling against her hair. She stilled, freezing in place.

"Harry, c'mon!"

"I'll see you later," he said, with one last smile before running to catch up with his friends. "Oi! Keep your pants on, Weasley!"

She watched him go, unconsciously twirling an ebony lock around her finger.

"What are you doing here?"

Daphne half-turned, curling the tips of her hair with her wand. "I needed to shower and get changed."

"Shouldn't you be leading your half-blood around by his leash?" Pansy had her hands on her hips, standing at the entrance to their bathroom.

Daphne pursed her lips and didn't reply, looking back at her reflection and pretending to touch-up her cosmetics until Pansy left. She thought she'd be able to get in and out of her dorm room before the others got back from dinner, but apparently she'd miscalculated. Grabbing her school bag, she slunk out of the bathroom and down to the common room. Frances Rowle, Jaina Mulciber, and Theodore Nott stared silently, their gaze dogging her steps as she slipped out into the dungeons.

She did her best to put her Housemates out of her mind, choosing instead to focus on the excitement at seeing Harry. Her enthusiastic greeting when she reached the library was mostly sincere, even.

"Hey." Daphne ignored both his friends and the open seat next to him, slipping directly onto Harry's lap.

She heard Ron laugh. "Like I said, you've got more important things to worry about. Keeping your girlfriend happy, for example."

Curling herself more closely against him, Daphne turned and acknowledged Ron and Hermione. "What's he worried about?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, but unlike last term, her tone wasn't snide or guarded. "Harry's chasing shadows."

She felt him tense beneath her. "It's not nothing. He's up to something. Daphne understands, she knows him better than any of us."

"Who?"

"Malfoy." It took considerable effort to keep her expression neutral. "When's the last time he left us alone? He's preoccupied, distracted. We've got to figure out what he's up to!"

Daphne turned away, pretending to pull at a loose thread on Harry's shirt. "Uh… I don't know. He's always got some silly scheme in the works, doesn't he?"

"See?" This argument had been ongoing for a while, judging by Hermione's exasperated tone.

"Haven't I earned the benefit of the doubt?" Harry asked angrily. "Remind me again, when was the last time we made it through a year in this castle without almost dying?"

"That doesn't mean you're always right, though," Hermione said. "I mean, it's Malfoy."

Ron snickered. "If he acts up, 'Mione'll just pop him in the mouth again."

No one else laughed. Hermione's fingers curled around the book she held, squeezing it tightly. "I'm not saying you haven't had good reason to be cautious, but you've been a little- I mean, since Sirius-"

Harry went completely still beneath Daphne. "Go on then, Hermione. Speak your mind."

Even Ron looked uncomfortable now, fidgeting while Hermione chose her words. "All I'm saying- all we're saying is you should be focused on other things. Like your lesson this weekend with the Headmaster."

"Dumbledore is training you?"

"Why don't we let them have some time alone?" Ron said, standing up and offering to take Hermione's bag, though he groaned under its weight as soon as he did. "Oof! You realise you don't have to carry every book you own everywhere you go, right?"

"Quit whining! I carry that bag all day long, what does it say about you that you're complaining the second you pick it up?"

"That I might not be as dumb as everyone thinks," Ron immediately shot back, before grinning at the two still seated. "Remember, quidditch tryouts are tomorrow, don't stay out too late!"

Once they were alone, Harry gave her a gentle squeeze before shifting her to the empty seat next to him. "I don't understand why they all of the sudden think I'm paranoid. If anyone should understand where I'm coming from, it's those two!"

"What makes you so sure about Draco?" Harry quickly recounted following her Housemate into Knockturn Alley over the summer, and the conversation he eavesdropped on. "I see."

"I need you to believe me, Daphne. Please."

This was her chance. All she needed to do was tell him Hermione was right, there was nothing to worry about. A few simple words, and she'd have the freedom and safety she needed to save Astoria.

But the really important things in life were never that easy. "I believe you."

Harry let out a heavy sigh, grabbing hold of her hand while a huge smile lit his features. "Thank you."

"So what's the deal with you and the Headmaster? You didn't tell me he was giving you private lessons."

"My first one's Saturday. I don't really know what to expect." He was still smiling, and Daphne was suffused in warmth. She'd made him this happy. "Want to get out of here?"

Already? "Oh. I guess, I mean, if you need to head back to your dorm I can just get started on our Potions homework."

"No! I meant, do you want to get out of here with me? But if you want to do some studying, I'm fine with that, too. Beats listening to Ron obsess over tryouts tomorrow."

"Lead the way." Hand in hand, they left the library, Harry leading her through the corridors. "So Weasley's trying out for the team, then? For what position?"

"Ron's going for keeper, and I think Ginny's going to give chasing a shot."

"Really?" She tried to keep her voice light, unaffected. "Ron must be a good brother, to let his little sister tag along with everything he does."

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't let her hear you say that. She's a real spitfire." He started to tell a story about the Weasley girl assaulting some Hufflepuff on the Express. Daphne didn't find either the recollection or the way he laughed about it amusing. "You're saying you wouldn't let your sister hang out with your friends?"

Stewing in her irritation, she ignored his question and kept walking even after Harry abruptly came to a halt. "Huh? What's the matter?" He stood in front of a door, cracking it open to take a peek inside. "Is that a- a broom closet?"

His face flushed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, yea. I thought, uh, it might be a good place to have a private chat."

She liked the sound of that very much, immediately transported back to her imaginings at the end of the previous term. "Okay."

Though the interior of this one was the same as the one she'd found Harry's Firebolt in, having him there with her was a radically different experience. They were pressed tightly against one another, every movement he made brushing against her body by virtue of the limited space. Daphne had never been so consciously aware of him in such a tactile sense. It was… exciting.

Harry whispered a Silencing Charm, tracing the doorframe, then blinded them both when he cast a Lumos. "Sorry," he muttered, quickly extinguishing the light. "I guess we don't need to see each other to talk."

"Do we even need to talk?" she asked, fingers tracing a path up his neck that her lips followed.

"We do."

She blinked in the darkness. "About what?" she asked warily.

"I like you a lot. I really like you." 'What was this?' "On my birthday, when you asked- when we talked about the prophecy, I wasn't completely honest. I mean, it is vital that Voldemort not find out the whole thing, but I also… I was afraid you might not want me anymore if you knew. That you might figure you're better off being shot of me and this- this whole fucking mess I call my life."

Daphne stood on tip-toes, pressing her forehead against his. "I'm not going anywhere. Maybe I didn't bring it up in the right way over the summer, but the thing I'm scared of is losing you. Do you really think I could just walk away? No matter what, even if you have to fight the Dark Lord in single combat, I'll be at your side."

A strangled sound rose from his throat, and she couldn't discern whether it was amusement or anguish.

"It's funny you'd say that."

"No," she whispered. "No! It can't be!"

Her knees were suddenly made of rubber, legs too wobbly to hold her up but Harry was there, easily supporting her. "It's okay-"

"How?" she asked. "How is it okay? You haven't even graduated- oh, gods. This is what the lessons are about? Dumbledore- he's going to march you off to war, just like that?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. He's got a plan, I'm sure of it. We talked last term, and… and he believes in me, believes I can win."

"You should- we can run. My father was born in Helsinki, there's got to be some family friends still there. We'll be safe, we can hide-"

"Daphne." His voice was calm. "I'm not leaving. He has to be stopped."

"Don't do this. Please-" her tears choked off any further pleas for sanity.

"Shh," Harry cradled her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "It's okay. Now, listen carefully. The prophecy was given the year I was born. You obviously know some of it, but-"

He took a deep breath, quietly reciting from memory, "And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not. Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives."

"This power… do you know what it is?"

"Um, I'm not sure. Dumbledore has some ideas."

She couldn't muster the energy to call him out on falling back on vague responses, too in shock from what she'd learned. "These ideas, they're what you'll be working on with him?"

"Probably. I think so, at least."

"Okay." Daphne took several deep breaths, running her hands over him, needing to touch him, feel him, a mad desperation overtaking her. "Okay."

"Are you alrigh- mm!" He stumbled backwards - as much as possible in the cramped closet - when she latched her mouth to his.

There was no finesse to her kiss, no teasing or tasting. Daphne couldn't explain the aggressive need she felt, positive only that she had to assure herself he wasn't going anywhere, that he was safe so long as he was in her arms. Time seemed to still, the world outside this confined space ceasing to exist. She lost herself in the sensation, the feel of him against her. He was safe, as long as they stayed here, in this tiny refuge.

Harry matched her intensity, meeting her frantic touches with his own, breath hot against her throat as he sucked gently beneath her jawline. She needed more, wanted him in ways she'd never imagined she'd feel. Her skirt rode up as he pressed her against the door, her leg curling around his waist to pull him tighter, harder-

The door suddenly opened, and they tumbled out of the broom closet, falling to the unforgiving castle floor.

"Ugh, gross, I could've done without seeing that."

"I don't know, Parkinson, seems like there's an unanticipated benefit to prefect duties," another familiar voice drawled.

"If you don't look away, she'll be the last thing you ever see," Harry ground out, jumping to his feet and pulling Daphne behind him. She belatedly realised one strap of her dress was dangling at her elbow, her brassiere clearly visible.

"What are you doing here?"

"Patrolling. It's almost an hour past curfew, which you're currently in violation of," Pansy replied, disgusted sneer still curling her lips.

'How long were we in there?' she idly wondered, straightening her clothes and running a quick hand through the tangles in her hair. "Well, what's Zabini doing here?"

"Malfoy turned in his badge," he answered, eyebrow raised at her dishevelled state. "Professor Snape gave me his spot."

"Speaking of," Pansy said, "I think he'd be interested to know what you've been doing. This way."

They followed mutely, Harry buttoning up and tucking in his shirt as her Housemates marched them to the dungeons. Despite the hour, Professor Snape was seated at his office desk, reading over various pieces of parchment. He glanced up, nodding along as Pansy explained the circumstances she'd found them, then dismissed his prefects to continue their patrol.

"So. Flouting the rules again, Potter? I suppose you've started taking the nonsense the Prophet spouts off about you for fact, then?"

"It wasn't his fault, Prof-"

"Silence. Fifty points from Gryffindor, and I think I'll add another day to the detention you're already serving for your cheek in class this morning."

"Fine."

"You're dismissed back to your dormitory."

"What about Daphne?"

The look Snape gave him was as dry as the Sahara. "I believe Miss Greengrass has her own bed to sleep in."

"I'm not leaving her here with you."

"Then I'll have another fifty points for your insolence. Despite what others may think, there's nothing special about you, Potter. Get out of my office, or I'll have you in detention every night for the next month."

Harry made no move to leave, instead crossing his arms and glaring at her Head of House.

"It's okay, Harry, I'm fine, really. I'll see you at breakfast."

He grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Together?"

A fluttery feeling exploded in her chest at the thought of sharing a meal and getting a precious few more minutes with him. "I'd like that."

He nodded, casting one more suspicious look at Professor Snape as he left, the door swinging shut behind him.

The newly-minted DADA professor leaned back in his chair. "Twenty points to Slytherin."

It took her a moment for her brain to re-engage her mouth for a response. "Sir?"

"Your dedication to your mission, extending even to such distasteful circumstances as these is truly admirable. You deserve more than House points for enduring what you have."

"Do you mean- are you talking about my Housemates? I try to stay out of their way, tonight notwithstanding."

His coal-black eyes narrowed. "No. I referred to you putting up with Potter's no-doubt fumbling gropes for your sister's sake."

"Oh." She felt her face heat up. "He's… he isn't who I thought he was."

"Is that so?" She nodded, chancing a glance at his face, seeing his eyes lock onto her own. A dull headache formed, but even the discomfort wasn't enough to repress her thoughts about Harry, confiding in her, trusting her…

Professor Snape cleared his throat and looked away. "Miss Greengrass- Daphne. It would be best if you were to remain focused on the task at hand, and keep other, ah, distractions at arm's length."

"Sir? I don't understand."

"In the real world, there are no happy endings. Don't forget, while you save Astoria, to guard yourself. You are young, but the wounds left by love lost do not heal."

"What are you saying?" She couldn't make sense of his cryptic statement.

"I'm telling you- begging you to act like a Slytherin. Potter will no doubt face his destiny like a true Gryffindor-" for the first time, Snape made that sound noble, "-and you need to be certain you're ready for that eventuality. Self-preservation, Miss Greengrass. A cardinal trait."

"Professor, I-" Daphne fell silent. There was something lurking beneath the surface of his words, something horrible, but she didn't know how to suss it out.

She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"You should get back to the dorms. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sir."

She shut his office door and started the short walk back to the common room.

"Hey, you alright?" Harry's disembodied head appeared out of the ether, floating alongside her, and Daphne was barely able to contain a shriek of surprise.

"Merlin! I nearly wet myself!"

He grinned. "Sorry." Pulling the invisibility cloak the rest of the way off, Harry fell into step beside her. "Snape wasn't too hard on you, was he?"

"Uh, no. Probably doesn't want to damage Slytherin's chances at the House Cup."

"Figures."

Daphne took his hand, winding her other arm around his. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you change your mind? About telling me the- you-know-what."

Illuminated by the torches in the corridor, she couldn't miss the way his features softened, the tiny smile that flashed across his face. "You'll think I'm silly."

"I won't!"

"Yes, you will. It's so corny you'll lose all respect for me."

"Oh, hush," she slapped his arm. "Just tell me already. We both know I've got you wrapped around my finger."

Harry laughed quietly at that, his smile lingering even as he stared ahead, assiduously avoiding her gaze. "It was today's lesson, in Potions." He used his free hand to touch a strand of her hair, playing with it for a moment before tucking it behind her ear. "The potion? The one that reveals what we desire most."

The fluttering from before was back, but now with the strength of a hurricane. "Yes?"

"Oh, here we are." He pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek, then another into her hair. "This is your stop. I'll see you in the morning, yea?" He swirled the invisibility cloak around himself, disappearing from view.

The Amortentia… it was her. She'd done it. She'd actually done it!

"Goodnight, Harry," she softly called out.

A/N: First things first, big thank you's go out to gamer0890 (who has several H/Fleur fics on FFN you should go check out) and discord user Moron (a web novel author) for editing this chapter. Can't tell you how nice it was to have someone else do it for once! Thanks!

I've got this idea for another fic (as though I need more), a sort-of homage to "Marriage of Convenience" by DorotheaGreengrass. I'm thinking I'd rather have it be H/Hannah Abbott (because I don't have any stories with that pairing), but idk. I've got a lot of WIPs going, and I should be focusing on my original works.

Next up is an update for A Straight Flush. Love that story so much. AMR will slide to the backburner for a bit, bc the next chapter is going to heavier than a black hole (is that an apt comparison? Popped into my head and i figured, 'why not?'). I'd like to check WSW off and get my Mandy Brocklehurst fic ("Burying the Lede") and my Katie Bell fic ("Failing Upward") published before I come back to this one. But who knows? I might get bored and just blast out another chapter of Malignant Ruse on a whim. We'll see.

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles