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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

September 1st,

Platform 9 3/4

Daphne was sure she was in love as she watched Harry Potter enter the train station.

He had been the target of her obsession since 4th year. The bravery he had shown during the tournament had won her heart completely. She'd made do with little conversations and attempts at flirting since then.

And then, Astoria happened.

Of course she couldn't help herself, and had decided, in her infinite wisdom, that this was the perfect time to confess her own feelings to Ginny Weasley.

The two girls had been joined at the lips ever since, and it was all doomed. Everything was doomed.

Now, her sister was dating the ex-girlfriend of Harry Potter.

But with this being a redo of the final year, she had to make a move. And she had to do it now.

Icy blue eyes followed his every move. The way his arms moved when he walked and the careless way he pushed the sleeves of his jumper up over his forearms. His veins alone were so erotic, they felt like something that would have been written by Shakespeare himself.

Daphne wiped the little bit of drool from her mouth, glancing around before realizing there really was no one paying that close of attention to her. Sure, superficial looks were thrown her way, she was universally known as the prettiest girl in school, but none of her friends were here, nobody was paying that close of attention to her.

It worked for the best, she supposed, that she was head girl. It meant one roommate. Only one person who could possibly be an annoyance to her, maybe they could be friends though? With Tracey gone, all she really had was Astoria. So maybe she could make a new fri-

There was absolutely no fucking way. Harry fucking Potter was head boy. Because of course he was. He had the badge pinned to his jumper as if he didn't want to lose it. Merlin this would be awkward, given the fact that she was unable to stop drooling just looking at him. And he was of course followed by Ron and Hermione seemingly at every step.

She hurriedly stepped onto the train, ignoring the looks from several of the 6th and 7th year boys. As she did, she bundled her hair up into a messy bun, letting the sides hang loose.

She had to make it to the prefect's compartment, where of course she'd meet Harry.

For nearly anyone else, it was no big deal to show off little emotions, being the cold and calculating slytherin that everyone expected from her. But with Harry, she already knew this would be difficult. Especially when as she opened the door to the compartment it was just him inside, his jumper off and wearing a tight black t-shirt.

Merlin help her.

“H-Hey.” Daphne said in a quiet voice, eyes meeting his for the briefest second before dropping to her shoes. She flushed a bit and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, trying not to resemble a blushing schoolgirl.

“Hey Greengrass. I should have known you'd be head girl.”

—

Harry was sure he was in love the second he saw her step onto the platform. He'd known it deep in his heart since he was 11 years old and he'd watched her sorted into Slytherin, hugging her brunette friend as she sat and shot him a flash of a grin.

She'd never given him weird looks during the time he’d been accused as the heir, casting sympathetic looks instead. She'd been one of the few people who hadn't worried about his status, willingly partnering with him on a few occasions, though she always seemed very awkward and clumsy which was odd given her poise with seemingly everyone else.

In third year they'd been potions partners through the entire year. It solidified a bond, though just one as acquaintances. Fourth year had her refusing the ‘Potter Stinks’ badges from Draco. And all of the years after that, she'd done nothing but support him, going so far as to visit him in the hospital wing.

She'd always been a name he watched on the map during the horcrux hunt, unable to keep himself from it. It was hard not to when his ex girlfriend's name continuously popped up on the map extremely close to Daphne's little sister. It made sense since they were from the same year, but it gave Harry a weird feeling anyway.

“Harry, you've got to stop drooling.” Hermione reprimanded, “She's not gonna talk to you if you're continuously open mouth staring.”

“Daphne may be into that.” Ron mentioned offhand, “The two of you get along pretty well.”

“I thought you hated Slytherins, Ron.” Hermione teased, earning a glare from the redhead, “Or is it different because her sister is dating your's?”

“It's different not only because we're basically in-laws…” Ron glared at Hermione making all of them chuckle, “But because Daphne and I both have been in the chess league together since first year. Bonds made in chess go beyond house rivalries.”

Harry laughed awkwardly, still watching her. “Maybe she'll think it's cool that I'm Head Boy.”

“Keep dreaming, Head Boy.” Ron teased. “Go on and do your duties.”

Harry gave him a rather rude gesture and walked off towards the prefect's compartment, still dreaming about Daphne.

He tugged his jumper over his head, tossing it into the back of his chair as he sat down, rubbing his forearms and letting out a groan.

After everything they’d gone through, this was going to be a good year. He just knew it.

As he finished stretching, he heard the door open and a quiet, familiar voice greeting him.

And there she was. The goddess he’d been quietly pining for. In the flesh.

Harry fought to not drool as she stood in front of him in her cute little sweater, icy blue and fuzzy. The colour matched her eyes.

Her hair was in a bun, her makeup lightly done and standing just barely shorter than him. She looked utterly kissable and he fought the urge to do just that.

“Hey, Greengrass. I should have known you'd be Head Girl.”

“Why is that?” Daphne asked, head slightly tilted. The light hit her lips just right and it took Harry the barest second to get his brain under control.

“Because you're the most brilliant Slytherin I know.” Daphne smiled prettily at the compliment, flushing and tucking hair behind her ear.

“And when did you get so charming, Potter? Did you flirt your way into being Head Boy too?” she teased.

“I didn't, uh…” Harry was flustered but still grinning, “So, I was thinking… Times have been dour. Maybe we could set up a Halloween, Yule, and Valentines Ball. You know, lighten the mood and give students things to look forward to.”

Daphne appreciated the change of subject as she kicked her shoes off and fell into her seat next to him. “Ooh. It’ll promote some form of school unity. Maybe the first two could be for everyone, with the Valentine's one being just for the upper years?”

They talked about possibilities for other activities for a long time, their knees just barely touching. Daphne loved the entire exchange, and appreciated the passion that Harry had for bringing some unity to the school.

The new prefects came in an hour or so later, and they ran through the usuals of restricted items, prefect rounds and the like. The subject of the dances were brought up and all prefects seemed to like the idea, with the Hufflepuffs putting more ideas in the mix, such as holding fundraisers for them.

Finally they finished up and the other prefects left their carriage, leaving Harry and Daphne alone again.

“You're a born leader, Potter.” Daphne said, shooting him a smile.

“You are too. You definitely make this whole head boy thing easy.” Daphne flushed at the praise, loving every bit of it.

“I keep you around, Potter and I won't need to wear blush with the amount of compliments you give me.”

“Well it's good you're stuck with me for the year, then.” Harry quipped and both of them grinned at one another. “It's gonna be like one long potions lesson, just with less Snape and more talking without getting yelled at by him.”

—

The rest of the journey to the school had been a breeze, but the feast and getting the first years to their respective rooms took longer than they expected. Harry and Daphne hadn't even made it back to their shared common room until well past midnight, though they made sure to share glances and smiles the whole time.

Being Head Boy and Girl didn’t just come with extra work. It had its fair share of privileges too, such as the privacy afforded by their shared living space.

“This is cozy.” Daphne said as they stepped in and started to wander around. She casually slipped a pack of sterlings from her pocket and lit one.

“Greengrass, you better be sharing that with me.” He warned with a grin, causing the blonde to laugh as she kicked her shoes off and sat onto the couch.

Harry made a show of conjuring an ashtray and sat on the cushion next to her.

“Wine?” Daphne asked as she grabbed her purse, pulling a bottle of Moscato. She pulled the cork and took a long drink, wiping her mouth off before passing it to him. Daphne smiled as she watched him take a long drag of the cigarette and a drink from the bottle.

“Never thought I'd be here, ya know?” Harry asked.

“What? Being in the Head common room? With me?” Daphne teased as she stretched out, resting her feet on the table in front of them.

Harry coughed, smiling. “Er, the former. But that too. Mainly, I never thought I'd be alive this long. Especially not to enjoy some cigarettes and wine with the sister of my ex girlfriend's girlfriend.” He flashed her a smile.

“Glad that's all I am to you, Potter.” Daphne pretended to be hurt. “I know someone who isn't getting a Christmas present.”

“Take it back.” He teased, taking another drink and leaning into the couch.

“Never.”

The two went back and forth for hours, getting close enough with each other that, at some point neither had really noticed, they had slipped into using the other’s first name. By then, it was nearly two in the morning, and the bottle had long been emptied.

Daphne yawned. “I think it's time for me to go to bed.” She stood up, hissing at the cold floor she could feel even through her socks. “Night, Harry.”

Harry couldn't help but stare up after her, watching the way she tiptoed up the stairs and the gentle sway of her hips.

“Night, Daph.”

—

That night

Sleep hadn't gotten any easier since the war. Harry was up and down multiple times through the night, checking windows, shadows, and whatever else caught his sleep deprived eye.

The second nightmare was what really did him in. He could hear the sobs from upstairs in Malfoy Manor, with screams punctuating the sobs.

“I've gotta get up there.” He muttered, glancing at Ron as Ron covered his ears, crying quietly.

Harry had never been a man of inaction. He'd kept the knife Sirius had given him on the small of his back, usually hidden by his shirt. The Bowie knife was pulled and Harry waited next to the staircase.

Draco was the first victim, and as he stepped further into the room, Harry leapt from his cover of shadows, forcing the knife through Draco's throat. The gurgle was unlike anything Harry had heard before as he lowered the boy to the ground, his wand being taken out from his pocket and put in Potter's hand.

He tried not to stare at the viscera and blood splayed across the doorway, but Harry was unable to stop. He watched as the light slowly left his former schoolyard enemy's eyes.

With a shake of the head as if to clear his thoughts, Harry crept slowly up the stairs, a quietly crying Ron behind him as he held the wand up. They reached the top of the stairs and-

Harry woke with a gasp.. He could hear crying from the common room as he woke up. He lit a cigarette and pulled his sweatpants on, pushing his feet into his slippers. He stepped into the common room to see Daphne on the couch, quietly crying to herself.

“Daphne?” He yawned.

“S-Sorry, Harry. Just a bad dream. Please, go back to bed.” Daphne shivered and in an instant, Harry was sitting next to her.

“I’d rather not. I just had one too.” He said gently. “Need to talk?” Harry sat next to her and watched as she took a drag from the cigarette.

“It was just about the battle. Holding Tracey as she bled out after- after Dolohov and- and-” she sniffed, trying but failing to wipe her eyes. Harry's eyes glanced at the scars marring Daphne's thighs and wrists.

Daphne almost jumped a little as a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Mine was that night at Malfoy Manor.” He said quietly, “The first time I purposefully took a life.”

Daphne looked up to his face, seeing the haunted look there and wanting more than anything to make it go away, make him feel better. “Who…? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Malfoy had been helping Bellatrix keep Hermione under the Cruciatus Curse. I slit his throat.” Harry said simply and Daphne's hand found his, squeezing it. “I think about it a lot. Obsess over what I could have done differently. I don't think there's much I could have changed. Is it bad to say that I wouldn't have changed anything?”

Daphne shook her head, “There's nothing wrong with getting rid of evil, Harry. And Draco was evil. The things he did the first six years. The things he did to Pansy. And made her do the last year..” she trailed off and squeezed his hand.

Harry changed the subject subtly, “I know the battle here was hard. It was hard out there too. I respect and appreciate everything you did, you know that?”

Daphne nodded, leaning up to peck his cheek. Both their cheeks were on fire as she nestled against his chest, speaking softly, “You’re a sweetheart.”

The sleepless night caused both of them to forget about any inhibitions, holding each other for comfort against their collective bad dreams.

“Tomorrow is gonna be miserable for classes.” Harry mentioned offhand and Daphne raised a perfectly maintained eyebrow.

“No, it isn't. We don't have class until 11.”

“Thank Merlin.”

Daphne laughed at the sheer normalcy in his comment. She sniffed and wiped her eyes one more time before letting out a slow breath. “I don't know if I can go back to sleep.”

“We should try anyway. It's still early.” Harry said quietly, raising his hand and a second later, her blanket laid covering them. Daphne cuddled closer to his chest and yawned.

“Comfortable?” Harry asked and she nodded slowly fading into sleep.

—

When Harry woke up, he cast a quick Tempus charm and saw that they had an hour till class. With a gentle shake, he woke Daphne. “Daphne, it's an hour till class.”

Daphne yawned, stretching against him, a flush to her cheeks. “Thanks, Harry.”

And though she meant it as such, she also meant it as ‘Thanks-for-staying-with-me-and-not-letting-me-wallow-in-my-own-terror.’

“Anytime, princess.” Harry winked at her, teasing her with a name for royalty. She'd been called the Ice Queen for so many years, Harry had never understood it. Daphne was a quiet girl, sure. But she always gave him smiles, smirks, grins. He loved the expressions she'd constantly shoot his way.

Daphne smiled to herself, wondering if he'd still call her that if they were dating and merlin- why couldn't she stop thinking about this? She huffed against his chest, tickling his sides as she started to stand up. “You're a brat, Potter.”

“And you love it, Greengrass.” In one quick motion he stood up, tickling her hips and making her laugh out loud as he moved past her. “I'm gonna get ready. Meet you here in a few?”

“So sure that I want to hang out with- Oh.” Daphne was suddenly frowning, eyes wet with unshed tears as she realized that he and Ron and to a lesser extent Hermione, would be her only friends this year.

“What's wrong, Daph?” Harry asked, quickly hugging her as it seemed to work the previous night.

“Just the sudden realization that most of my friends are dead or gone from school.” Daphne sniffed as she pressed against his chest. “I guess that means I do need to hangout with you.” She muttered, trying to lighten the subject.

“Welcome to the golden trio. You're replacing Ron.”

“There's no way I can keep up with Weasley's eating habits.” Daphne said, laughing against his chest and smacking it lightly. “I'm going to shower and get the tears and wine off of me. You better not be joking about hanging out with me all day. I'm counting on you, Potter.”

“As if any guy would ever shrug off a chance to hang out with you all day.” He teased, winking at her and delighting himself with the way her cheeks seemed to redden almost instantly.

“Shut up, brat.” Daphne muttered, grinning as she pushed against his solid chest and made her way up to her bathroom.

Daphne could feel the stress and worry slowly easing itself out of her muscles and joints as she lathered up and washed the soap from her pale skin. She couldn't help but imagine the warm water was Harry's strong arms, his hands running down her, and…

Daphne physically shook her head, stopping herself.

“Merlin, this is gonna be a long day.” She muttered as the shampoo ran from her hair and down to her feet, temporarily covering the black polish on her toes. Harry had once complimented her black fingernails and she kept them painted impeccably ever since.

After finishing in the shower, making sure to condition twice, Daphne stepped out, drying off and began putting on her makeup. She added a little extra eyeliner and a little extra lip gloss compared to her usual. She took her time putting her hair up in a carefully crafted bun and looked herself over in the mirror.

Her school uniform was pulled on, making sure to pin her head girl badge on the chest of her outer robes.

Daphne smiled briefly in the mirror, making sure to spray herself a few times with her vanilla based perfume and stepped from the bathroom. She looked down and into the common room from the loft that held the upstairs bedrooms and the shared bathroom. Harry sat on the couch flipping through a book and casually waiting for her.

She couldn't help but feel her heart flutter seeing him waiting for her, his messy hair still slightly damp. She longed to run her fingers through his hair, to scratch his scalp. Daphne shivered at the thought as she stepped down the stairs, flushing just slightly at the way Harry's eyes lit up and he smiled.

“Wow, Daphne. You look great this morning.” Harry said, his voice more confident than normal as he looked at her appraisingly.

“Can barely tell I fell asleep on your chest for like, 6 hours, right?” Daphne countered, a grin on her lips, “You look quite handsome yourself.” Her hips swayed a little more that morning as they walked from the Head's common room, both grinning at one another.

—

It seemed only fitting, as Daphne went to class with Harry and the rest of the trio all morning, that she seemed to be paired in every class with him. It was a step up from last year, and she could feel the webs of loneliness ebbing away for the first time in a long time.

“Exactly. I just don't get it, Daph.” Harry said, almost exasperated as the four stepped into the Transfiguration classroom. Daphne reached out as they sat down and grabbed Harry's hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Tracey's favorite class.” Daphne mumbled to which Harry squeezed her hand back, letting her know he was here for her.

Ron and Hermione watched the two with smiles on their faces, sharing hushed whispers back and forth.

“Then we need to keep the spirit alive. In her honor, right?” Harry asked as Professor McGonagall made her way into the room, beginning her lecture on human Transfiguration and self Transfiguration.

Daphne realized a few minutes in that she was still holding onto Harry's hand and he didn't seem to mind.

“Which is why we will be pairing up for one final project this year. You choose your own subject and I will oversee your projects. Remember, your final grade comes not from your success, but from the effort you put in.” McGonagall said, looking between them all. The 8th year class was small, maybe 24 students tops.

“The best project will receive my personal recommendation to either another Transfiguration master, towards myself as an apprentice, or a letter of recommendation to whatever other career you might go into. I'll give you all a few minutes to discuss.”

“Did you mean what you said?” Daphne asked, looking up at Harry with puppy dog eyes.

“I always mean what I say, but you have to be a little more descriptive.” Harry got a smirk and a playful roll of the eyes from that.

“That we can carry on her legacy? Tracey's goal. Her only one at Hogwarts was to be an animagus. And between us, we’ve got the skills for Transfigurations and Potions.” Daphne spoke confidently.

“It's supposed to be incredibly difficult. But two very important people in my life were Animagi. And a very important person in yours wanted to be one. Let's do it. If anyone can do this, it's Harry fucking Potter and Daphne fucking Greengrass.” Harry said with a smirk as her grin grew wide.

She let go of his hand to hug his neck.

“Thanks Harry. Though our matching middle names surprised me a bit.” Daphne said with a wink, letting go of his neck and sitting up properly.

Chapter Text

October 12th

“...So then she says, ‘Or worse, expelled!” Harry said, causing both of them to laugh. Daphne grinned as they walked the empty halls of Hogwarts. “And I feel like ever since then, that's been the personification of Hermione.”

“I have spent precious little time with Granger. With you and I being closer this year, maybe Hermione and I should have a girl's night.” Daphne offered as an idea.

“I think she would love that. Especially after what all of us have been through.” Harry said as they continued walking.

“I have something to show you.” Harry said suddenly as they passed the Room of Requirement, a place that Harry hadn't been back inside of since the death of Crabbe.

“Harry, darling, I know about the room of requirement. I was in the D.A.” Daphne said, condescendingly.

“Not that, princess.” He teased right back, pulling her by the sleeve into an abandoned classroom and sitting at the Teacher's Desk. He leaned back in the chair as he pulled out a weathered piece of parchment. “This. Something that makes our rounds completely useless. Well not completely useless, since I get to walk around with you.”

“Flirt.” Daphne declared with a grin, “I saw your potions homework for last week already.” She said as she looked at the old parchment.

“You're awfully sassy tonight. No. This is the marauders map.” Harry said, eyes full of excitement as Daphne tilted her head.

“What in Merlin's name is-”

Daphne was cut off as Harry said in a quiet voice, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

“Harry, what-” Daphne stopped as she watched the map open fully, the dorms in clear view. She watched as the teachers moved about the castle and her eyes finally rested on herself and Harry standing in the abandoned classroom. “This is incredible.”

“It helped me stay busy on long nights of watching forests, just imagining what you guys were all doing here in a different universe.” Harry said quietly.

Daphne looked along the lines of the map, her finger running along the names and noticing that Astoria was missing until she glanced at the Gryffindor dorm. “I suppose you saw a lot of this last year.” She said with a half smile.

“We weren't together anymore. I can't fault her for finding someone else. Especially since I've met Astoria and she's a mini you. She's great.”

Daphne flushed red at his words, smiling with her eyes still on the paper. “Did you ever look for my dot on here?” Her words were quiet yet hopeful.

“I looked for your name all the time.” He responded easily, his eyes a long ways away, obviously still thinking about the war. “I noticed her name was always with Astoria's and I guess it was the power of subliminal thinking or something. It made me always wonder where you were.”

Daphne hugged him from behind as he sat in the chair, “It means a lot to me that even then you were looking out for me. C'mon.” She motioned towards the door.

“Mischief managed.”

“Well in that case, we have an hour to kill. Want to grab a bite to eat and go sit in our common room? We can play games or something?” Daphne asked.

Harry rose to his feet and started to walk towards the kitchen with her. His hand naturally found the small of her back and Daphne grinned up at him.

“Sold.”

A bite to eat turned into the two of them sharing an entire trifle. They sat at one of the little lounge seats and tables in the middle of the kitchen. Daphne couldn't help but stare around with wonder.

“And you say you can't keep up with Ron,” Harry muttered, getting a rude hand gesture from Daphne. He pushed a hand through his hair, meeting her grin with one of his own. “I'd say I got about 3 bites of that before-”

“No, Potter. I ate a ladylike slice, maybe two. You, the brutish Gryffindor, ate three-quarters of it.” Daphne said, voice haughty, but a bright smile on her lips as she easily flirted with Harry.

“What do you want to do after Hogwarts, Daph?” Harry asked as he looked at her across the table. His hand raised and he wiped a spot of whipped cream from her chin without even thinking about it. Daphne's breath caught momentarily.

“Uh, I uh..” she stuttered as she watched him. He licked the whipped cream from the tip of his finger and she thought she had died. He looked at her, obviously not thinking anything was weird about what he had just done.

“Daph?”

“Healing.” She finally managed to get out, her confidence growing back, “I figure between the four of us, someone needs to be a healer. Mainly because you're gonna keep ending up in trouble.”

“I think I'm done getting into trouble. I really want to teach. I think the defense position is calling me.” Harry said as he scraped the last bit of trifle from his plate.

“Don't wanna save the world more?” Daphne asked as she finally set her fork to the side. “I'm surprised. You've always wanted to be an Auror.”

“Yeah. But I got the worst of the worst. And I don't see you wanting to work at St. Mungos. So if I want to keep up with our late-night trips to the kitchens, I figured Hogwarts will be my best bet.” He teased her with the type of familiarity one gave to their oldest friends, and it melted her heart just a little bit more.

“I can think of worse things to do than hang out with you in Hogwarts, I suppose.” Daphne grinned at him. “Though that depends on our Transfiguration grade. We have to win the best project. Which means we need to make advances.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday. Maybe we can pick up some supplies in Hogsmeade or Diagon if we sneak out.”

“If only Hermione could hear you now, abusing your Head Boy duties. Eating house elf food. How dare you, Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes and flung a piece of trifle at her playfully. “You're the worst.”

—

October 13th

Harry was laying across the sofa with Daphne's legs thrown over his own as he casually read when Hermione and Ron arrived the next night after their own prefect duties. They both started to move to avoid the awkward questions before Harry shifted back, not really caring. So what if his friends found out that he and Daphne were close friends who helped one another out after nightmares and bad days?

“This castle is so boring now. I guess I should appreciate that though, right?” Ron complained with a laugh.

“I'd say so, Ronald. Not every year needs an adventure.” Hermione chided him. Her eyes caught Daphne's as the two found seats in the common room on the adjacent couch that looked as if it had never been touched.

“It's not what it looks like,” Harry said at the questioning look, just as Daphne said with a smug smile,

“It's exactly what it looks like.”

There were a few empty wine bottles on the table from the night before. And Harry had his head thrown back against the cushion carelessly. Both of their hair looked crazy and Daphne grinned, knowing what it seemed like had just happened.

“So you two did get wine drunk and then-”

“Mum and Dad's diaries.” Harry said suddenly, “I saw them this summer in the vault.”

Daphne's look softened as she looked up at him, causing Hermione to smile at the unknowing other girl. “Do you wanna go get them?” Daphne asked.

“I do.” Harry said confidently. “They might have important notes for the animagus project, or for the potions involved.”

“Let's go!” Daphne said with a grin.

Ron laughed, rolling his eyes as both started to stand up, almost stumbling. “Gringotts is closed.”

“Plus it's two in the morning. Go during the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow. Idiots. You don't want to splinch yourself or die!” Hermione chided as Daphne and Harry immediately looked at one another.

“Or worse! Expelled!” They said in unison, making Hermione huff and Ron start to laugh hysterically.

—

“No need to sneak out.” Harry heard as he was suddenly awake. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the fact that Daphne was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at him. She smiled as he looked blearily up at her, a confused look on his face.

It felt weird for him to be waking up in here, given how often they passed out on the couch together.

“Huh?”

“I found out it's the first official Hogsmeade trip. Talked to Susan Bones and Ernie McMillan. They're covering for us since I told them we had to go to Diagon. Are we taking Hermione and Ron, or is this just an us thing?”

“Maybe we go to Diagon and Gringotts with them originally and then we split off, yeah? We do have some extra stuff to get, right?”

“We do. But it'd be nice to wander around Diagon with you as well. Maybe I just enjoy your company, Potter.” She teased, finally giving in to temptation and mussing his hair, long fingernails briefly scratching his scalp.

Harry happily sighed, leaning briefly into her touch. “Keep doing that and you can have whatever you want.”

“Flirt. Does that include the entire winter line from Twillfit and Taftings?”

“I said whatever you want.”

Daphne grinned and scratched his scalp a little longer. They'd grown close with how often they worked together, and the fact that they lived together and slept on the couch together most nights.

“You're adorable sometimes, Harry.” Daphne smirked, scratching his chin as she stood. “Get ready, I wanna leave soon. I'm excited if you can't tell.”

And she was gone, leaving Harry to blush and grin to himself at her words. She thought he was adorable.

Harry got ready quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans he had bought over the summer, and a plain black shirt that helped show off the muscles he had gained from the war. He thought he looked rather nice. Running a brush through his hair had no effect, as per usual.

Harry rushed down the stairs from the loft hallway and sat on the couch to wait for Daphne. Honestly, he was rather excited to be there with her as well. The thought of wandering through Diagon Alley without a care in the world made him smile quietly to himself.

The air seemed to leave his lungs momentarily as Daphne stepped downstairs, her hair in a loose ponytail, hips swaying casually in her tight jeans, and to top it off, a Gryffindor Quidditch jersey. It seemed to have been momentarily resized, or maybe one from a younger year, given the size difference, Harry noticed as he read the name ‘POTTER’ across the back in big block letters.

“Sorry, I needed something warm. I hope you don't mind.”

“N-not at all.” Harry stuttered, unable to stop looking.

“Does it look okay?” Daphne asked shyly, clearly fishing for compliments, Harry could tell by the coy smile on her lips.

“Better than okay.” Harry stammered as he stood up before wondering why exactly he was standing up.

“Good.”

It was a little while later that they walked into the entrance hall, laughing together while waiting on Hermione and Ron. “Get a new last name, Greengrass?” Ron teased casually, causing Daphne to roll her eyes.

“Yes, and you weren't invited. The 7-tiered cake was too small to feed your massive appetite.”

“Well, Mr. And Mrs. Potter. Ready to go to Diagon?” Hermione teased as both Daphne and Harry rolled their eyes.

“That's Potter-Black to you.” Daphne harumphed as they walked towards the grounds and the carriages beyond.

Harry was unable to stop the casual glances at the blonde walking next to him, though it seemed like any time that he glanced, she'd already be looking at him and giving him a small smile.

As they got onto the carriages, Daphne's knee was pressed against his own, and before long as they both looked out the window, he felt her arms wrap around one of his own and lean her head onto his shoulder. Hermione and Ron gave them both looks, though they were largely ignored.

As they pulled into Hogsmeade, the four of them began making their way to the apparition point, Harry and Daphne walking as close as possible.

“You two look awfully cozy.” Hermione said, giving both of them a smile.

“We are,” Harry said, turning right back to Daphne.

“If you don't stop being mean to us, I might tell Harry not to let you see my mother-in-law's diaries or book collection,” Daphne said simply, as if she already was Mrs. Potter.

“You're just giving them more chances to make fun of us now.” Harry grumbled half-heartedly.

“Who's to say it isn't true?” She stared at Hermione who raised her hands.

“Mrs. Potter, I humbly apologize and would love to look through any of those books, given the chance.”

“Then stop giving Mr. Potter such a hard time for trying to be as close to a pretty girl as possible,” Daphne said with a smile up at Harry.

—

The journey into Gringotts was a bit awkward, given the looks Harry received from the goblins, but generally, he was able to avoid the stares and sneers. He was on edge being in public, and Daphne could tell. She was oftentimes the same way.

The second they had set foot in Diagon Alley, she had threaded her fingers through his own and held onto his bicep, acting as a grounding for him. The same thing he had done for her on nights after nightmares. It was incredible how close they had gotten over the past month or so.

“Thanks for being here for me, Daph.” Harry said in a low voice as he ducked his head down closer to her ear, still holding her hand even in the cart. Ron and Hermione seemed to be having a quiet little conversation themselves.

“Nowhere else I'd rather be, Potter.” Daphne said with a smile up at him as his breath tickled her ear.

“I still appreciate it all the same, Mrs. Potter.” The name was said right against her ear, causing Daphne to shiver and smack his chest.

“Brat.” She shook her head affectionately.

They reached the Potter family vault, and it was opened, allowing all four access. “Merlin, Harry.” Ron said as he looked around. “I knew you were rich but…”

His comment died as Harry awkwardly ran his hand through his hair, “Yeah.”

“Let's start looking,” Daphne said as she clapped her hands in front of her.

The search for the diaries and books took some time, but eventually they were able to find the diaries along with some potions notebooks and even some more Marauder's diaries. It was like a goldmine of information for Harry, and he hungrily grabbed up the books and stuffed them into the moleskin pouch.

Before long, he started to flip through more of his parents' belongings. He eventually came across a beautiful set of hair combs that had belonged to his mother, a set of hair combs with a floral inlay that appeared to be made of some sort of rose gold. “Wow,” Daphne said as she leaned against his arm.

“Pretty, right?” Harry asked, getting a few nods in response. As Daphne smiled up and turned to start looking through some more of the trunks, she felt him grab her hand and pull her closer to him. “I can't wear them.” He said softly and placed them gently into the bun of her hair.

“Harry, honey. I can't take your mother's jewelry.” Daphne chided quietly.

“Yes, you can. You mean a lot to me.” He insisted, clipping them in place, “And like I said, I'm not wearing them. They’d look terrible on me.”

Daphne fought the tears that were threatening to come from her eyes at just how sweet he was. Instead, she simply wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him as hard as possible. “You're such a brat.”

Harry smiled and kept hugging her, just enjoying more time spent with his Daphne. His. When did that become a thought? He wondered to himself.

Maybe their closeness was moving them into dangerous territory, though what was really the danger of having a cuddly and affectionate friend? Harry loved how close they were, how they could seem to talk for hours without ever getting bored.

Finally, she let go, though her index finger wrapped around his own and stayed there. “You need some galleons for the rest of our trip?” She asked as they walked towards Ron and Hermione.

“Yeah, I should grab some. It feels weird taking them from this vault.” Harry said with a shrug and a half smile sent her way.

“Darling, none of these are Galleons your parents touched. These are all from investments. I mean, maybe buried under all of these galleons are some they might have brought in here, but honestly, those have probably gone into debts and then been repaid with different galleons and… what matters the most were things your parents actually touched and used.” Daphne squeezed his finger with her own.

“You're right,” Harry said softly. “Everyone ready?”

“Yeah, we have to get back to Hogsmeade.” Hermione rattled off, glancing at Harry and Daphne's joined fingers. “You two enjoy yourselves.”

“Gotta hopefully get some of my money from my parents' vaul-”

“Ron, did you not get the letter from Gringotts? You've got your own vault, mate. Wages and bounties from the war.” Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Who do I talk to about that?”

Harry shrugged, “Go talk to one of the tellers, they should be able to get you sorted.”

Harry and Daphne left the bank a while later with a smirk at one another as they had just loaded their pockets with black family gold. Why spend Potter gold when he had a whole separate vault. Ron was a great guy, especially these days but he didn't need to know about how much more gold Harry had.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

October 13th — Evening

The cobblestones of Diagon Alley gleamed in the fading light, still slick from an afternoon drizzle. Daphne walked beside Harry, her fingers loosely twined with his. The street had quieted as the last few shoppers disappeared into the warm glow of shopfronts. The world felt hushed, as if the chaos of Gringotts had been replaced with a comfortable stillness that existed solely for them.

“So,” Daphne began, squeezing his hand lightly, “do you think the goblins are still gossiping about you walking in with a Slytherin on your arm?”

Harry smiled, tilting his head toward her. “Oh, definitely. They probably think I’m under some kind of spell.”

Daphne gave him a sideways look. “Are you?”

He grinned, pretending to think. “If I am, it’s a very nice one. I’d rather not be cured if it's all the same.”

Her laugh carried softly through the cooling air. “Merlin, you’ve gotten good at this flirting thing.” 

“Practice,” Harry said easily, and that earned him another nudge of her shoulder against his arm.

They passed the Quidditch shop, its windows lit up with sleek new brooms, each one glimmering with enchanted gold trim. Harry stopped, pointing. “You know, we still haven’t settled the score from last week. A proper match might change your mind about Gryffindor flyers.”

Daphne crossed her arms, her smile threatening to give her away. “The day I let you beat me at anything is the day I start calling you ‘'Sir’', darling.”

Harry leaned a bit closer, voice low. “You can start practicing, if you’d like.”

She laughed outright at that, shaking her head as she tugged him back toward the street. “Not even in your dreams, Potter.”

“Those are a bit of a different story,” he murmured, almost too quietly for her to hear. Yet she did. And she blushed, which was something he found incredibly satisfying.

As they approached the edge of the Alley, where the apparition point shimmered faintly under the evening light, Daphne slowed. For a moment, her teasing faded. She glanced at him, her voice soft.

“Your mum would’ve loved me, you know.”

Harry stopped too. The streetlamps glowed faintly against her hair, picking up the rose-gold glint of the combs he’d given her. He looked at her for a long moment, something gentle settling behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quiet but certain. “She would’ve.”

Daphne smiled, and this time she didn’t tease him. She just reached for his hand again, threading her fingers through his.

“Let’s go home, then.”

They disappeared with a soft crack, leaving only the fading echo of laughter and a swirl of golden light behind them.

—

The carriages waited at the edge of Hogsmeade, their lanterns casting lazy halos of light through the early autumn mist. The air smelled faintly of wet grass and distant chimney smoke. Ron was already leaning against the gate when Harry and Daphne appeared, arms crossed and wearing that unmistakable Weasley smirk.

“Took you long enough,” Ron said. “What, did you get lost in a vault full of money?”

“Something like that,” Harry replied, earning a sharp elbow from Daphne.

Hermione was beside him, her prefect badge gleaming even in the half-light. She gave the pair of them a knowing look. “You two look awfully pleased with yourselves.”

“We found some old family things,” Daphne said smoothly, “and Harry nearly got adopted by a goblin. A normal Saturday, really.”

Harry snorted. “You’re terrible at keeping a low profile.”

“Only because you keep raising it,” she quipped.

They climbed into the nearest carriage together. The interior was warm, softly lit by charmed lanterns. Daphne took the seat beside Harry without hesitation, her shoulder brushing his. The horses started forward, hooves striking sparks off the stones, and the slow rhythm of the ride lulled everything into quiet comfort.

Through the window, the lights of Hogsmeade slid away behind them. Daphne leaned into Harry, her cheek finding his shoulder almost automatically. He didn’t move away, just shifted his arm slightly until it rested around her back. Harry offered her one of their shared pack of cigarettes, and she lit one easily.

Across from them, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look that was half amusement, half exasperation.

“So,” Ron said at last, “heard from Ginny and Astoria lately? They’re practically glued together this week. Can’t tell if they’re studying or snogging.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. “Bit of both, I imagine.”

Daphne chuckled quietly. “I told my sister she’d never survive Gryffindor territory, but apparently Ginny’s converted her.” She took a long drag from the cigarette, watching as it trailed out the window. The slightest touch of red lipstick was left on the filter.

Daphne found that she loved it when a bit of her lipstick would stick to Harry's lip. It was like her way of claiming him without it being official or titled. She knew nobody would try for what was hers. 

Harry grinned, resting his chin lightly against the top of Daphne’s hair. “Explains why Astoria kept glaring at me the last time I walked into the common room.”

“She’s protective,” Daphne said. “I think she’s convinced you’ll steal Ginny’s attention.”

Harry laughed. “I think all Greengrass girls are just jealous creatures.”

“I'd like to see Ginny try to take you.” Came Daphne's muttered reply, just loud enough that Harry flushed slightly and grinned. She didn't refute his claim.

“Ginny likes a challenge,” Hermione muttered under her breath, and the whole carriage dissolved into laughter.

The laughter faded into a warm silence. Outside, the castle’s silhouette grew larger. The towers reaching into a violet sky streaked with stars. The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels filled the space between heartbeats. The only sound otherwise was inhales from that same shared cigarette. 

Daphne’s fingers toyed absently with the edge of his sleeve. “Thanks for today,” she said softly. “For the vault. For… all of it.”

Harry tilted his head down, his voice low and rough around the edges. “Daphne, you don’t need to thank me.”

“I want to,” she said. “You let me see a piece of your family. That matters.”

He didn’t answer right away. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and thoughtful. “You’re family now, too.”

The words slipped out before he could think. Daphne’s breath caught, just for a second, and when she finally spoke, her tone was a careful whisper.

“Dangerous words, Potter.”

He smiled faintly. “Worth the risk.”

She looked up at him, her lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t far from it. “You say that like you know what you’re risking.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

Before she could answer, the carriage lurched to a stop. The gates of Hogwarts stood before them, grand and familiar, glowing faintly in the torchlight.

Daphne took a deep breath and exhaled, her teasing tone returning as she glanced up at him. “Well, Mr. Potter, back to our duties.”

He grinned. “Yes, Mrs. Potter.”

She gave him one final shove for that before they stepped down together, the laughter following them up toward the castle’s doors.

—

The Heads Common Room

October 14th, 12:04 AM

By the time they both returned to their shared quarters, the castle had long since gone quiet. The fire in the hearth was low and lazy, throwing amber light across the red-and-gold rug. A few half-burnt candles flickered on the coffee table, casting the room in a sleepy glow.

Daphne dropped her bag by the door and stretched with a soft groan, her hair coming loose from the combs he’d given her earlier. Harry, meanwhile, went straight for the kettle perched on the shelf behind the couch.

Daphne lit a cigarette and tossed the pack on the floor. She immediately kicked her boots off and rubbed her soles through her stockings, groaning softly to herself. Silently, Harry wondered if he should offer to help or if that was too intimate or- 

He had to stop thinking like this. 

Or did he?

“Tea or coffee?” he asked, already reaching for two mugs.

“Coffee,” she said immediately — then caught his surprised look and grinned. “What? I’m not all posh tea, crumpets and cucumber sandwiches, Potter. I survived last year on espresso and sterlings alone.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t think anyone else here actually drank coffee by choice. Hermione says it’s barbaric.”

“That’s because Hermione thinks anything that isn’t brewed with a precise charm is barbaric,” Daphne teased. “Coffee is… chaos in a cup. I like that.”

He handed her a steaming mug, fingers brushing hers for just a moment. “Chaos in a cup,” he echoed. “That might be the most accurate thing you’ve ever said.”

They settled on the couch, mugs warming their hands as the fire popped quietly. The journals they’d brought from the vault were stacked between them, parchment and leather and memory.

Daphne reached for the first one — Lily’s neat handwriting dancing across the yellowed pages. She read a few lines under her breath, smiling softly.

September 5th, 1979 — James still can’t remember to label the potions. I nearly drank a sleeping draught instead of coffee this morning. He said it would have been ‘an efficient nap.’

Daphne’s laugh was quiet, “I love her already.”

Harry leaned over, reading the line for himself, then grinned. “I think I inherited that particular flaw.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Daphne said dryly, nudging his knee with hers. “But she sounds wonderful. Clever, sarcastic, warm. I see where you get it.”

He blinked. “You think I’m warm?”

“I think you try not to be,” she said, eyes still on the page. “But it leaks out anyway, especially when you’re not paying attention. And especially with me.”

That made him smile — a small, real smile that touched the corners of his eyes. He took a long sip of coffee, letting the silence fill with firelight and the faint scratch of parchment.

For a while, they just read — side by side, leaning closer as the night deepened. Daphne made occasional notes on spare parchment; Harry occasionally reached over her shoulder to point out an entry from Sirius’s journal that corresponded with Lily’s. The rhythm between them was easy, natural.

At some point, Daphne’s legs curled up under her, her shoulder pressing against his arm. Her coffee mug balanced precariously on her knee.

“You’re going to spill that,” he warned.

“Then you’ll just have to make me another, won't you?” she murmured without looking up.

He chuckled, setting his own mug aside. “Deal.”

Hours passed unnoticed until Daphne yawned, her head drifting against his shoulder. Harry looked down — her lashes brushing her cheeks, lips curved in a faint smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, brushing a lock of hair back from her face. “You should go to bed.”

“I am in bed,” she mumbled, not moving.

He tried not to laugh. “This is a couch, Daph.”

“Mmm. A comfortable couch with my absolute favorite pillow.”

He pulled her in closer to him, letting her settle exactly where she was. 

The fire burned low, crackling softly as her breathing evened out. Harry leaned back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, fingers barely touching her shoulder.

His eyes drifted to the combs still glinting faintly in her hair — his mother’s, now hers — and he smiled without meaning to.

“Goodnight, Daphne,” he murmured.

She stirred faintly, half asleep. “Night, Harry… save me some coffee in the morning.”

“Always.”

He sat there a while longer, the warmth of her weight against him, the scent of coffee lingering between them — and for the first time in a long time, the world felt like it could finally rest.

—

Heads common room

October 14th, 10:45 AM

Sunlight slipped through the tall windows of the Head’s common room, painting the stone floor gold. The fire had gone out sometime before dawn, leaving only the faint scent of smoke and the cold gleam of empty mugs on the table.

Harry woke to the weight of something warm and solid against him — and the realization that the “something” had long, pale hair scattered across his chest.

Daphne.

Still asleep, still curled up like a cat in the crook of his arm. One of Lily’s journals rested open on her lap, a parchment corner creased under her thumb. Her breathing was slow and even, each exhale ghosting across his shirt.

For a long moment, Harry didn’t move. He just stared up at the high, arched ceiling, feeling the kind of peace that came too rarely in his life. The world outside the common room didn’t exist — not classes, not expectations, not the whispered rumors about the Head Boy and Girl. Just warmth, coffee, and the faint scent of Daphne’s perfume clinging to his sleeve.

Eventually, though, reality demanded movement. He shifted carefully, trying not to wake her as he reached for his wand.

Accio coffee pot.

The kettle came gliding across the room, obedient as ever, and he grinned when he realized he’d already charmed it the night before to brew automatically. The smell of roasted beans filled the air a moment later, sharp and rich.

Daphne stirred at the sound — a soft, sleepy noise that could only be described as dignified grumbling. “If that’s tea, I’m hexing you,” she muttered without opening her eyes.

Harry laughed under his breath. “It’s coffee. I’m not suicidal, your majesty.”

That earned a faint smile. She blinked awake slowly, her voice rough from sleep. “Good. I’d hate to have to duel my flatmate before breakfast.”

“Flatmate?” Harry teased, pouring two mugs. “Is that what we’re calling this?”

She sat up, hair a beautiful mess, eyes still half-lidded. “What else would you call it? We share a roof, a schedule, and apparently, a caffeine addiction. And most nights, a couch.”

“Could be worse,” he said, handing her a mug. “You could’ve been stuck with Nott.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” she said, grimacing. “He’d have alphabetized the bathroom potions by blood purity.”

Harry laughed, nearly spilling his coffee. “Fair point.”

They fell into easy conversation as the morning light brightened. Daphne perched on the edge of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, sipping from her mug like it was their own sacred ritual. Harry leaned against the windowsill across from her, hair sticking up in every direction.

There was a calm between them, the kind that only comes after a night shared quietly, not romantically, but meaningfully. They’d crossed some invisible threshold, and neither seemed eager to step back.

The calm, however, didn’t last long.

The door to the Head’s Dorm swung open without warning.

“Harry! You promised we’d go over the prefect schedule-” Hermione froze mid-sentence.

For one perfect, terrible second, the scene hung in silence:

Daphne Greengrass, hair tangled, still wrapped in one of Harry’s jumpers and barefoot. Harry himself barefoot, mug in hand. The couch was littered with journals, blankets, and the unmistakable smell of coffee and cigarettes filled the air.

Hermione’s eyebrows slowly climbed. “Oh.”

Harry groaned. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Just as Daphne smirked and said, “Once again, it's exactly what it looks like.”

Hermione folded her arms. “Harry, it looks like you two had a very productive night.”

Daphne, unfazed, took a long, slow sip of her coffee. “We were reading,” she said, tone smooth as glass. “Which is more than I can say for most of you Gryffindors at midnight.”

That earned a startled snort from Hermione, who seemed torn between scandal and approval. “I… see. Well. Carry on then.” She gave Harry a pointed look. “And please, next time, lock the door.”

She was gone before he could answer.

Harry dropped his face into his hands with a groan. “I’m never going to live that one down.”

Daphne’s laughter filled the room, low and warm. “Oh, I think you’ll survive. Besides,” she nudged his leg with her bare foot, eyes bright, “at least she didn’t see the part where you drooled on me.”

His head shot up. “I did not!”

“Oh, you did,” she said, wickedly smug. “Right here.” She tapped her shoulder.

He stared at her, scandalized, before breaking into helpless laughter. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer the term ‘unforgettable’.” She smiled into her mug, voice softening. “Now, drink your coffee before it goes cold, Potter.”

He did, and for the first time since returning to Hogwarts, the day felt like it was starting right.

—

The castle was already buzzing when Harry and Daphne finally made their way down to breakfast. The corridors thrummed with chatter, laughter, and the scrape of shoes against stone. It was Sunday, but the Great Hall still felt like a small-scale riot, plates clattering, owls swooping in with letters, and first years darting between benches like startled pixies.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “We could still turn around.”

Daphne smirked, her tone dry. “And miss the show? Not a chance.”

He shot her a look, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Together, they stepped through the doors, and the noise dipped just slightly.

Just enough to notice.

A few heads turned — a handful of whispers. Someone near the Hufflepuff table clearly mouthed ‘together?’ while a Ravenclaw sixth-year nudged her friend and pointed.

Daphne carried on as if she hadn’t heard a thing, gliding toward the staff-end of the Gryffindor table where the Heads usually sat. Harry followed, trying to look casual.

It didn’t help that Daphne’s hair was still just a little tousled from sleep or that her jumper, the deep red one, looked suspiciously familiar, and the faint scent of Harry's cologne wafnted from her.

They sat. Instantly, Ron leaned across the table, mouth full of toast. “Mate,” he whispered, not very quietly, “you have to tell me-”

“No,” Harry said flatly, pouring himself orange juice.

“But-”

“No.”

Daphne, ever unbothered, took a sip of coffee and smiled at Hermione, who looked simultaneously curious and concerned. “Good morning,” Daphne said sweetly. “This is lovely weather for a scandal, isn’t it?”

Hermione sighed. “You’re enjoying this far too much, Mrs. Potter.”

“Someone has to,” Daphne said.

Before Harry could even think about defending himself, a familiar voice cut through the hum of the hall.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Ginny Weasley stood in front of them, hands on her hips, an unmistakable spark in her eyes. Beside her, Astoria Greengrass wore a matching smirk — softer, more private, but just as telling.

“Morning, Ginny,” Harry said carefully.

“Morning, Harry,” Ginny replied in a tone that carried more mischief than malice. “I didn’t realize the Head dorms came with complimentary girlfriends.”

Daphne arched an eyebrow. “That’s funny. I didn’t realize Gryffindor came with complimentary gossip rights.”

Astoria gave a quiet, delighted laugh, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Don’t tease her, Daph. You’re glowing. You’ll give everything away.”

“I am not glowing,” Daphne said, entirely too calmly.

“Mm-hmm,” Ginny hummed, sliding into the bench opposite them. “Then explain the jumper.”

Harry looked down. Then groaned. “Right. Yeah. That’s… mine.”

Ron nearly choked on his toast. Hermione muttered something about decorum.

Daphne took another sip of her coffee, utterly serene. “He lent it to me,” she said. “I was cold.”

“Of course you were,” Ginny said sweetly. “The Head dorms are so drafty.”

Astoria elbowed her gently. “Leave them alone, Gin. At least they’re discreet.”

Ginny smirked. “For now. Harry's never been known for being discreet.” She turned her gaze to Daphne, seeming to look along her neck for any of the telltale signs.

Daphne snorted and pretended it hadn't happened, meeting Harry's appalled look with a genuine smile.

The teasing ebbed after a few minutes, replaced by easy conversation. Ginny and Astoria were clearly wrapped in their own little world, sharing glances, finishing each other’s sentences. It wasn’t loud or showy, but it was real, and Harry found himself smiling at the sight, longing for just that but appreciating that they had found it.

Daphne noticed. “What?” she murmured.

“Just…” he nodded toward the pair. “They make it look simple.”

“It is, when you don’t overthink it,” Daphne said. Her hand brushed his under the table, light as a whisper. “Maybe that’s what we should do.”

Harry looked at her, and for once, he didn’t have anything clever to say. Instead, he just locked his fingers with her own and got a startled but serene smile in response.

Around them, the Great Hall carried on, owls swooping, students laughing, plates refilling, but the world narrowed for a heartbeat to two mugs of coffee and the quiet press of her fingers against his.

It didn’t matter what anyone thought.

It didn’t even matter if it made sense.

For the first time since the war, Harry felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Daphne shot a smile his way as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, her cheeks just barely flushed. He loved that color.

—

Later that afternoon, the castle was quiet again, that lazy, golden sort of quiet where time seemed to slow down between classes and evening.

The fire in the Heads’ common room crackled low, painting the walls with shifting amber light. Books and parchment were scattered across the table, drafts of lesson plans, event ideas, and scattered lists that were slowly starting to look like a real plan for the first ball.

Harry leaned back on the sofa, quill spinning idly in his fingers. “Three balls in one year,” he muttered, “You really want to make sure no one forgets we’re in charge.” He glanced at the almost overflowing ashtray. They'd need to buy more soon.

“Damn right. Head Girl duties, Potter. I can’t help that you have no sense of flair.” Daphne didn’t look up from her parchment. Her long legs were tucked beneath her, her handwriting impossibly neat compared to Harry’s chaotic scrawl. Slowly she stretched her legs out, socked feet in his lap, as if testing the waters of what was allowed.

“Flair is one thing. Three themed galas and a floating orchestra are another,” Harry teased, leaning forward to steal her coffee.

Daphne didn’t stop him. She just raised an eyebrow and said, “You’re lucky I like you.”

He froze mid-sip. “You like me?”

She smirked. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I'm just saying, I'd hate to see how I was treated if you didn't." Harry laughed quietly at her eyeroll, shaking his head. 

He passed the mug back, their fingers brushing in that same easy, accidental way that had long since stopped feeling accidental.

Outside, rain began to patter softly against the windows.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Harry murmured after a while, “but I’m actually looking forward to this one. The ball, I mean. Feels… normal.”

Daphne looked up, the flicker of the fire catching in her eyes. “Normal isn’t so bad, is it?”

He smiled, soft and real. “Not with you around.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the sound of rain, parchment rustling, and the faint hum of the fire filling the space between them.

Daphne eventually leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she studied him. “You know, Potter,” she said, voice dropping into that teasing warmth again, “if you keep saying things like that, people really will start calling me Mrs. Potter.”

Harry chuckled, eyes still on her. “Let them talk, love.”

Her smile lingered, small, knowing, and maybe just a little bit dangerous.

Outside, thunder rolled in the distance. Inside, the warmth between them only deepened.