"It's going to be okay," he said, trying to reassure her. "They're not going to react like how you think."

"It's not Granger I'm worried about," she responded, crossing her arms and coming to a stop in the corridor. "I've worked with her before. We're not friends but we're on good terms. It's Weasley, you know that."

Harry came to a stop, his footfalls echoing off the stone walls of the corridor as he turned around and put a hand on the girl's arm. Slender, yet strong, he slid his hand the length of the pale skin of her arm before clasping her long fingers and enclosing them in his own. Her fair skin nearly glittered in the torchlight, and when he gently moved his fingers under her chin to lift her eyes to his own, her bright blue eyes did. He brushed her long blonde hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. The pair stood in contrast to each other. She was fine-boned and tall, all light skin, hair, and eyes. He surveyed her through dark eyes illuminating a face framed by dark hair and encroaching stubble, and while not blessed by height, puberty had begun to make an impact on his shoulders and chest; the width of his torso showing the promise of muscle to come. It was not muscle that was needed now, as he wrapped her in a tender embrace.

"Don't worry about what they say. They're my friends and I'm ready for this to stop being a secret but if they can't handle it that's on them. We'll still be together."

She smiled at him tremulously. "Promise?"

"Of course." He kissed her again, this time on the lips, savoring the bright and woodsy smell that he associated with her. "Come on, they're waiting."

Harry looked at her and when she squared her shoulders and nodded her head he pushed open the door to the empty classroom. It was one they found tucked away on the sixth floor, near the Astronomy Tower. They used it often for practicing magic or when they were just looking for a place away from the hustle and bustle of the main castle. They never left any indication of their use of the room behind but judging by the perpetually untouched state of it, sans their own actions, it seemed as though the student body at large stayed ignorant of the large room with its scattered desks and dusty chandeliers.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron, who was absentmindedly levitating a chair. "What took you so...oh, um, hello?"

"Harry," said Hermione, looking up from a book. "Why is Daphne Greengrass here?"

Harry, as opposed to speaking with his usual sheepishness when confronting direct and possibly uncomfortable questions, spoke with a confidence he usually only felt when it came to defensive magic. He had faced down dark wizards and spent the better part of the last year studying under one of the greatest wizards of the age. He could face down questions like this from his closest friends.

"Ron. Hermione. Daphne Greengrass and I have been...um...dating since Christmas. We've kept it hidden until now because of everything," he gestured vaguely into the empty space in front of him, trying to encompass the entirety of conflict within and without the school with a wave of his hand, "going on right now."

Ron was staring at the two of them, wide-eyed and at a loss for words. Daphne was standing in the back of the room, using Harry as barrier between herself and the other two. Hermione still hadn't looked up from her book when she asked her next question. "Why are you telling us now?"

"Because it's almost the end of the school year and Daphne and I do not plan on being separated the entire summer. Also because you are my closest friends and I didn't feel right keeping this you from any longer." He turned around and placed his hand on Daphne's arm, gently guiding her to stand by his side. "Daphne understands this and wants everyone to get along."

"Hi," she said, maintaining her conservative posture but attempting to imbue her voice with a bit more confidence. "I...um...it's nice to meet you. I know this is probably a bit of a surprise but I hope we can get to know each other."

Ron exhaled deeply. "Blimey. Are you sure you're not under some kind of spell, mate?"

Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around Daphne's waist. "No, Ron. I'm not. The only magical means Daphne used to win me over was a fantastic Bludgeoning Curse."

Hermione finally looked up from her book, glaring at Daphne. "Did she hurt you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, chuckling all the while. Daphne looked like she was about to cry, a sadness on her face but a flicker of anger in her eyes. Once he had composed himself and reassured the two of them Daphne had never threatened violence to his person to persuade him into a relationship, he launched into a story about how they met.

"Potter," said a quiet voice just past the door of the classroom to his left. He looked over and saw a Slytherin girl he knew by sight but not by name. "Would you have a minute?"

He was slightly suspicious of being detained by a Slytherin but saw no reason to disregard her. He doubted she would try and hit him with a Killing Curse in the middle of a well trafficked corridor. Noting that Ron and Hermione were all on their way towards lunch, engrossed in what was most likely an argument while thinking about food and a book, respectively, he gestured the opposite direction away from the clamor of the main corridor. They walked in silence past a couple of classrooms until they reached a window looking out over the grounds at the end. Harry caught a glimpse of the Quidditch pitch and looked forward to getting out there after classes that afternoon.

"Potter...I have a, I suppose you could call it a favor, to ask of you," she said, crossing her arms in front of her and looking at her feet.

"Yes? And I'm sorry, but what was your name again?"

"It's Daphne. Greengrass," she gave a small smile. "I'm surprised you don't remember me. We worked together once in Charms in our third year."

"Sorry…"

She laughed. It was a real, genuine laugh that did not belie her still insecure posture. She waved her hand absentmindedly in front of her. "Never mind. I wouldn't expect you to remember. We all remember our encounters with the famous Harry Potter though."

Harry grew restless, checking over his shoulder. "Does this have a point or not?"

"That bit? No. Anyway, what I wanted to ask you is if you'd be willing to work with me on Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Her request aroused Harry's suspicions. He had no idea why someone would seek him out specifically for help with defense, much less a Slytherin whose name he only just learned. He had never seen her with Malfoy, but there's a lot that went on in Slytherin that he didn't know about and he wouldn't put it past Malfoy to use another student as a ploy against him.

"Why should I help you?"

She sighed and brushed her some hair behind her ear that had fallen in front of her face. She was looking out the window, not meeting Harry's eyes. He wasn't sure if she had looked him in the face once yet.

"I'm rubbish at it, Potter...Harry...and I need to stop being so. It's important for me to get better and I've heard you're the best."

She met his eyes briefly and in them he saw a vulnerability he was unaccustomed to seeing on a Slytherin's face. The steely glare that he usually saw from Malfoy or Parkinson was missing, replaced by a softness, a worry that was rare to see in wizards. There was much artifice among magic users, even the supposedly 'good' ones. It was inevitable in a world marked by easy access to spells and substances that can make someone reveal their deepest secrets or attack their closest friends and families whenever someone with ill intentions wanted had a desire to do so. Defensiveness was natural. Harry didn't have to be a Legilimens to see Greengrass was telling the truth and if she was willing to come to him, in public no less, it must be urgent.

"Ok, Greengrass. I'll help you. I suppose I don't need to tell you that it would be best to keep these sessions a secret?"

She nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. They made an appointment to meet that Thursday evening in an empty classroom on the second floor Harry knew to be uncluttered and optimal for practicing magic. The fact that it was well out of the way of both the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms was an added bonus. She smiled at him when she left, some of her previous anxiety fading away. Not completely, as she took off towards the Great Hall at near a run. Harry followed her at a more sedate pace, working on an excuse to tell Ron and Hermione and mulling over what just transpired. It might be worthwhile to work more closely with a Slytherin. Perhaps they could use this opportunity to make inroads into that house, especially considering the fight to come. Her motives remained uncertain and he resolved to keep his guard up around her until he could get a better read on her.

"...and a good read on her I managed to get," he said, smiling down on her.

"Funny, I didn't know you could read," she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face, their audience temporarily forgotten. They were brought back to reality by Hermione clearing her throat.

"I trust in your judgment, Harry, but are you sure this is wise?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hermione's voice was strained in the way it got when she was upset but tried to pretend she wasn't, like when dealing with a bad teacher or Ron's romantic dalliances. Harry had expected suspicion, even outright hostility, from Ron, whose habitual distrust of Slytherins was the expected reaction to these revelations. Ron had remained silent up until this point and Hermione's line of questioning was the unexpected reaction. She had been the one who always tried to tamp down on Ron and Harry's worst impulses and now she seemed to be indulging in them, committing the same offense she often accused the two of them of perpetrating: jumping to conclusions.

"I'm sure Daphne is a very nice person," she said, nodding in Daphne's direction. The smile had long slipped from her face and she stared straight at Hermione, waiting on her to continue. Hermione caught the look on Daphne's face and looked somewhat chagrined, but continued anyway. "I don't think this will go towards uniting people behind you, Harry. What are they going to think when they see you with a Slytherin even though they're expecting to fight many of them in the war to come?"

Harry did not hesitate. "To Hell with them. If they can't make the distinction between a follower of Voldemort and the rest of the Slytherins, normal students and people like you and I, then we can't help them. Dumbledore has always said to keep our friends and families close. To be loyal to each other and stand together. That hasn't changed. There's just one more of us now."

Hermione started to speak, but Ron interrupted her. He had a funny look on his face, as if he was giving voice to a thought he had trouble justifying to himself. "Harry is right, Hermione. We're his closest friends and if we can't accept even a single Slytherin as part of our cause, then we're not much better than You-Know-Who, I reckon. Now, we're not going around murdering Muggles and the lot but we're not doing much for changing the conditions that led us here in the first place. To be honest, mate, I'm mostly just hurt you kept this from us for so long."

Ron nodded at Harry and smiled at Daphne, saying it was nice to meet her, before he strode out of the room, the flicker of the torches indicated that in his frustration, he might have closed the door a little bit harder than he usually would. Nobody spoke for a few beats, not quite sure what to make of the scene that transpired. It was Daphne that spoke first.

"Look, Hermione, I don't expect you to trust me immediately. If our positions were reversed, I wouldn't trust me. A secret girlfriend who's a Slytherin on top of it? I can hardly blame you. What I ask is for you to give me a chance. I care deeply for Harry and want to see Voldemort defeated as much as you do. Can you do that?"

Hermione paused for a second, looking thoughtful, and then nodded. She said goodnight to the two of them and left, not closing the door quite as forcefully as Ron did. It being late and almost curfew, Harry and Daphne only took a few moments for themselves, which wasn't nearly enough after the heavy conversation they just had. He tried reassuring her about Ron and Hermione and she reassuring him that she felt that the conversation went well. Harry appreciated the gesture even though he knew she was lying. He spent a few moments comforting her and then, after indulging in a prolonged goodnight kiss, they raced back to their respective common rooms, not needing to arouse suspicions among the school at large by both being caught out of bed at the same time. They both made it back with a few minutes to spare, months of practice honed their skill in navigating the castle after late night trysts.

Ron and Hermione were not in their usual spot by the fire when he arrived. Not surprised that they had gone up to bed, Harry decided to wait a few minutes before going up himself to ensure they were asleep. He didn't want to talk to them about Daphne anymore tonight. He took his usual chair in front of the fire and stared into the embers, allowing himself to become lost in thought. The only other Gryffindors up at this time were a few especially dedicated seventh years trying to get an extra bit of revising done for their upcoming N.E.W.T.'s. Not for the first time in the last year, he thought of Sirius's worn face and messy hair, the burden of years in Azkaban always somewhat mitigated by the smile on his face when he sneaked into the fireplaces of Hogwarts to talk with Harry. Harry was sure Sirius would be on his side in this. Sirius had known plenty of Slytherins who weren't terrible people and would have trusted Harry's judgment in the matter. The fact that she was quite attractive certainly wouldn't hurt matters in Sirirus's eyes either. Harry was overcome by sadness, pangs that had diminished over the course of the year, but still rose to the surface every now and then. Sirius would have liked Daphne a lot. Behind her reserved exterior she was an intelligent, sharp-witted, and powerful witch. She would have kept Sirius on his toes. She certainly kept him on his.

The seventh years began packing up their things for the evening and the noise brought Harry out of his reverie. He checked his watch and saw nearly an hour had gone by since he sat dawn. Yawning and stretching, he stood up and made his way up to his bed. Placing his wand in the small stand he had fashioned on the headboard to keep it close by, he took off his glasses and settled onto the cool pillow. As sleep overtook him, and despite the lingering dread of needing to break it off with Daphne before he left to fight Voldemort, one last glimpse of the moonlight streaming in through the windows visible through the top of his four-poster brought him back to the happy memory when the two of them had first gotten together.

The Blasting Hex broke through his shield and even though he was able to dive out of the way and avoid the main thrust of the blow he lost his wand in the progress. Daphne beat him to it, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of her robes before he was able to scramble across the floor to regain it. She trained her wand on him while he rolled onto his back and put his arms up in the air in front of him. He didn't mind being in this position in front of her, he thought absentmindedly before castigating himself for it. She was clever and tenacious, learning rapidly and deploying spells with a creativity and ferocity he couldn't help but be impressed with. He had been fighting this internal battle for weeks now, though. He was merely helping her improve her defensive skills. It wouldn't do to think of her in a romantic sense, no matter how much fun she was to be around.

"Do you yield, Potter?" she said, pushing the wand a little closer to his face. "This is a nice little Christmas gift for you, isn't it? The student becomes the master."

Harry, noticing how close her wand arm was getting to his face and how much she was enjoying her gloating kept her talking, exchanging a few more barbs with her as she moved closer still and started to let her guard down. When she let out a laugh at one of his more self-deprecating jokes he saw his opportunity, using his left arm to push the wand out of the way and his leg to trip her. Her wand slipped through her fingers and Harry was able to catch it off a bounce before it was able to roll away. He was able to bind her ropes before she recovered and added a gag for good measure, savoring his victory in silence for a moment. Eventually her glaring became too much and he laughed, dispelling the restraints and handing her back her wand.

"You almost had me this time, Greengrass. Which provides another valuable lesson. It's best to finish a fight when you have the advantage. Otherwise you might lose it." He smiled, despite the embarrassment of defeat he couldn't help but be somewhat proud of how much he imparted knowledge he imparted on Daphne over the last few months. "You did, for all intents and purposes, have me beat. So hats off to you."

She grumbled, putting her wand back in her pocket and rubbing a spot on her forearm where the rope had been cutting into her bare skin. "I suppose I'll take it."

She walked over to her bag, removing a bottle of wine and two glasses, pulling up two chairs and gesturing for Harry to sit down. They had taken to spending a few minutes chatting at the end of their meetings, developing a camaraderie that Harry found surprising at first but came to enjoy as time went on. What had originally been a couple of minutes to discuss the things they had worked on that day and to then set up the next meeting had evolved to include that as well as some time to just relax and blow off steam with someone they hadn't spent the last six years with. Harry found it refreshing to have a new perspective on things after spending nearly the entirety of his time at Hogwarts in the company of Ron and Hermione and to a lesser extent, Dumbledore. Harry liked to think he did the same for her but she was hard to read. Even though she wasn't nearly as taciturn as when they first started meeting, it felt like she was trying to avoid opening up to him.

She handed him a glass of wine. He hadn't had much alcohol other than the occasional drink at the Burrow over the summer at one of their large family gatherings or when one of the Weasley boys snuck in a bottle of Firewhiskey that they drink by the pond, whiling away a summer evening. He took a sip and found it quite enjoyable.

"I'm not sure if you like wine but I talked one of our seventh years into procuring this for me the last time he was in Hogsmeade. Consider it a thank you for taking the time to work with me this term. I really appreciate it."

Harry smiled, continuing to sip the wine. "No problem. I was thinking maybe after Christmas we could work on some new things together, like conjuring and Transfiguration and the like. We've covered most of the defensive techniques I know and I think we'd be better served learning some new stuff then working on perfecting a Bludgeoning Curse or Disarming Spell." He paused, feeling a slight blush make its way onto his cheeks. "If you want to keep working together that is."

She placed a hand on his arm. The long fingers were warm on his skin, she absentmindedly squeezed and sat back in her chair, lapsing into one of those prolonged silence Harry had come to expect from her. He didn't mind all that much, not being much of a talker himself. It was sometimes nice to just sit in a companionable silence with another person. Emboldened by the drink, he asked her a question that had been plaguing him ever since their first meeting in the hallway and he had stopped asking ever since she stonewalled him in their first session together.

"Why did you come to me for help?"

She didn't meet his eyes. "Because you're the best."

He persisted. "But why?"

"War is coming," she said, looking past Harry at the back of the room, her eyes not focusing on anything. "And my family has made enemies. Ten months out of the year I reside in a dungeon with some of the children of those enemies."

Harry was discomforted by this revelation but remained silent. He didn't want to derail her now that she was talking to him about something other than magic, Quidditch, and school gossip.

"During the first war we were aligned with the Dark Lord," she must have caught Harry's growing anger because she placed a hand on him again. "It was not out of any desire to see Muggleborns and Muggles killed. My father just saw it as a way to move up in the world, thinking he was going to remove the bureaucrats and old families resistant to change from power. My great-grandfather had made some mistakes several decades prior that had closed the halls of power from the Greengrasses and he wanted to open them again." She took a long drink of wine. "He realized his mistake after the Dark Lord used his growing power not to reform the Ministry but to massacre Muggles instead. Not wanting to be a part of it anymore but knowing that you don't simply hand in your resignation letter to the Dark Lord, he gave what information he had to Dumbledore and fled the country, spending three years abroad before you brought him down. He met my mother in Australia and my sister and I were both born there. It's really thanks to you we were able to return to our home."

"Err...you're welcome." His next comment was more indignant though. "If your father disagreed with Voldemort, why didn't he stay and fight?"

Daphne gave him a sideways glance. Harry could feel the exasperation in it. They simply did not see eye to eye on matters like this. "My father neither agreed with Dumbledore's aims nor did he wish to risk his life staying in the country. Courage is an admirable trait," she said inclining her head towards Harry. "So is self-preservation."

He sat for a minute digesting what she told him. It made sense. He wanted to reject her and her family outright for supporting Voldemort in the first place, but with the little he knew about the first war he was aware it wasn't as clear cut as good against evil in the first few years. Her father's actions also weren't courageous in the Gryffindor sense, but it required a significant risk to both publicly stop supporting Voldemort as well as giving information on the dark wizard to Voldemort.

"The world is never as black and white as you want it to be," she said, refilling both of their wine glasses.

"I know that. Things would be easier that way, though."

She laughed. "Yes they would. If it were I'd just be the cunning Slytherin trying to use to advance my own ends!"

Harry chuckled too. "And I'd just be the noble Gryffindor, trying to save you from yourself."

They both laughed together, clinking glasses and drinking more wine. The bottle was growing empty much faster than either had anticipated. They chatted amicably for a while, returning to the lighter fare of Quidditch and classes. They emptied the bottle and began to pack up their things, both quite tipsy. Discussing their Christmas plans, she was spending it in the Azores with her family while Harry would be staying at Hogwarts this year, they started to move to the door. Curfew was growing closer but neither seemed in a hurry to leave the other behind. Harry couldn't help but notice how attractive Daphne was in this moment, illuminated in the moonlight that lit the room in lieu of the torches they had extinguished, a sparkle in her eye and a genuine smile on her lips in place of the usual frown or smirk often present. An awkward air settled between the two of them. Emboldened by the alcohol, Harry spoke.

"So what are we?"

She hoisted her bag over her shoulder, looking at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

His face took on a very serious expression. "If we aren't just a Slytherin and Gryffindor, then what are we?"

She moved closer to him, her height putting her on nearly the same level as he. He could smell her perfume, a light and earthy smell, like a forest after a rainfall, as his dark green eyes might her pale blue ones. Her lips stood out from the paleness of her face. Harry couldn't keep his eyes off of them. She placed a hand on her chest. Her voice was soft when she responded.

"We're just Harry and Daphne, trying to make it through the war alive."

She leaned ever so closer and Harry took a chance, wrapping his arms around her slender form and touching his lips to hers. When she relaxed he hugged her tighter and pressed his lips more firmly to hers. A quiet sigh escaped her lips that spurred him onwards. She did not hesitate, matching his intensity. They broke apart after a few moments, flushed and breathing deeply. They smiled goofy smiles at each other.

"I thought you'd never do that," she said. "I was practically screaming from the rooftops the last few weeks."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "No...you were very subtle."

She smiled and kissed him again. "We have to get back. Happy Christmas, Harry."

He watched her go and followed a minute later, making sure she was well clear of the room. He fell into bed later that night thinking of the kiss they shared, how her slender form felt in his arms, how her breasts felt pushed against his chest. The feel of her lips on his, the smell of her in his nose. It was far more intoxicating than any wine. He knew he couldn't see her before she got on the Hogwarts Express to head home the next day but he looked forward to her return.

A/N: Couple of notes on the story. It's going to be short one, 15K to 20K words. I've got most of it written, just need to flush out a few more scenes and do some revising.

This takes place during sixth year. I'm mostly using that general "atmosphere" for the story more than the plot points of HBP itself.

I tried to do something other than cliche "Ice Queen" in this piece. It'll be up to you all if I succeeded in the attempt.

Thanks for reading! I should have the next chapter up soon.