A/N: Sorry for the long wait, university nearly killed me. Economics and Law of Education together is not a joke.

Chapter 11: Mirror mirror

Word spread like wildfire through the various Hogwarts houses that something was going horribly amiss in Slytherin house. Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy were in a war, forcing people to decide on a side, though some would argue that Draco Malfoy was the idiot making the students choose and Daphne was just the receiver of those who didn't want to join Malfoy.

The proud house was divided in two, screw the ongoing war with Gryffindor. Gryffindors, however, were confused and unsure of how to handle it.

That was why, Snape thought, it was time for a house meeting. He rather preferred private meetings with individual students, that way he could deal with disciplinary problems. The last house meeting he had organised was for the Triwizard Tournament and before that – Sirius Black's escape.

He'd posted a note in the Common Room that morning: House meeting after dinner. Compulsory for everyone. Do not be late. Prof. S Snape.

He knew they would all be early – he was an educator not to be messed with.

Severus Snape, in all his billowing glory, entered the Common Room and found his students waiting, all one hundred and seventy two of them. Granted, they were scattered all over the place.

"Evening," Snape said, cocking one eyebrow upwards as the portrait closed behind him.

"Evening, professor Snape." They chorused in return. The Potions professor shed his cloak, hung it over the couch and stepped forward.

"I am disappointed," He drawled, "My own house turning on itself?"

"With all due respect, sir, we have a traitor in our midst." Draco Malfoy spoke up. Snape supressed the urge to roll his eyes, but only barely. Draco was one for the dramatics.

"Why is that, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked coolly. He didn't particularly enjoy being interrupted , but there was one way to handle the conflict and it was to encourage his students to speak their minds.

"Greengrass is consorting with mudbloods and half-bloods!" Malfoy burst out.

"Language." Snape admonished his godson. His eyes widened in disbelief at this. Draco wasn't used to being put in his place by Snape. The professor had always felt that Draco was a slight annoyance, but after the blond's activities with Umbridge the previous year, the Slytherin head felt like he had to take the boy down a few notches.

"Exactly how am I a traitor?" Greengrass burst out, "I am being resourceful."

"Resourceful? Greengrass, it's Harry Potter! You're snogging the bloody Boy-Who-Lived! Do you have a wish to die a painful and humiliating death?" Draco demanded. Snape was slightly entertained.

"No, Draco, but I do have free will and I have the ability to defy whatever my father felt had to be drilled into my head! I found a friend in Harry, and the so-called mudbloods I consort with. They took me in when the pureblood world turned its back on me when I dared to defy their rules!"

"The rules are there to protect us! To keep the dirt from the purity!"

"Fuck purity!" The Slytherin girl screamed. Snape wanted to admonish her, but he knew it would only hinder the argument. "Purity is a sham and a way to approve of incestuous relationships. Do you want to fuck your cousin, Draco? Are you happy to have a sick, twisted little freak as a kid? Like your auntie Bellatrix?"

"How dare you…"

"I dare because I know what the truth is!" Greengrass struck back, "Your mother and father are cousins, aren't they? Second cousins, to be precise."

"You vile little…"

"As for me consorting with the other houses, don't you think I'm being clever? Harry is the best duelist among the student body, Granger is the cleverest, Lovegood has resources, Weasley has numbers!"

"So you're doing it for popularity?"

"I'm doing it to win! I'm doing it to survive the war against Voldemort. And I, for one, will not become a little pawn to move around on a chess board!"

There were a few gasps at her using the Dark Lord's name, but no one dared to mention it. Greengrass was a formidable duelist herself, after all.

"And you don't think Potter is using you as a pawn?"

"No, I don't, because we shared things you wouldn't understand." She snapped at him. Malfoy looked about to burst, but Snape took this as his chance to interrupt.

"This is why we're divided," He said, "We're the one house that the rest of the school turns against. We stand alone – why would you want us to turn on each other?"

"Professor, we are purebloods. We keep it that way…" Malfoy tried to say calmly, but Snape saw him clench his fists into balls and a pink tinge coloured his pale cheeks.

"No, we are not all purebloods," Cyrus Bishop said lazily, "I mean; I can name all of the half-bloods in this house." The boy kept his eyes focused on his head of house. Snape nodded in agreement. "Even the odd muggleborn." Bishop continued, still not looking away.

"You're lying." Malfoy accused. Bishop raised an eyebrow to his professor, as if asking him.

"It isn't," Snape said, "I kept the information to myself for obvious reasons."

"It's an abomination!" Malfoy burst out, "Mudbloods in Slytherin? Salazar would turn in his gra-" But whatever Salazar would turn in was cut off by the blond boy's gasps. Snape tried hard not to sneer in satisfaction – the Malfoy heir's tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He immediately knew Greengrass had been the one to cast the spell under her breath. He gathered that his old Potions textbook had fallen into her hands.

"Salazar Slytherin was many things, but a hater of muggleborns is not one of them. A mild distrust, yes, but not a complete hatred." The DADA teacher said, before sighing heavily, "Salazar valued a number of traits: resourcefulness, ambition, cunning, leadership, wisdom… but not the murder of muggleborns."

"Explain the Chamber of Secrets then, sir," Tristan Rowle said, "Because that seems to be against everything you're saying."

"A rash decision made in anger." Snape said calmly. "It adds to the mystery of this school."

"Every founder had their own dirty little secret." Bishop said, "Salazar just kept a big old snake in a creepy chamber to scare off little kids."

"It is true. Every founder had a place in the castle to call their own." Snape confirmed. Malfoy's eyes were bulging in their sockets, his mind was screaming. "It is because of your foolish thoughts and attitudes that cause the world to think of us as evil."

"Some of us are evil." Bishop grinned, malice glinting in his eyes. Snape tried hard not to shiver – it was a very chilling thing to see in a sixteen year old boy.

"From this point on, students, we are one. To the outside world, we stand together. You may not all like one another's choices, but that is something we don't share with the rest of the world. We support each other; we are polite to each other. Inside this Common Room, we argue. No wands will be raised, we have structured arguments."

"We?" Greengrass asked. "You too, sir?"

"Yes, Miss Greengrass. I am still and, will forever be, a Slytherin prince."

. . .

Harry stared at it. He had completely forgotten about it and he wouldn't have found it if he hadn't been looking for a sock.

It was the gift Sirius had given him the previous year (and a broken quill, empty butterbeer bottle and an old 'Harry Potter Stinks' badge. The teenager was terrified to open the package and anxious at the same time. It was as if everything he had tried to "get over" was back, building up again.

He couldn't go through that again; the last time he did, he almost killed himself. He couldn't believe he had done that – what a cowardly thing to do.

Then again – he was stronger this time. He tore the wrapping paper open, read the note and his heart skipped a beat.

If he had used this… he could've… saved Sirius from being killed.

Maybe… maybe he could still use it?

He had to know, had to try.

"Sirius?" He said softly. He wasn't expecting any answer, but he could hope, couldn't he? He stared at the small mirror, his own green eyes staring back at him.

The image rippled and Harry's heart nearly stopped.

"Harry!"

The boy couldn't help himself, fat tears rolled down his cheeks at the sight of his godfather, looking handsome as ever, except he looked happier. His face was fuller than the last time Harry had seen him.

"No, don't cry!" Sirius said, worrying evident in his voice, "I'm fine, see? I've been wondering if this will work. I had it on me when I died and, well… the point is, I am glad it was on me."

"Sirius… I was so lost. I mean, you were gone. I never knew my parents and then you and I wasn't alone anymore…" Harry stumbled over his words, his throat was tight and he had trouble swallowing.

"Oh, Harry…" Sirius looked like he wanted to hug Harry, but was unable to do so. "I'm here, son, I'm here and you can call on me anytime. Just don't ask me what it's like to die and where I am – I'm not allowed to tell anyone." Sirius was trying to lighten the mood, it seemed.

"Not allowed?" Harry frowned, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He knew he would have to wash his face after this. It was so good to see a familiar, friendly face.

"Don't ask. Oh, hey, I want to try something…" Sirius said, looking around. The next thing Sirius was gone, but it was only a moment and then another image appeared.

"Harry?" The woman's voice asked. A beautiful, red haired woman, still young as she had been in death, with bright green eyes, like his own, stared up at him. "Oh… Padfoot! It worked!"

"Mum?" The seeker's eyes burned with fresh tears. He couldn't say anything else, mostly due to something blocking his throat, something thicker. He tried to swallow around it, but he couldn't.

"He's so handsome, James, just like you," Lily Potter said, "Harry, sweetheart, can you talk to me?"

The boy laughed, sniffling and he wiped his tears again with his sleeve, "Hey, mum. I miss you."

"I miss you too, honey."

Her image disappeared and another one appeared; one that shared Harry's dishevelled hair and glasses.

"Harry…" It was James Potter. Harry felt another surge of tears come on, just as he saw his father blinking rapidly. Choking back tears of the ghosts of his past… Rita Skeeter had a knack for words, he thought.

"Hi, dad."

"You are a handsome devil, aren't you?" James winked at him. "Harry, can you do us a favour and enlarge your mirror? We all can't fit inside a hand mirror."

"I can do that?" Harry was astonished. James nodded, and Harry tapped the mirror, and mumbled the spell. The mirror grew until both his parents and Sirius appeared in the picture. "Now I can see all of you."

"We are of proud of you," Lily said, wiping her eyes, "You have come so far. Sirius told us all about you. You have such a good heart… and you're so much like us… and you… oh, Harry¸ my baby boy you've grown up and I wasn't there…" Lily Potter couldn't keep it in anymore and she just burst into tears. James immediately put his arm around her and drew her close to him.

"I was a seeker too, you know?" James said, "We won a lot. Of course I was a bit of a ponce…"

"I saw that. You were a jerk to Professor Snape." Harry pointed out, thinking of what he had witnessed the previous year.

"I'm not proud of it, Harry, but I was young… and I wish I could apologise to him. I can't. It's a tad hard to being dead and all." James smiled a smile that could be considered sad. The irony struck Harry.

"How is he?" Lily asked. Harry frowned, why would she want to know?

"He's fine. He's been a great help recently. I've done a few things I'm not proud of too, and he has helped me keep it quiet."

"Harry Potter – what did you do?" Lily asked threateningly. Harry shivered – his mother was fierce. It was almost like Mrs. Weasley when she was angry. Mrs. Weasley still terrified him, she could actually strangle him.

"This is a happy reunion, mum. Come on, I'm your baby boy and you are so proud of me. I'm handsome, remember?"

His mother folded her arms and kept staring at him. Not staring – glaring.

"Dad?" He looked to his father for help. James just threw his hands in the air. Harry translated that into 'You're on your own'.

"I kind of killed my girlfriend's father." He confessed. Lily's eyes went wide and James spluttered.

"You have a girlfriend?" Sirius said nervously, eyeing the couple next to him, "That's great. Is she pretty?" His voice thinned near the end and he had to clear his throat.

"Very pretty."

"What's her na-"

"WHAT?" Lily and James yelled at the same time.

"I'm a handsome baby boy remember?" Harry winced. He knew he would have to explain why and what happened. He launched into a retelling of what had happened that night. He saw his mother visibly relax and his father stared at him in awe.

Sirius looked green as his eyes blackly stared back at Harry, as if trying to deny the truth.

"Oh, I think I'm going to be sick… James, Lily… I know murder is wrong… and you'd probably murder me if I wasn't already dead… but I agree with Harry's actions. That man was scum and he deserved to die the death he died."

"So do I," Lily said quietly, "Doing that to a child…" She hid her face behind her hands, "And wanting to keep her nearby as a grown woman to… that's disgusting! That… that pig! That monster! That vile excuse for a human being! Harry, you should've shoved his own flesh down his throat like the dog that he is!"

"Hey!" Sirius said, offended.

"I'm proud of you for making a stand, Harry," James agreed, he, unlike his wife, seemed pensive, as if planning some horrible death, or second death as it were, for the man. His fists were curled into balls. "He destroyed her life! He deserved it. That… the word monster doesn't do him justice."

"He belongs with other creatures like him, so they can do to him what he had done to her." Sirius sighed, "I would sic Moony on him."

"Thanks, guys," Harry was relieved, "I don't think killing the man was right… but he could've hurt her again – and that would've been my fault if I couldn't protect her."

"What is this?" A loud voice asked. Harry turned to face whoever had interrupted them, but he was alone in the dormitory. He hoped he wasn't hearing voices again, he didn't feel like battling a massive snake at that moment.

"Sir…" Lily said. Harry looked back at the mirror to find all three of them looking at someone he couldn't see. All three of them were suddenly white as sheets, terror in their expressions.

"You brought that? Here?" The voice was both surprised and impressed.

"I didn't die… I just sorted skipped through realities." Sirius shrugged, relaxing his shoulders. He kept his eyes trained on the person Harry couldn't see.

"I see." The voice sounded familiar, though Harry couldn't quite place it just yet. "I will allow it. For now. Mr. Potter, can you hear me?"

"Yes?" Harry found himself sweating profusely. This person, if it was a person, made him nervous. What was he? Who was he that he made the dead fear him?

"You must tell no one of this. If you do, I will take this away from you. I will, one day, allow you to share it. Today is not that day."

"Who are you?" The dark-haired boy asked.

"I am Death." The voice answered. "Say your goodbyes, Mr. Potter."

"Bye, sweetheart," Lily said, "We'll talk again."

"Bye, mum. I love you."

"Goodbye, son. We're proud of you, remember that." James hugged his wife.

"Soon, Harry. And we'll help if we can." Sirius said, then the image rippled again and Harry was staring back at his own reflection.

He couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

At dinner Harry sat down at the Slytherin table. He didn't even see the dirty looks some of Daphne's house mates sent his way, and some confused looks others sent his way, mostly due to the massive smile that tried to wrap itself around his face.

"What are you smirking about, Potter?" Daphne teased him, hooking her hand around his arm.

"I have a beautiful girlfriend, I have the best of friends, I have the best of Quidditch positions to play…"

"Aren't you in a happy mood?" Daphne laughed and pecked him on the cheek.

"Give me one reason not to be." Harry challenged her.

"Voldemort, the looming war, aurors tracking us, Bishop is a lunatic, Malfoy is a prick…" She ticked them off on her fingers.

The Gryffindor pretended to think about it, "Nope." He leaned forward and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips.

. . .

Transfiguration was a class Harry shared with both Ron and Hermione, who he was burning to tell about the mirror. He wouldn't, because he abhorred the idea of losing the contact he had with his parents and Sirius, but he wished he could.

Professor McGonagall was repeating something for Hermione, and Harry was so excited that he understood what she had just explained to them. She wanted them to write an essay about the bird-conjuring charm and to practice doing it non-verbally.

"Mr. Potter, why aren't you taking notes of this?" McGonagall asked, sighing, "Miss Granger, I forbid you to share your notes with him."

Hermione gave him a pitying look, but Harry waved it off.

"Professor, I understood. Transfiguration is science – you have to get it exactly right. You have to swing your wand and say the incantation, or rather think it, I guess." Harry shrugged, "But it has a specific move and accent and if you don't get that loud 'boom' at the end, you're in trouble, because you're not doing it right."

"Would you care to demonstrate your newfound understanding?" McGonagall looked somewhat annoyed. Harry thought it was because he had simplified her instructions from words like "balanced acts of both the oral and visual capacity" and "the auditorial presence once the incantation has been completed".

Harry was secretly gleeful, he had already covered this with Daphne and he had been rather fond of his yellow, twittering friends. He wanted to conjure a cat too, but Daphne wouldn't let him.

His wand was brought forth from his sleeve and he waved his wand, screaming the word Avis! in his head before a straight line of little birds burst from his wand, accompanied by the loud canon-like sound that he needed. Some students had jumped at the sound, but Hermione and Ron only smiled at him. He returned their grin and turned to face his professor.

"I had time to read this summer, ma'am," Harry replied to her look of shock, "And Hermione and Daphne helped a lot."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him. The teenager thought it was hard to determine whether she was angry or impressed.

"Very well, then, ten points to Gryffindor for your ambition, Mr. Potter."

. . .

Daphne and her younger sister were alone for the first time in a long time. The elder of the two felt bewildered, as if everything she'd known about her sister had evaporated into thin air. She would've thought she'd been obliviated, but that would only be an excuse.

"Daphne, why did you leave?" Astoria asked as the two at down in the courtyard near a waterfall. Bishop was there too, sharpening a scythe.

She considered her sister's question, marvelling in the fact that her sister had abandoned all tact and gone straight into the lions', uh snakes', den… pit?

One look at her sister made her abandon everything her parents had taught her and she slumped, her shoulders turned down and her head hanging.

"He wanted me to marry Blaise, Tori. I couldn't do that. I was so sick of him ruling over my every waking moment, deciding what I would eat, how I would act, how I would dress, who I would go out with…"

"But you liked Theo!" Astoria intervened. Daphne inclined her head. It was true, no denying that.

"I did, but that's in the past. He even decided who my friends were. You never went through that."

"Because I was sorted into Ravenclaw. He never gave me any attention, not like he gave you, and he never missed an opportunity to raise you above me. I did better than you did in third year, but he didn't even notice. Not even after you left! All he wanted to do was to find you and bring you back home. He never spared a second glance at me." Astoria said, breathing deeply when she was done.

Daphne smiled wryly – lucky Astoria. She would've preferred being ignored to being noticed, especially by that bastard.

"Be glad. I was under so much pressure. My life was planned out – you had freedom. And our mother did nothing, Astoria, to stop him and his vile behaviour," Daphne spat, shivering again. She was honestly relieved that the man was dead.

"He praised you." Astoria went on, "You were his little girl."

Daphne saw red – or a kettle boiling – at the thought of being his little girl. She never had a father, she had a monster who crept up behind her and touched all the forbidden places of her body. He had left her virginity intact, but the rest… She wished she could kill him again. And again. And again and torture him so he wished he was dead.

"I hated him." Daphne aid boldly, "I always did. I still do. I'm not going back to that place you call home, and you can tell our mother that she needn't bother with me anymore."

"How can you say that?" Astoria's eyes were blinking with tears, "She cried every night after you were gone! She missed you! Again, Daphne was the one, the only bloody one, they cared for. The house elves looked after me, mum just stuck in her room all day while dad was out looking for you!"

"Our mother betrayed me, Astoria, she betrayed us. Dad was a fucking monster and you don't know because I've been taking the hits all these years!" Daphne managed to whisper and scream in the same sentence. She was just glad they were alone, except for Cyrus.

"What did he do to make you hate him so?" Astoria asked, looking at her hands in her lap. Daphne blanched, she hadn't planned on telling her sister. She couldn't.

"Just be glad he's gone." Daphne sighed, somewhat calming down. "Tori, I don't want us to fight. I want to tell you everything and trade stories with you…"

"Will you tell me what he did? One day, not now." Astoria's voice sounded small. Daphne put her arms around her sister and rested her head on her sister's shoulder.

"Maybe." She answered. Though, not if she could avoid it.

"How touching." A voice sneered. Daphne groaned inwardly – Draco had shown up. She would bet that he didn't think Snape's warning applied to him.

The Slytherin girl pulled away from her sister and was shocked to see that it wasn't just Draco and his two cronies (Crabbe had been replaced); they were accompanied by seventh year Tristan Rowle.

In Slytherin house, appearing at someone's side meant more than one thing.

First: it meant that you chose the person you're standing with. Second – you're double-crossing the person you're standing with. Three – you were just walking and happened to walk alongside this person (never discount the obvious, after all).

Daphne should've expected it.

A wand was thrust forward from Rowle, and she pushed her sister off the fountain wall, making a surprised yelp come from her sister's mouth.

The spell hit her left arm and it started to swell up. She was glad, at that moment, that she was dating Harry Potter and he'd taught her to keep wand up her sleeve, because she whipped it out and slashed the air causing Goyle launch backwards, being the biggest and worst duelist, she could at least take him out first.

Rowle didn't look anything but calm as he swiped his wand in a smooth motion and a purple light shot at her. She cast a shield, making sure her sister was behind her, before being hit again, this time from Draco. Her sister was a distraction she didn't feel like she needed at that moment, but tried to shield her all the same.

She bared her teeth, launched herself forward and screamed: "Impedimenta!" Her curse was aimed at the younger boy, who ducked and the spell hit a wall.

"Stupid broad," Rowle cursed, "Stupefy!"

She shielded herself again. She was on the defensive, and she hated it. She needed to curse these idiots, but doing that would make Astoria vulnerable to attack.

"You're soft on her, Rowle!" Draco called to him, but what exactly he was about to curse her with she would never know, because a large rock hit his head and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Daphne whirled around, finding a guilty looking Astoria.

"Good shot." She said calmly before deflecting the curse Rowle sent her way. Looks like Astoria could hold her ground, needed now that Goyle was back and brandishing his wand.

She stood with her feet slightly apart and her other arm raised, ready to protect herself physically if needed.

Rowle's eyes were wide and his teeth visible in a nasty snarly as he screamed an incantation she didn't know, she cast a shield, but the light circled her and hit her in the back. She shrieked as the feeling of a knife sliding down her spine struck her. She grit her teeth, but her mind was blank. The pain was overruling her senses and she was unsure as to what to do.

Astoria came to her rescue by protecting them both from Rowle's onslaught of spells. The Slytherin girl focused on healing herself; she felt a warm feeling as the cut healed.

Goyle cast a spell at them, but Daphne just flicked her wand at him from under Astoria's shield, making him shriek. He was a nuisance.

Daphne stretched to her full height. What was that spell her father had been so fond off?

"Coward," She sneered at Rowle, whipping her wand sharply, sending a bright orange ray of light towards him, his wand clattered to the floor a little bit away from him as his hand swelled up with boils that popped and oozed puss, and she saw terror on his pinched face for the first time, "Take on a girl with two others?" She drew a line in the air, and the line appeared on his other arm and it poured copious amounts blood, "When her back is turned?" This time she drew a cross in the air, and he was thrown against a wall. She was in front of him now, and she looked down at where his wand was.

"Traitor." He spat at her.

"Weakling." She said coldly.

"How dare…" He started, but she sat her foot lightly down on his wand. His eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

"Is that a dare?" She laughed softly, sticking her wand under his chin, "This is war, Rowle. And we all know who you're fighting for."

With that she set her foot down, the wand snapped under her heel, and she walked towards a shocked sister.

"Who are you?" Astoria asked in awe. Daphne didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing the way her sister was looking at her.

"This is who I am. No Oscar to mould me into a perfect little girl. Take me or leave me, Astoria, it's up to you." She walked further, to the common room to put on a clean uniform, and it dawned on her that war had reached Hogwarts.

. . .

"He did what?" Harry growled. Daphne had just filled him in on what had happened with her housemate. Harry found said boy across the hallway and shot him a glare. Rowle returned his look, and Harry flicked his wand under the table. He chose one of the Prince's spells, one that would probably get Hermione mad at him. He hid his laughter rather well when Rowle's tongue started to stick to the roof of his mouth with a piece of chicken stuck between the two places.

"Astoria and I taught him a lesson, Harry, but it got me thinking: maybe in the next Union meeting, we cover warding spells to protect our belongings and ourselves, including our clothes from enchantments?"

"That's genius, Daphne!" Ron said, smiling widely. Hermione grinned too.

"Sort of like Fred and George's hats!" Hermione added excitedly, "We'll owl them and ask them for the enchantments? And even a few hats."

"Not all of us can afford hats, Hermione." Ron said softly, looking at his plate of food. Harry felt bad for his friend.

"I'm sponsoring it, Ron." Daphne said, smiling widely, "It's a good investment, don't you think? I mean, it protects the ones I care about. But I wonder if you will owl your brother for me? I think they'd be nicer about it."

Ron smiled shyly at her, both thankful and bashful. The redhead probably didn't know what to think or do, so he just nodded.

"That's generous of you, Daphne." Hermione smiled too. The bushy haired girl caught her friend's eye and she winked. Daphne beamed.

"Daphne, you're bleeding." Harry pointed out. She had taken off her robes and laid it next to her, but he could see the red through her white shirt.

"What?"

Harry gently touched her back and showed her his hand; the blood was seeping through her shirt. The Slytherin's eyes widened as she felt her own back, and she jumped up.

"I've got to get to the Hospital Wing." She said urgently, dashing from the Great Hall. Harry scooped up her robes and books, shooting his friends a worried look and ran after her.

Once there, Madam Pomfrey was talking to Daphne, who she had drawn a curtain around.

"You had a knife in your back?" The nurse sounded unimpressed, "And tried to heal it yourself? My dear girl, you should've straight to me. The back is a vulnerable area and it's harder to heal what you can't see."

"Daphne?" Harry called tentatively.

"Mr. Potter, would you mind coming back later?" Madam Pomfrey asked kindly, poking her head around the corner.

"Can he come in, Ma'am?" He heard his girlfriend ask.

"You're indecent, Miss Greengrass!" Pomfrey shrieked.

"Please, ma'am? It isn't anything he hasn't seen before." Daphne said, the Gryffindor could see her shadow shrug.

"Absolutely not, Miss Greengrass." Pomfrey maintained her ground, "Mr. Potter, you can come back tonight after dinner, when it is visiting hours."

"I actually just came to give these," He put her robes and books down outside the curtain; "I'll see you tonight, Daph."

"Bring flowers, Harry, and chocolate." She teased him, and Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes before smiling warmly. She nodded to the teenaged boy as he left, and Harry ran back to the Great Hall.

He found her dorm mates and asked them to get her homework if possible. Both girls, a bit surprised, agreed to his request.

. . .

Daphne disliked this day. First she had to have an emotionally vulnerable day by discussing something she wouldn't mind being hidden forever, then she had to face down three of her housemates, which wasn't all that gruelling, until Rowle's curse, as it were, was a bit more than simply a cutting curse – it was one of those curses that refused to healed for a whole day, but it made you unaware of it for the first few hours and then you just bled out. It was an awful curse – and the seventh year girl wanted it in her arsenal. She would have to write all the curses down one day.

The nurse had made her drink an array of potions (with a variety of colours and tastes) to heal it and replenish the blood she'd lost. She was to stay the night until the cut was sealed and Madam Pomfrey was sure the curse was a thing of the past.

The day didn't get any easier later, because just as she was about to take a bite of her dinner, the family owl swooped into the Hospital Wing and she jumped so high that she threw her mashed potatoes at a wall.

"Bloody owl," She cursed as it landed next to her, holding out its leg. She took the letter and the owl took off again – she assumed she didn't have to reply.

It was one envelope but two letters. One was in her mother's familiar handwriting and one was from Gringotts. She lifted a curious eyebrow at that. She decided that her mother's note probably held some explanation.

Dear Daphne

As you must have heard by now, your father was murdered and delivered to my door. I don't know who did it and the Aurors are working on it. I apologise for not using a euphemism, darling, but this letter calls for urgency.

This was left to you in your father's will, I don't know what it says, the goblins at the bank made sure I knew that they would find out if I had read it and would make me pay for it as well.

Now, to other matters. I know you resented the man, but he is dead and he was your father. The funeral is in a week's time, and I implore you to attend. Think of our image, Daphne, what we represent to the world.

It has also come to my attention that you have made alliances with other houses and the so-called light ones. You do realise what this means, don't you? You will be hunted down and murdered like your father was. You will be prosecuted by the Dark Lord's followers for siding with the boy who lived and the like. You will become a target and even your extensive knowledge about duelling won't save you. See reason, dear child, and come back to us.

Love

Your Mother

Daphne stared at the letter. Her mother couldn't be serious? She had to be out of her mind. Mrs. Greengrass knew exactly how Daphne felt about Oscar and what he did to her. It was despicable and the woman never made any attempt to stop it.

There was no way in hell, heaven or earth that she would attend the funeral. Not a damn way.

With a sigh she put the letter on the bedside table and turned to the one her father left her. A magenta seal covered it, and as soon as she touched it, it sprung open.

Dear Miss Daphne Greengrass

We, here at Gringotts Wizard bank, would like to offer our condolences for the death of your paternal party.

Your family has had a longstanding relationship with this establishment and we hope that you intend to continue it. Both your parents opened a trust fund for you when you were a child and now that you are of age, this fund has become available to you, as well as half of your family's funds, since you are now the heiress and your father named you and your sister, Astoria, as beneficiaries in the case of his death.

Included in this letter, you will notice, is a small gold card. The goblins of Gringotts have decided to embrace the muggle way and will now be using a card system, which is both safer and more logical than carrying around a large amount of gold.

Sincerely

Gragfang

Head of Greengrass Accounts

Well, Daphne thought, at least there was that. She was now an heiress and young men would flock to her to marry her for her money.

She scowled and slammed the letter down – this day wasn't getting any better. Did her father think she would forgive him if he left her all of his wealth? Well, that was a bullshit idea, to be honest.

Her forgiveness couldn't be bought.

. . .

Harry knew when his girlfriend was ticked. She wasn't ticked off a lot – yes, she was irritated, but rarely could he describe her as truly pissed off and get away with it.

The last few days, after she got out of the Hospital Wing, she was moody, kept to herself and he found her more than once beating up a tree.

After a week of this and the older girl not wanting to open up to him, he decide he'd had enough and was going to make her stop torturing the local flora. He stole her out of the last classroom she had that Friday, dragged her to a forbidden passage by her hands and surprised her with two small slips of paper.

"Harry, I don't have time for this…" She started, then she caught sight of the papers. Her eyes widened. "Harry, is that what I think it is?"

"Two tickets to see a movie," He confirmed, "The Addams Family. I don't know what it's about, but Cyrus recommended it so it can't be that bad." He shrugged, "Would the pretty maiden go see a strange film with a talented seeker, such as myself?"

The seeker saw her shoulders relax and the frown slipped from her face, "Harry, you're so silly."

"I know. Now, please?" He took her hands in his, the tickets poking out to the side awkwardly, "For me?"

"Fine, Harry, but after dinner, I'm starving." She agreed. Harry grinned at her.

"I'm taking you to dinner too, of course. What kind of date would it be if I didn't?" The sixteen year old laughed.

"At least give me time to get out of my uniform, Potter." She kissed his cheek, "And only if I'm buying dinner, and only if I get to eat as much popcorn as I want."

"But…"

"My dad left me half of his money," She said quickly, "That's why I've been avoiding everyone. I feel dirty, Harry. It's like he paid me." She spat it out, disgust on her face.

"I tell you what," He pulled her closer to him and put his hands on her hips, "You take me to dinner. Then we devise a plan to spend all that money in a way that would pain the old bastard and make him turn in his grave."

"Like sponsor the Union?" Daphne grinned, her arms around his neck, "I think we need to get everyone with old wands, newer ones. And cloaks with spells on them. And Ron did order those hats for me; his brothers are just awaiting payment. What if I sponsor them too? But not for jokes, for defensive magic, they're quite talented at it."

"There's the brilliant girl I'm in love with." Harry kissed her sweetly. She didn't kiss him back – which puzzled him. What had he d one wrong now?

"What?" Her voice was small, as if he'd just told her he was part centaur or would be growing a second head. "You – you… you said…"

"That I'm in love with you?" Harry frowned, "Well, I thought it was obvious, Daph."

Daphne's smile was so radiant Harry was afraid it might blind him.

An hour later they met at the same secret passageway. Harry was armed with his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders' Map. He smiled at the girl, now dressed in tight jeans and a comfortable halterneck top.

"You look lovely," He said, and she blushed. The seeker was rather proud of himself – she obviously felt better if he could make her blush.