Harry Potter and the Disastrous Date

By: knuckz

-oxo-

Summary: Harry knew dating wouldn't be easy. But when he's forced to deal with Death Eaters, dragons, debt collectors, and more on his disastrous date with the dangerous Daphne Greengrass, can he save the day and get the girl?

-oxo-

Chapter the First: Where It All Starts

-oxo-

My adventure for this glorious sixth year begins where most of my adventures do: Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. More specifically, it's lunch time in the Great Hall.

I join the Gryffindor table, taking the vacant seat beside Hermione and across from Ron.

"Harry! You took your time to get here. Is something the matter?" she asks me, looking at me distractedly before going back to her book. Her food sits in front of her, forgotten.

"I was furiously spanking the monkey when Snape caught me," I tell her, smirking as I knew that she wasn't paying attention to my words. Nearby, Neville spills a goblet full of pumpkin juice to the shouts of his seatmates; he probably heard me.

Hermione is a smart one, that's for sure. More than just book-smart, she actually understands what she's reading. She's smarter than both Ron and I. I know it, he knows it, and she knows it. She doesn't flaunt it or hold it over us either… not often, at least. She's been there for me even when nobody else has. Goodness knows she's saved my life enough times.

Hell, I should be thanking her on bent knee, or at least with indentured servitude.

And Mr. Ron Weasley… what a guy. He's funny, but he's also stupid, dumb, dim-witted, not to mention a little thick, and often unintelligent. But still, he's pretty funny. And he's had my back through really dangerous situations (almost) every time. A good guy if he's on your side, an idiot if he's not.

I watch in amazement and disgust as Ron mows down a chicken leg-piece. Watching him eat is… something else. Personally, I think Mrs. Weasley left him alone in the bathtub a little too long while he was a kid. Lack of oxygen can damage your brain, I hear.

"So, have you been practicing silent-casting?" Hermione asks me, as she finally puts her book away and starts on the food in front of her. Hermione flicked her wand, her food heating up at the silently-cast spell. I've gotta give to her, she does have dedication to learning magic. She's probably going over every spell she knows to make sure she can cast it silently.

Me, as soon as I can cast one of my more tricky spells silently, I can cast them all silently. It'll likely piss her off when that happens. She may be smarter than me, but I'm better at magic.

"Yeah, I was just practicing a little while ago," I reply, lying through my teeth. Hermione saw right through me.

"Harry," she started disapprovingly, frowning as she ignored her food once more, "You know that Professor Snape is going to call you out specifically. You really should be…"

And thus starts lecture-mode. She better shut up soon or I'll have to stuff something in her mouth to shut her up.

"… and you know that you need all the practice you can ge-mmph!"

"Don't forget to chew, Hermione," I tell her cheerfully as I start on my own lunch. She glares at me for a moment before relenting and actually focussing on her food properly. In front of me, Ron finally notices my existence.

"Oi, Harry! You're here! Didn't see you, mate," he says, grinning at me. I offer him a smile in return. Picking up a single pea at the edge of my plate, I flick it at him, letting it smack him right between the eyes.

"I've been here for some time, Ron," I tell him. He just grins and shrugs, going back to his food. Typical, but I mimic him regardless. Down the table, Ginny gives me a smile, a fact that doesn't go unnoticed by her suddenly grumpy boyfriend, Dean Thomas.

I give her a smile right back as well as a small wave before going back to my food.

Ginny Weasley. She's Ron's little sister by a year. I think her real name is Ginevra.

That's all.

What in the world? What are you thinking, Harry Potter? She obviously digs you! This Ginny Weasley, whoever she is, is your ticket to... and then you realize what the hell you're saying and you shut the hell up.

Moving on…

Ah, actually, it is time to get a move on. Can't afford to be late to Snape's DADA class or he's going to give me detention. I definitely don't want to clean the Sixth Year Slytherin boys' dorm bathroom toilets with my tongue. Malfoy would probably leave me an extra fresh steaming dump if that happened.

I have to keep myself from throwing up at the image. I think I might've eaten too much; I'm feeling nauseous.

I tell Ron and Hermione that I'll meet them there; that they still have a little bit of time. Me, I'm taking no chances. Of all people, Seamus Finnigan calls after me and says he'll accompany me. His Muggle Studies class is in the same vicinity.

"So Harry, how's life these days?" Seamus asks, putting an arm around my shoulder as we walk towards our classes.

"Not bad," I reply, shrugging off his arm, "How're things with you and Lavender?"

"We're taking a break," Seamus replies, grinning. Ah, they've 'broken up' again. For Seamus, that means eventual make-up sex. Freaking sex-fiends. At least I have some semblance of morals. I want to get laid, not insert my penis into just about any girl who'll spread her legs.

"So, any luck with the ladies yet, Harry?" Seamus asks. Damn you, you Irish bastard. He knows I'm a virgin as much as I do. And he must notice how annoyed I am that he brought that up.

"Listen Harry, I'll give you the same advice a great man once told me," Seamus says, speaking softly so as not to be overheard, though we were alone, "There are always consequences in everything you do. Sometimes, you just need to say 'fuck it', and railroad the bitch."

"Your uncle?" I ask, remembering Seamus's many stories about his deadbeat uncle.

"No," he says, shaking his head, "Cormac, from a year above us."

"It's not always that easy, Seamus," I tell him, furrowing my eyebrows at how simple he, and by extension Cormac McLaggen, made it out to be, "Sometimes, people care about what you do a little too much."

Some people really, seriously, fucking care a little bit too fucking much. For fuck's sake. But I'm not angry. Zen, Harry. Zen.

"Sure it is," Seamus replies easily, "Look mate. It's as easy as you make it. So people are gonna care what you do. Like I said, fuck it. Are these people also gonna watch as you lose your cherry, or help you every step of the way?"

Unbidden, an image of Molly Weasley grabbing my hips and moving them back and forth as I bugger a faceless girl comes to mind.

"Fuck you, Seamus. I didn't need that image," I snap at him.

"Well, it's all up to you, Harry," Seamus says, walking away towards his class, "But remember, you're at the top of You-Know-Who's shite-list. And I can't think of anything sadder than dying a virgin."

He has a point, but I didn't choose the virgin life. Everybody else seems to have chosen it on my behalf.

-oxo-

I enter the DADA classroom with plenty of time to spare. For a guy that despises Snape so much, I'm always the first to his class (I am trying to avoid detentions with the guy). So imagine my surprise that there is another person already there.

A girl. Oh goody.

She's sitting quietly at her desk, a book open in front of her. I can't see her face from my angle, but I do see her long, dark hair cascading down behind her chair to the point where I can no longer see it. Unlike Hermione's hair, her hair is as straight as I am. Read: one hundred percent.

The awesome thing about looking at thin girls from behind? You don't know what they look like from the front, so you can automatically classify them as hot until otherwise noted.

At the sound of my footsteps, she looks around at me to see who I am. The first thing I notice is her eyes. Yeah yeah, I know. But it's hard to see breasts under witches' robes!

Her eyes are, be still my beating heart, a perfect amethyst in colour. I've never seen someone with purplish eyes before, and seriously? They're fucking beautiful. Mine are better though. Bitch.

The girl herself is quite pretty. Not drop dead gorgeous, because the world is not that perfect, but she definitely gets two thumbs up in my books. On a scale of one to ten, she'd come in right below Fleur. To clarify what I mean, that's an 8. Fleur rates a 9, and full-blooded Veela's get the 10 as long as they don't transform. And that's without the Veela-attraction magic thing that they do, because that's just cheating.

Barely acknowledging me with a glance, the girl turns back to her book. Oh, ignoring me, eh? Well, how about this? Walking around, I take the seat right next to her. I can tell she's looking at me from the corner of her eye, but I pay her no heed and take out a book of my own. I scroll forward to a random page and pretend to read.

She still doesn't say anything to me. Hmm… I've always heard guys say that it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Well, she hasn't insulted me yet, so that's a point for her.

Grabbing my book, I hold it in front of my face and lean back in my chair. This allows me to look at her without her knowing. I can see that she's reading about an advanced duelling shield. I know that one. As a sixth year, that particular shield is quite hard to cast. Hell, it's hard for the seventh year students as well.

Me, I can do it no problem. I flick forward to the same page she's on as silently as I can, since I don't want to alert her to the fact that I'm spying on her. Setting the book down on the table in front of me, I pretend to go over the details of the spell once more before drawing my wand, making sure she can see me.

My wand movements are precise and perfect. I can feel my magic gathering, and out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the surprise on her face as she also feels it. I'm pretty powerful for a sixteen-year-old. Well, prepare to be impressed, girlie.

With a flourish of my wand, I firmly intone the spell in my mind.

Aegis.

Nothing happens. Wait. That's wrong.

Aegis. Aegis… Aegis! AEGIS!

Okay. That didn't go as planned. Plan B. Whisper extremely softly.

"Aegis."

A silver light bursts out of my wand, creating a large and hollow half-sphere in front of us, convex out. The girl looks at me again. I catch her gaze again, and this time, I can see the amusement in there. Apparently, she heard me whisper.

Suitably embarrassed at my pathetic attempt to impress the girl, I cancel the shield. Right on time too, because a moment later, the door opens and my fellow classmates start entering the room. I ignore them out of frustration.

Stupid silent casting. I still haven't gotten the hang of it. Hermione was right, I should practice with it some more.

It's then that I realize that I have no idea who this girl is. Well, let's see… Slytherin robes. She's obviously in my year if she's in this class. Not a transfer student, because we haven't had any of those. Er… if I can recall correctly, I believe her name is-

Yeah, I haven't the slightest clue.

As soon as everyone takes their seats (I notice Ron and Hermione are seated a bit farther back than I am), Snape bursts into the room like a guy that needs to get to the nearest toilet as quickly as possible, but can't be bothered to run. You know, the lack of Potions class has done wonders for his hair; it's not as greasy as it used to be.

"Settle down," Snape says needlessly. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, despite the fact that he can't see me; he can sense these things. We're sixth years. We don't need to… settle down.

"Today shall be yet another practical class," Snape informs us, glaring at everyone in the room, "As per usual, I do not wish to hear a single spell uttered, though… I understand that some people are quite… abysmal at the mastery over mind that is required for the art of silent-casting."

Oh joy. I watch as Snape scours the room for me, obviously wanting to make an example out of the Chosen One once again. Soon enough, he finds me.

"Potter!"

And here we go. Though I can sense the slight surprise he's feeling at catching me voluntarily sitting beside one of his Slytherins. What's-her-face looks at me as Snape calls my name.

"Goooooood afternoon, Professor Snape!" I respond with a sort of fake cheer. He's not amused.

"Indeed," he responds silkily, "Reiterate it again for me. What are you not to do?"

"Cast a spell aloud?" I respond. I can see the beginnings of a smirk on his face.

"That will be five points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect," he replies. Oh right.

"Cast a spell aloud, sir?" I correct myself, rolling my eyes. Not physically, though. I'm not that crazy. I rolled my mind's eyes.

"Correct. Unfortunately, your countenance shows me that you really do not understand. As we all know, you are abysmal at following the rules. Until I say so, you are not to attempt to cast any non-defensive spell lest your lack of ability damage my students," Snape notifies me.

Whoa whoa whoa. What the fuck? What did I do to deserve that?

I watch him in disbelief as he then addresses the rest of the class. Please don't tell me that he's going to pair me with Malfoy.

"You're to work with your desk-mate for the next few months," Snape instructs us, "That is all. Get to work."

Oh. That's new. Snape must not want me to hurt her with my truthfully less than impressive silent-casting skills. I look at the girl next to me, and she looks back. Damn it, her eyes are fucking gorgeous. Mine are still better though.

Bitch.

-oxo-

Hey Daphne, I was wondering if I could ask you something in private?

No, that's too… ordinary.

Hey Greengrass, I've something to ask you. Mind if we talk in private?

Not exactly friendly, calling her by her last name.

Yo, bitch, let's talk. What'd you say? Don't even go there sister. Does the Chosen One have to smack a hoe?

That's… why am I even doing this? I'm Harry fucking Potter. I've duelled with Voldemort and come out on top. I've slayed a dragon! I've-

Well… technically, I didn't really duel Voldemort. More like threw a spell at him and ran away. And I didn't really slay a dragon. I summoned a broom and flew away. Wow… I'm actually a coward if you put things into perspective.

But still. This is- oh crap.

I flick my wand up as fast as I can, casting a rudimentary spell deflection which causes Daphne's silently-cast belching hex to splash against the ceiling harmlessly. She looks at me with slight surprise.

Shit.

I look around to make sure that nobody saw me do that. It doesn't seem like anybody saw me do that.

Spell deflection, as the name suggests, allows you to deflect the spell to wherever you want it. Say, for example, a Death sends a curse my way. With spell deflection, I can 'catch' that curse and send it wherever I want. I can send it right back at him, or perhaps behind me where another Death Eater might be about to curse me. And it barely takes any energy at all, not to mention is invisible and has to be silently cast. Plus there are only a few downsides to it.

The first downside is that catching a spell is quite hard. Unlike shields, a spell deflection take up a really small circumference, meaning that if you mess up, more likely than not you're going to be hit by whatever spell was thrown at you. The second downside is the timing. You can keep up a shield for pretty long, even long before a curse is anywhere near you, but spell deflection only lasts for a few moments. While you don't have to wait for the spell to be right at your wand (thankfully, it can be done from a limited distance), getting the timing right is quite difficult.

And the third downside is that it's fucking hard to learn. Currently, only five people out of everyone I personally know are capable of it; Voldemort, Dumbledore, myself, Snape, and curiously enough, Professor Flitwick. That's a small list, though apparently, Dumbledore says that there are definitely more people out there that can do it.

How did I learn it? Well, I don't really like to think about those times. Let's just say that I'll think twice before agreeing to anything Dumbledore thinks I might be interested in learning.

And back on track, I just performed spell deflection in a classroom where anyone could have seen it. It doesn't seem to me that everyone caught sight of my deflecting Daphne's spell (else there would've been at least some commotion), but Daphne Greengrass definitely saw me do it.

Can I get her to keep her mouth shut about it, do I have to go to Dumbledore to have her Obliviated, is she going to blackmail me about it, and can I somehow use it to get a date out of her?

Well, she apparently ignored it, because after our brief pause, she's casting hexes at me again. I can't let her go without talking to her though. Damn it, this is making me nervous! When is this damn class going to end!

"Put away your wands," Snape's voice rings, "Class dismissed."

Hey, Old Snapey came through!

As the class wanders back to their desks to collect their things and leave, I keep an eye on Daphne. She cannot be allowed to leave my sight before I get a chance to talk to her. Quickly, I go over to Ron and Hermione to run some quick pre-damage control; they can't be part of that conversation.

"I'll catch up with you guys later," I tell them hurriedly, "I have to take care of something."

At their questioning looks, I shake my head quickly to let them know it's not okay to ask questions.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione asks.

"If you don't leave now, I'll never tell you," I tell her sweetly, emphasizing the 'never'. And there's that Hermione intellect! Good girl. I watch as she grabs Ron before he starts something stupid and quickly drags him away.

I see Greengrass slip out the door. Damn it, I have to be quick.

Grabbing my bag, I hurry after her. Thankfully, she's walking at a sedate pace so I easily catch up to her in the hallway outside the classroom. Slowing down, I match her pace as I join her at her side. She gives me glance.

Okay, this is it. Nerves of steel, Harry. You can do it. Nerves. Of. Steel! Yes! You're Harry Potter: smooth talker!

"Hey, Grassgreen," shit "Can I palk to you trivately for a moment?"

Okay, confession time. I'm not exactly the most suave person when it comes to talking to girls I don't know, especially ones that I'm interested in. If you don't believe me, one look at Greengrass's face would confirm it. She's looking at me like I just declared that I was going to bet my entire fortune on the Chudley Cannons because I think they have a fighting chance.

"Pardon me?" she asks. And now, I've heard her voice for the first time. How would I describe it? She sounds like a girl. Not too obnoxious, not too friendly, not too rough, not too high-pitched and annoying, and not too low like she's had a dose of testosterone sometime in her life. It's a girl's voice.

Girding my loins so to speak, I talk to her properly this time.

"Privately," I say, "Can I talk to you privately for a moment?"

She looks around before replying. What's with her and glancing around at everything?

"Sure."

Cool. Awesome, even. But where do I take her? I'm not going to talk to her in a hallway, and I have no idea where an empty classroom is. The Room of Requirement? No, I'm not taking just anyone there. I like the way she looks, sure, but I'm not about to put out like that before our first date. Empty classroom it is.

I lead her through the school, trying to find an empty classroom. Once I locate an appropriate room, I open the door and wait for her to go in first. She doesn't, instead waiting for me to go inside first. How irksome.

Once we're both inside the room, I close the door and lock it with an advanced locking charm that I know most seventh year students would be able to undo. I may be a damned good fighter, but I'm not some super-wizard that knows spells nobody else even recognizes. I only have a limited few of those in my arsenal, and that's only because Dumbledore insisted on teaching me those.

But I'm still pretty advanced for a sixth year, thanks to Moody's tutelage. And here's something he taught me. Raising my wand once more, I flick it around the room in a square pattern.

"Muffliato," I say softly. Now, if anyone were eavesdropping, all they'd hear is a buzzing noise. Yes, Moody taught this to me. It's called paranoia. I can't take the chance that there's someone outside listening in, nor that there's someone invisible inside the room. At the moment, the only person that can hear me is Daphne and vice versa.

"Okay," I start, "There's a few things that I need to discuss with you."

Daphne looks at me knowingly. Oh, I wonder if she knows something. That was sarcasm, by the way.

"You cast a spell deflection in class," she states. Yes, 'states', as in not a question. I don't reply immediately, waiting to see if she's got more to say. No, it seems like she's done.

"I did," I confirm. Now, I could have lied and said she was seeing things. But then she'd know that she saw me do it and that I wasn't acknowledging that I was capable of it. And then she could tell people, and the rumours would swell. After that, even if I maintained that I'm not capable of it, people would still suspect it of me.

No, it's better to get her to keep her mouth shut.

"That's… it's… incredible that a sixteen-year-old can do it," Daphne says, sounding disbelieving. Awesome. I've impressed her.

"Do you know what I wanted to talk to you about, then?" I ask her. She seems like she's smart, so hopefully she understands.

"You want me to keep quiet about it. You don't want your enemies to know," she, again, states. Well, she certainly is a… stately… girl. Yes, that was a pun. Yes, I realize that it didn't make sense. Give me a break.

"That's right," I reply. Now, let's see what she says. I wonder what she'll ask in return, sneaky, conniving Slytherin that she must be.

"Alright," she says.

I could've ran to the nearest closed window and throw myself out of it screaming, shattering the glass. I could've apparated to the nearest active volcano and thrown myself into it, screaming. I could've hijacked an airplane, demand that I get paid a random amount of money in exchange for my hostages, and eventually throw myself off, screaming.

Yeah, I'm relieved. Now, what's the catch?

I stand there, waiting for her to make her demands, but no such things come.

"Is that all?" she asks. Okay, I'm confused. Surely she wants something in return. So, I voice my confusion in the best way I can.

"Huh?"

How eloquent, Harry. Perhaps next time I can paw the ground and bark like a dog?

"Is there something else you wanted?" she asks, eyeing me suspiciously, "Because if you're trying to get an Unbreakable Vow out of me, you'll be trying for a long time."

Unbreakable… wow, I didn't even think of that. But she does have a point. I need more than her word that she won't say anything.

"How about a date?" I blurt out.

Okay, that came out wrong. I didn't mean to do that, honestly.

"What?" she says, boggled. Okay, here's my chance to correct that. Remember, Harry. You need to get some sort of magical vow from her to keep her mouth shut.

"A date?" I repeat, "D'you wanna go out sometime?"

What is it with me today? Oh great, now she's looking at me like I'm Ron and she's Fleur. I guess it's only funny when you're a spectator.

"Sorry," she says sweetly, "You're a little bit..."

Is that a rejection coming my way? Well, I guess I shouldn't blame her considering this is the first time we've ever really talked.

"Hmm… actually, let's try it. Maybe we can have a trial-date to get to know each other a little better?" she suggests. I look at her in surprise. Wait a minute, I know that look on her face. She's pitying me!

Okay, screw her. I will not be pitied.

"Sure," I say, betraying my pride as a man, "Next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Alright," she replies, "I'll see you then. Now, I've got to get to my next class. Bye, Harry."

She leaves without another word. I stand there like an idiot, a stupid grin on my face. I have to resist the urge to laugh in delight.

Yes, I'm pathetic. So damn pathetic.

-oxo-

I'm looking forward to today with some trepidation; it isn't often that I'm flustered, but something like this can be quite flustering. Still, I force myself to shove aside the latent fear and plow forward. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression.

I'm walking to the appropriate Hogwarts entrance, but much to my dismay, I meet Draco Malfoy on the way there. He's been my schoolyard rival from when I've met him, but since Voldemort's return, our games are starting to get a bit too dangerous. I'm sure he's up to something this year, something involving the Death Eaters, and whatever it is, it's driving him haggard.

"Potter," he says, addressing me. I'm tempted to ignore him and continue on, but something about his attitude convinces me to stay. He doesn't seem as malicious as he usually is. And he's alone, so I'm confident I can take him if it comes to it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" I reply, taking in his appearance. He looks terrible; I feel so giddy.

"I hear you're going on a date with Greengrass," he says. I raise an eyebrow, and I can't help but wonder how he found out.

"And? What of it?" I say. Malfoy and I may be enemies, but I don't go out of my way to antagonize the entire Slytherin house, and vice versa. He might think she's crazy for agreeing to a date with me, but I don't think he'd target her for it.

It starts off slowly. His shoulders shake first, and he hunches over slightly as the rest of his body follows suit. Then he lets out a chuckle, then another.

Okay, I'm confused.

The chuckles turn into laughter, which slowly increase in volume and length.

"…aha, ahaha, ahaHAHAHA!" Malfoy doubles over in laughter, clutching onto my shoulders to keep from falling to the ground.

"Ahaha, oh man!" Malfoy exclaims, righting himself after having a good laugh, "Wow, thanks Potter. I needed that."

Patting my shoulder, he just walks off, leaving me standing there in the hallway feeling stupefied at what had just occurred. I whirl around, staring at his retreating back.

"What the hell was that, Malfoy?" I call after him, but he ignores me and keeps on walking.

"Malfoy!" I yell after him, but he just raises a hand in dismissal and walks off, turning the corner to where I can no longer see him.

Yeah, that was pretty disturbing; to this day, Malfoy and I have never had a meeting where one of us has gone on without exchanging insults. It can only be something about Daphne. He must know something I don't, which is extremely likely, because I know little to nothing about her.

It's kind of worrying. What am I getting myself into?

I have little trouble finding her amongst the other students; she's standing separately from the rest of them, probably to make herself easy to spot. How thoughtful of her, though she doesn't appear to see me yet. Time to make my entrance.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I walk over to her, trying to exude an air of confidence. Smiling lightly as I head toward her, I see Daphne finally taking notice of my presence. She smiles back at me, and I feel something swelling in my chest.

As I near her, I raise my hand in greeting.

"Hey there, Daph-"

"Watch out!"

I feel something collide with the back of my head, sending me tumbling forward face first. Almost as if in slow motion, I can see Daphne's eyes widen as my face approaches hers. I can't seem to stop my forward momentum, and Daphne is completely unprepared as my face is on a collision course with hers.

Now, I'm sure you're thinking the obvious. Typically, such an event might lead to an accidental kiss, what with my face meeting hers. And despite how cliché it might be, I would welcome that outcome. Unfortunately, the laws of physics have something else in mind.

Our faces meet in a terrible impact, our foreheads colliding and our noses painfully crushing each other as she falls back when my weight rams her like a sack of bricks.

That fucking hurt! I sit up, allowing the vertigo to subside as I do so, gingerly feeling my aching nose. Hearing a groan, I remember that Daphne is underneath me. I hastily remove myself from atop her, offering her my hand to assist her to her feet. She takes it, thankfully. Maybe she won't storm off in anger.

"Are you okay?" I ask, being a gentleman first. Killing the person responsible comes after.

"What happened?" she says, mirroring my earlier actions as she touches her nose. As Daphne then inspects her clothes to make sure they didn't get dirty, I look back to find the offender. A younger Slytherin approaches me with a scared look on her face. Behind her, her friends look on in dread, scared that they might've pissed me off. Nearby, I see a freaking football of all things.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Potter sir, I didn't mean to hit you!" she says, jittery at having hit the 'Chosen One'. Daphne lays her hand on my forearm as if to calm me. Instead, it causes me to involuntarily stiffen ever so slightly. Only slightly, because I've learnt to tone down the awkward feeling I get whenever a girl touches me, thanks mostly to Hermione's presence.

"Don't worry about it," she tells the girl, picking up the football and handing it to her, "Just be more careful next time you play your game, okay?"

I can almost feel something sinister in the air when Daphne doesn't let go of the ball. She puts her other hand on the girl's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Daphne leans in, whispering something into the girl's ear. I feel a horrible shiver go down my back, as if it's a premonition of bad things to come.

Nah, it's probably just my imagination.

The younger Slytherin girl nods fervently before scampering away back to her friends, running off like a demon was after her. It would almost be cute if I wasn't so pissed off at how pathetic she made me look.

"Don't worry about it," Daphne tells me, "They're good kids, and it's not like they did any permanent damage."

Which is true, because her clothes still look as immaculate as they did before.

"Oh, I'm totally fine," I lie, "Completely understandable."

"Still, what a way to start a date, Potter," she teases, "You might've broken my nose."

"Ahaha, y-yeah, so sorry," I stammer, my nerves apparently flat-lining, but Daphne cuts me off.

"I'm just teasing you, Harry," Daphne says, laughing, "Just relax, this isn't even a real date."

I don't know whether she's trying to be nice to me or mean to me, but her words cut me deep. What a bitch. I'm almost starting to regret this, almost.

Wow, just listen to me. Maybe if she starts making out with another dude today, I can hold her hand and tell her how hurt I feel at her actions. Come on, Potter, man up.

"How about we get a move on?" I suggest, trying to will away any apprehension I feel.

"Where shall we go?" Daphne asks, and immediately I think of the Three Broomsticks.

"How about-"

"Oh, I know!" She cuts me off, "Let's go to Madam Puddifoots!"

No. No way in hell. Man the fuck up, Potter.

"Sure," I find myself agreeing. I'm once more reminded of my uselessness as a man when Daphne laughs again.

"Man up, Potter," she says, hooking her arm around mine and dragging me towards Hogsmeade, "You're going to have to stop being so spineless if you want to impress me enough for a real date."

I can't help but look at her in surprise as she drags me behind her. I had no idea she was so… headstrong. Then again, I don't really know her, so what should I have expected? But her words seem to have the desired effect, as I feel my nerves settle down.

"Then the Three Broomsticks it is," I find myself telling her, matching her pace and pulling up beside her. Daphne smiles at me, and it's much more sincere this time.

We make a few stops on our way to the Three Broomsticks; Daphne says she needs to pick up some quills before she completely runs out. Along the way, we talk lightly about mundane things. By the time we finally get to the Three Broomsticks, the two of us feel pretty comfortable with each other, or so I think. We don't know each other's' life stories, but we don't really need to. It's nice to know someone at face value for once, without having to worry about what crazy may lurk underneath.

"Two Butterbeers, please," I order at the counter, exchanging my money for the drink with Madam Rosmerta. I slide one of the bottles over to Daphne, who raises an eyebrow.

"Just like a man to pay for my drink," Daphne says. I feel slightly courageous as I make my reply.

"Well, you can pay me back later," I tell her, causing her to smile.

Okay, it's coming. Introductions are out of the way, and now, we no longer have things like shopping to come between us and the realization that we're on a date. These past few days, I've been thinking about how to make this date successful. The very first step is: don't allow awkward silences. Let's do this thing.

"So," I say, "You've probably dated a lot."

Harry Potter, you are a fucking moron. If there was an embodiment of 'The Man', he would be ashamed right now.

Daphne merely blinks at me. An awkward silence falls between us as she looks away. Great. Just great.

But to my surprise, I am not left to salvage the remains of this date when she finally speaks up.

"I've been on a few," she tells me, sounding almost defensive, "But I haven't actually gone steady with anyone."

Alright, she's given me an out. Now, I just need to steer this conversation away from past dating experiences and towards something that'll impress her.

"I've only been on one," I blurt out, "It was with Cho Chang."

I'm… just…

"I accidentally made her cry," I continued, "We don't talk now."

Making people cry must be a specialty of mine, because I really want to cry right now. Daphne laughs.

"Haha, oh yeah, how could I forget about that?" Daphne says, "No wonder you hate Madam Puddifoots."

"Wha- you know?" I ask, incredulous.

"Harry, I think everybody knows," Daphne says, "And besides, I had front row seats for that. It was one of the highlights of the year."

"Just great." I mutter, putting my hand to my face in embarrassment.

"Ah, don't worry about it," Daphne tells me, "Being someone with first-hand information, I can tell you that it wasn't really your fault. Chang was pretty loopy that year, and I'm saying that while knowing Lovegood is in Ravenclaw."

I want to defend Luna. I really do, and trust me when I say that I feel bad that I'm not going to do it. But in my defense, Luna is fucking nutso.

"Well, that was a really crappy year overall," I say, thinking of Umbridge.

"I know!" Daphne blurts out, "Umbridge was the worst teacher I've ever come across."

"Worse for me," I contend, "I heard she got pretty… toady… with the Slytherins."

"That was terrible, Potter," Daphne says, laughing despite herself. Holy freaking shit, this is going pretty well! Awkward silence gone, conversation is fun, and I made her laugh without it being at the expense of myself!

"Um… excuse me," someone says from behind me. Well, shit. I turn around, spotting an oddly familiar little girl holding up a quill and a parchment. She can't be more than eight or nine years old.

"You're Harry Potter, right?" she asks, looking at me with those dark, childlike eyes of hers, "Can I have your autograph?"

Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see Daphne looking at her adoringly; that's a reaction I can make use of. Time to score some brownie points.

"Sure thing," I say, taking the quill from her. This is when the shit hits the fan.

I feel a jerk around my navel, and am momentarily lifted off my seat before crashing loudly to the ground. Beside me, Daphne stands in surprise.

"Shit!" the little girl swears, drawing a wand from her robes, "Fucking AP wards!"

Stupid, stupid, stupid Potter! Don't forget who's after you! Oh, and on a side note: little girl swearing? Pretty cute.

I dive behind the counter, both hiding from the upcoming spell-fire of the possibly disguised Death Eater and allowing time to draw my wand.

So. What just happened? The little girl, somehow an enemy of mine, tried to use the portkeyed quill in her hands to send me off to somewhere I assume there would be more enemies of mine. Unknown to her, to me, and actually to everyone, there were anti-portkey wards around the Three Broomsticks. Probably courtesy of Dumbledore, that crafty wizard.

"Come out, Potter!"

I sneak along the counter, hoping to catch the assumed Death Eater off-guard by jumping out from a location she (or he) doesn't expect. I notice that the bar has suddenly gone silent; it's surprising nobody has reacted.

"Come out or your girlfriend gets it!"

This gives me pause. I slowly rise, peering over the counter to find the little girl digging her wand into Daphne's bosom. And as much I'd hate to repeat myself, little girl taking a hostage? Pretty darn cute.

"I see you, Potter," the girl says, "Come out slowly."

I slip my wand back into my pocket and grab the dud on the other side before fully standing, fake wand in hand.

"Harry!" Daphne calls out to me, looking frightened.

"Don't worry," I reassure her, "You're going to be fine."

"Don't try anything, Potter," the girl says, digging her wand into Daphne a little harder, "Come back over to this side."

Slowly so as to not startle the girl into firing spells, I clamber back over the counter. All around, the other patrons in the bar are frozen in shock, not daring to do anything.

"Now toss me your wand!" the girls says, "And no funny business!"

I toss the dud over to her, watching as she raises a hand to catch it. And something amazing happens.

The girl misses the catch, causing the fake wand to smack her on the forehead, bouncing off and loudly clattering on the floor among the silence.

"Ow!" she exclaims, slapping her hand to her forehead to cover the injury. I really should have taken that opportunity to do something, but honestly, it was just too incredible a sight to behold.

She glares at me as if it was my fault. It's not like I meant for that to happen.

"Accio," the girl casts, summoning the dud to her hand. As she catches the wand this time, it reacts to the magic, turning into a rubber chicken. Seeing the girl looking startled at the rubber chicken in her hand, I correctly use this opportunity to draw my real wand, swiftly sending a banishing charm at her.

The girl evades it quickly, letting my banishing charm hit Daphne instead. Oops.

As Daphne is flung out of the bar, the girl snarls at me, sending a stunner my way. I'm already out of the way and almost near the girl in two long strides. Whoever this Death Eater is, they made a mistake choosing a little girl to be their disguise.

She prepares another spell, but I grab her hand and point it upwards, letting her spell splash harmlessly against the ceiling. With a great feat of manliness, I lift the girl off the ground with just her one arm.

"Fuck! You shithead!" the girl swears at me, uselessly beating me with her free hand, though her kicks to my shin are starting to hurt. I free her of her wand, binding her with it and pocketing it. Around me, everybody looks on in awe.

Thanks for the help, guys. I appreciate it.

"Potter!"

Daphne re-enters the bar looking furious, her wand raised to help me in battle. Her clothes are a little dirty and her hair is a bit unkempt, but she looks none the worse for the wear.

"Don't worry, Daphne," I tell her, "I stopped-"

Daphne hits me with a mild, blunt-force hex. I drop the girl as I double over from the brief pain. What the shit?

"That's for hitting me with a Banishing Charm," she tells me, glaring. Oh, she's furious at me.

"It was an accident!" I reply, rising to my full height. Date or not, I don't appreciate being hexed.

"You should have known better!" Daphne raises her voice at me, "I was right there! You got my clothes dirty, you unbelievable idiot!"

This bitch is fucking crazy. I just freaking saved her life!

"I was more worried about saving your life!" I say, my own anger sparking, "Sorry your clothes didn't make the cut, you crazy-arse…"

Daphne steps in front of me, poking my chest in anger.

"Crazy-arse what?" she asks dangerously, "Listen here buddy, I spent enough time getting ready for you, even though this isn't even a real date, and you throw me out of the damn bar!"

You did not just go there. Fuck a date, I'm not going to take shit from such an ungrateful bitch.

On the floor nearby, our little attacker wiggles around uselessly on the floor; the ropes I cast around her are successfully constricting any significant movements. Both of us ignore her in favour of glaring at each other.

"You've got to be joking," I say, "That little girl's probably a Death Eater in disguise, and here you are, pissed off about your clothes getting dirty. Tell me, princess, are you taking the mickey?"

I suddenly see Daphne's arm blurring towards my face, causing me to reflexively take a step back. And right as her hand squarely connects to my face in a gigantic slap, my foot touches the would-be portkey-quill that the little girl had given me.

To my great horror, I feel a lurching motion around my midsection, but instead of sending us crashing to the floor like before, the portkey works successfully, somehow bypassing the wards.

You know, seeing as how something happens to me every school year, it was pretty much inevitable that this was going to happen. Only this time, I've got an apparently completely fucking insane woman to accompany me.

As I eye Daphne while being whisked away to our possible doom, I can't help but think the following despite everything.

At least she's hot.

-oxo-

AN: Well, that was fast. Anyway, I've had this written for over a year now. And I do have a little bit of chapter 2 written as well. I suppose it's time for me to really start writing now. WNN will likely be the next update though. Still, I hope you enjoyed it! Welp, time for me to get some sleep. 3AM seems a good time as any right?

Oh, and do leave a review or two. They make me write faster.

Cheers!

knuckz