A Chance Encounter: IV

— — — — —

"In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."

Abraham Lincoln

A/N Read and review, it really is such a small thing, I know I'm not exactly a very good writer but I try, and even if the review is a howler, they will all be treasured.

To Sir Gewen E. Luck, that plot idea you mentioned, of Daphne becoming a potential death eater, might be a little too sidetracked, even for my taste.

— — — — — — —

Astoria drummed her fingers against the top of her charms notepad, reviewing her notes for the fourth time already, but in actuality her thoughts were a million miles away.

Her eyes darting to the clock briefly every few minutes, charms was a bore. No doubt about it. She hadn't spoken a word since coming in, and she planned to keep it that way. Being alone, it was just much more satisfying for her.

She hadn't spoken much since her time at Hogwarts, but to little fault of her own, her classmates hadn't exactly been enjoying her company, and really she couldn't blame them.

She could be.. intimidating at times, and as her family being in the sacred 28, let's just say she didn't have a whole bunch of friends outside of her social circle. Worse still, she had yet found the nerve to approach Daphne at lunch times.

Where was this Gryffindor courage when it was needed? What would she say? Astoria knew she hated Gryfindors with a passion, so what would she say about her being one?

She was the snake in the lion's den, and she was afraid she was going to be eaten.

Someone had tapped her gently, bringing her thoughts a little closer to home, but just before she gave the victim her patented deathly glare, she had noticed it was the professor.

"Ms Greengrass, please refrain from daydreaming in our class, charms is a dangerous subject" Flitwick interjected, before resuming in his lecturing state.

She snorted. Dangerous subject? What was she going to do? Tickle someone to death?

"... The levitation spell, or otherwise known as Wingardium Leviosa, is most commonly used for the levitation of small objects…" he began.

Astoria had zoned out again, and she was desperately trying to keep herself awake, but even that seemed to be too much trouble. The pulling of her eyelids seemed to be too much of an effort to contend with.

As destiny would have it, and after a rather large explosion, which left a boy - gryffindor by his red emblem, singed in the parting smokes, she was most certainly awake.

In a slight jest, flitwick tried to remedy the situation, "Please no laughing, this is quite a common result for charms work, and might I say some of you in the later future might be the victim of."

But the class gave him no heed, and in turn continued to embarrass the boy, who, if he could shrivel up any further, might be shrivelling up into a cocoon.

Of course, this didn't bode well with the younger heir of Greengrass, she smiled, yes, but to laugh at him? They had been learning magic for like a total of ten minutes? She knew what it felt to be ostracised by her peers, but she was stuped. She wanted to help the boy, she did, and if she was being honest, a bit of revenge after they had so kindly left her out in the common room.

But coming out and shouting over her classmates of injustice wouldn't exactly help. She came from a house of Slytherins, the house of the cunning, she could do better than this.

And over the next few minutes, she began forming a plan, she scribbled some notes to the boy, and charmed the paper, which promptly folded itself into a paper aeroplane before departing over her classmates' oblivious shoulders.

It landed into the lap of the boy, who promptly then, with an inquisitive eye, read the layed out instructions and smiled.

This was going to be fun.

After a few minutes, and several explosions later, of which some feathers, they just seemed to explode one by one. It was music to her ears. It was a tragedy really, an accident. Some of which had created quite a mess, and quite a few egos put in their places, flitwick called for her after class had finished, sobering her up immediately.

He spoke with an air about him, one that held a child-like and appeasing tone, and yet still implied the authority between the two.

"Very impressive charm work, Mrs Greengrass, although please refrain from any more... situations with your classmates."

His words were serious, although his face clearly didn't show it. In fact, if she had to guess, and her guesses were usually correct, he didn't seem to mind. Playfulness. She liked that about people. She smiled, and gave him a mock salute before leaving the classroom.

Just outside the door, and to her dismay, were 3 of the Gryffindor boys, and from what she could tell, they didn't look happy. By her best guess, they were a bit older than her, 3rd or 4th years maybe.

She spoke first in the edgeways. "Hello boys, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

The largest one of the lot, and the one she thought was the leader of this rut spork first, and she certainly didn'tthink it was to compliment her fabulous looks.

Well her sister may be the ice queen, but she was definitely not one to be toyed with.

"We just wanted to remind you that we don't lightly take, traitors" he lingered on the word, "In our house."

Who the hell did he think he was?

"Pompous brat" she muttered under her breath. Unfortunately for her, not quite enough.

The boy sidestepped to staring at her in the face. She could feel his hot breaths baring down on her face, the intensity of the glares he was sending her, had no effect, and her face was rather emotionless.

She was frightened, easily, she'd be a fool not to be, but if she wasn't going to stand up to them now, when would she?

"Want to say that to my face, little girl?"

It all happened so quickly, that she could barely react, least of all stop it. The boy tried to pull on her hair, he was quick for sure, but before he could she could do anything to curb his advances, she heard a voice vaguely familiar.

"Stupefy"

The other boy collapsed, a smirk still registered on his face, as he tumbled from grace, rather

inelegantly, she thought.

Her saviour, stepped from the shadows.

Harry Potter. Harry bloody Potter. She had butterfly's in her stomach. Was she nervous?

Of course she was. Hell, she had read entire books on him, wizarding saviour and all that.

"You lot, if you know what's good for you, run." He said softly, with a little bit too much venom in them than she had expected, although it seemed to do the trick.

'That was menacing' she thought, and put a mental note never to get on his bad side.

She watched the boys face contort in confusion, unsure of what to, but they got the message. And run they did, far past the corridors and into the warm embraces of their mothers, metaphorically speaking.

Harry chuckled. "I'm not that scary am I?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. If I got my hands on those buggers, I'd rip them to pieces."

With such pure conviction in her voice, Harry had no trouble believing her. Despite Harry being about a foot taller, and despite her looking much more innocent despite imagining tearing them to pieces. In fact, he was starting to take a few steps back, and wondered if it was those boys who were the ones who really needed saving.

"But anyway," her sweet, innocent voice had returned, "I really must thank you for this, I appreciate it, I really do".

"Ah, it was nothing, really, I was just walking by. Anyone would have done the same."

"Humble arse," she said under her breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Oh, nothing" she gave him an innocent, but fake smile.

"I saw you at the feast earlier. Sorry but you're Daphne's sister aren't you?" he asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Just in blood, trust me, we're not alike. She scares me. Honestly, I'd be wary of that one."

"Sor-" he started.

"Stop saying sorry!" She near shouted, rolling her eyes.

He jumped slightly, "Oh right, sor-."

She rolled her eyes. Sometimes, boys were a bit stupid. What was she thinking? Damn near all the time, but for the moments that aren't.. that's why she kept them around.

"I'm sure Daphne can't be that bad," he asked, although even he could feel the question tone in his voice.

"On first names terms are we?" she quizzed playfully.

"Well… no, but I mean - " fumbling over his speech.

"I'm just messing with you. Let's start over. Astoria Greengrass, witch extraordinaire and second heir to the Greengrass family - at your service." She gave a small mock curtsy.

Harry chuckled. "I'm Harry Potter, but my friends call me Harry."

She smiled. "Hello Pot-, Harry" she corrected with a smile, "thank you for this, they just didn't seem to get the message. I guess I'll be seeing you more often." With that she turned and left, but before she left, she heard him call,

"Oh, Astoria, what were those boys after?"

She felt her stomach drop, and felt a small pang in her heart. He didn't know. She didn't want to lose her first friend this early, but she guessed he was going to find out one way or another.

"... Well," she stuttered, oh stop stuttering for gods sake, "My family, they've been Slytherins for generations, I guess I'm just the black sheep." She said, with a softer voice to her earlier act.

He smiled a knowing smile.

"Those idiots, what are they playing at? Blood shouldn't matter, family neither, trust me I'd know. always remember that, it's in the heart."

Damn Gryffindor and their heartfelt speeches. Would she turn out like that? By gods she would never hear the end of it from her family.

Yet despite her, she smiled, and her ears perked at that, maybe she wouldn't be losing a friend early.

And with that impromptu speech, Harry left, leaving them both with smiles on her face.

oOo

Daphne never liked to be special. Nor being singled out. In fact, she was always the one destined to be the ones behind the scenes. The ones who operated behind the curtains, and letting the spotlight target someone else. It was always said that the men in their suits were the ones in power, but she knew better. She knew, it was always the wives behind the scenes, who seemed to be making no impact, were the ones making the most.

She liked it that way, isolation was always seen to her as a safe haven, where there was no social convention or rules or things to follow.

When she was alone, she was free. As simple as that. No complexity, but just a simple life.

Being dependent on anyone was a weakness, something only that was further emphasised as a Slytherin, and as she grew to knew over the years that people can only let you down, and when they do, you should not be taken for surprise.

She knew before school, that she'd keep her head down, obey the rules and make no trouble. Her father, despite taking no roles in her life whatsoever, had expected this much of her, and she knew the expectations, and she deemed to rise above them.

But when she had lost control of herself in that mangy old room, something had awoken inside of her. That rush. Being the one in power. The one in control.

She hated it.

She wondered over the brief conversation, and recalled the dreaded words, the words that made her heart sink.

"I see rage in them"

What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?

She had no rage. A temper, sometimes, and mainly when Tracy was on her nerves, and even then she was normally in control. So what rage?

Maybe he just had a flair for the dramatic? she mused, but that wasn't it, the words, they just seemed to resonate with her.

"I see rage in them".

oOo

"Oi, I look nice, yea'?" Tracy asked, appearing from gods know where and sat herself on the couch at leisure.

Had it really been that long? When had she entered the common room? By god she was losing it. At this rate she'd have to check herself into Madam Pomfrey.

"Of course." Daphne said, without looking up from her potions book.

"Oh come on dude, get off that pish posh, we were making real progress last year, come on, look at me, I look nice, yeah?" Tracey asked with a hopeful look.

Daphne looked up this time.

Tracey looked terrible, she was wearing a horrid leather jacket and white shirt, that creased on the corners, with black trousers that seemed a size too small, and it just seemed to be, how to put this gently? off. It looked like a child's impression of a suit, but maybe that was what Tracey was going for. It was a wonder that the girl was in Slytherin.

"It looks lovely." Daphne complimented.

For a man, that was.

"What's the occasion?" Daphne asked, with half a heart in the conversation. Her thoughts elsewhere.

"Blaise, asked me to dinner, cool inni't? Gettin' food from the kitchen and everything."

She wore a dreamy look.

Daphne just cringed. "... You're having dinner, with your ex-boyfriend?" she asked with an incredulous tone.

"Oh come off it, we both know, that'ch you not as innocent as you seem to be. Mark my words I'll prove you right."

Daphne just raised her eyebrows. "I'm not going to apologise for being above that kind of thing. That kind of thing, - it's a waste of time." she replied factually.

"Ah you'll come round. And you'll come running."

Daphne just rolled her eyes. Tracey had seemed hellbent on her love life, and this year hadn't exactly changed that, and yet despite Daphne curbing any sort of conversation on the topic, she just didn't seem give it up. If any other person had even dared to bring up the topic, she'd have sent them wallowing, but it was Tracey, and she gave her childhood friend her allowances.

She watched her friend relax on the couch, reclining, without a care in the world, sipping a beverage, water, but knowing Tracey it was probably something stronger.

They had been raised together, went shopping together, amd basically lived together, and yet were so different, in so many ways. While Tracey enjoyed the presence of others, she grew to resent it. Any sort of social occasion, and despite Daphne's status only attended once or twice a month, at the request of her father. Maybe that was why her only friend in the world was sitting across from her.

After a few moments, Tracey smirked and left, probably in favour of flirting with the other boys in the common room.

Minutes later, when Daphne dared hoped she had finally reached her moments of peace, had noticed Pansy who seemed to be walking towards her, and by the gods she wasn't in the mood. She was no gossip girl.

Daphne glared at her, reminding Pansy of the slippery slope she currently resided of, but to her credit, flinched very little.

"Please, Pansy, if you have come to make me aware of any recent escapades with your little friend Draco, I'm not interested."

Pansy smiled and pouted her lips, she looked absolutely terrible when she did that but no one had the heart to tell her. Or they just didn't care enough. Daphne was one of the latter.

Pansy, seemingly ignored her, oblivious to the death glare Daphne was giving, and if looks could kill, she'd be 5 feet under. Yet she answered straight to the point.

"It happened! Me and Draco I mean, he felt me up in the astronomy tower. Can you believe it?"

Jesus Christ.

After running her head for a list of profanities suitable for the occasion, Daphne looked at Pansy. Her small pigtails cast over the side of her shoulders, the skirt just above the knee, and a shirt with one too many buttons undone.

Slu-

"Oh don't give me that look, I bet you're jealous of me and Draco. You just want we have."

Daphne just gave a knowing smile. She knew the pining looks Draco gave her way, and Pansy just seemed oblivious to her being second choice.

But she didn't see a point of telling this point of information, and kept her head high and didn't say a word. Pansy left without a word, and she was alone.

She had spoken too soon.

"Draco. For the love of the gods, and for the sakes of any future Malfoy Jr's, go away"

She'd be doing the world a favour anyway.

She could see him visibly shudder, and he lost the smile for a second, but another, more flirtatious smile had taken its place. "I just want to talk."

Oh for fuc-

oOo

With the arrival of the two schools who wished to contend with Hogwarts in the Triwizard tournament, soon came the rumours. She had heard about the champions, and whatnot, all that that gossip churning out of the insecure girls bedrooms. She couldn't care about it any less. 'Keep her head down, get good grades, and you'll be ok', she muttered to herself.

After a hard day's work of potions, she had created a calming potion, a thin water like solution with silver vapour. She had even been rewarded with a complimenting nod when Snape had come to inspect, so it must have been damn near perfect.

It had nearly all been for loss, as Goyle, who had as much skill in potion as his friend Crabbe, whom both lowered the IQ of the entire castle, had seemingly mixed up the powered moonshine stones and the fluxweed, creating rather disastrous results, and had collapsed on her desk, sending everything scattered.

Well after the lesson had finished, she had forgotten her potion equipment and had gone back for it, seemingly unaware of the conversation she had stumbled onto.

"... Not feel it gettin' stronger Severus?" Asked a man, Karkaroff.

"I have seen this, my friend, and I fear the dark lord is getting stronger, but you mustn't tell a soul, and most of all, Dumbledore can not know."

Snape seemed.. worried, an emotion she thought wasn't capable of the man. In fact he seemed damn right nervous , the complexity of his skin was lighter in tone, and he looked.. frightened.

Anyone else, and she would have felt sorry for the man.

She couldn't see Snape's acquaintance, but she could tell from the trembles of his voice he was in no better shape than her head of house.

"... Do you think master will forgive me?" he seemed.. hopeful.

"I would definitely think not, after that debacle, I'd say in hindsight Azkaban would have been a much more pleasant alternative. You had betrayed him, and the dark lord does not see kindly to betrayal."

"What could I have done Severus? The ministry would have taken everything, that scum, Lucius, he doesn't exactly seem to be taking his part of the blame."

Snape smiled. "Ah, my friend, Lucius is rich. And with money, comes power. That power, is something you or I can never seek to have."

"Then I must run" said a grave Karkaroff.

Snape's reply didn't lose a beat.

"Please do. You wouldn't last 6 months."

"Then what would you have me do?" desperation was rampant in his voice.

"Lay low for the time being, and if must be, seek asylum in another country. Otherwise I have no further advice for you. I have a place in London, and I see this as a debt repaid, if must be, you may seek asylum there, although I daren't say it will do much."

"So you have lost hope for me this quickly?"

Snape replied quickly and without hesitation.

"Yes."

He continued.

"Now, I must go, Dumbledore seeks my attendance, something to do with that Potter brat."

Daphne froze. If he was leaving, there was no way she could explain her way out of this. She did the only thing she could do, she ran.

oOo

The night was silent, caressing his skin like a cool summer breeze, lightening the soul with its touch. The figure wore a complete dark robe, disguising himself, fading in the shadows, there was no need of course, the castle and its residents had long been subdued by the tempting mistress of the night, but one could never be too careful.

In the dark, he could sense the fire, the magic so vibrant in the air he could, sense it, feel it. He blinked. He was getting carried away, the steps to the goblet were long ones, and with each passing stride the beat of his heart quickened like the beat of the drums, and the final arc, the crescendo was pacing.

He stared into the blue flames, a serenity about it, adorning the hall walls with a silhouette, a fire filled of passion, changing and moving like the flow of a river moving downstream, threatening to take him off balance.

His hands moved to his robe pocket, slowly taking the wand out of his pocket, and with a whisper barely audible in the night, he cast the necessary spells, and cast the piece of paper with a name written into the blue flames, before sinking and dissolving into the fire.

Harry Potter

oOo

The Great hall was silent. Daphne swore she could hear the breathing of the entire hall, the silence so palpable, it felt she could reach out and grab it one hand. All three schools crammed into a hall fit for a third of the size.

The Goblet of Fire flickered from the blue flames, flames that crackled in the open air, and the goblet was adorned with gold etchings, and despite being far enough away to recognise them, she could at least appreciate its beauty.

The hall watched Dumbledore, taking his time with things, as if teasing them all. He put on his reading glasses, held up his paper, and began his speech.

"I am sure you are all aware of why I have asked you in here, for today we announce the champions of each respective school. It is a time of- "

He chuckled.

"... I'm sure you don't want to listen to an old man talk about such things, but please indulge me for a moment. There will come a time, when we must remember such a moment, and I dare hope when that time comes we can remember these moments in a positive light. But those are matters for another time.

Please, have an applause for the champion of Beauxbatons,"

The fire cackled, and spewed a piece of paper, singed by the fires, and with a finesse Dumbledore she hadn't thought possible of the old man, caught the piece of paper. He would have been a wonderful seeker back in the day, Daphne wondered.

"The champion is… Fleur delacour."

A large round of applause, and just a few catcalls, from the other side of the hall, a very fit, and posies french teenager arose from the crowds. Dumbledore courteously kissed her hand, and guided her to the back room.

After Viktor Crum was chosen, the audience was near leaping out of their seats, a match awaiting to a flame. Galvanising into a fire.

"The third and final champion, for the Hogwarts Triwizard tournament… is Cedric Diggory"

The crowd leapt into applause, but the fire still cackled, and yet another piece of paper, dangling in the air made the crowd sit into their seats, quietening any cheers for the hufflepuff boy.

Dumbledore approaches the dangling piece of paper, his face matched with both apprehension and a child like curiosity. He handled the paper closely, and read the words that changed everything.

"There.. is a fourth champion, the goblet has chosen. The fourth champion… is Harry Potter."

oOo

Harry knew that his name in the goblet would never have gone down well with his peers, he had tried arguing out of it, but it was a magically-binding-contract, whatever that meant. In layman terms, there was no way out. These cultivation of events had led to the very fateful day in the hall.

"Hermione please, you must know I didn't put my name in the goblet." he pleaded with her for what seemed like ages, her look hurt him more than any word could.

It was a look of disgust.

He was making a scene. He knew that. All the houses knew that, as they listened to their long tirades and back and forth for the past fifteen minutes in the great hall.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't say I agree with you. You've been awfully distant lately, and it always seems convenient that the world revolves around you. It was written in your handwriting and -"

"That could be fake! - "

"And for what reason Harry? I don't see why anyone would fake that. I'm sorry Harry, but logically, it's conclusive." she said in a factual, but cold voice.

"So stuck on the principles of logic, that you would choose it over friendship?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I don't expect what else you think I'd do." She huffed and left.

His heart dropped, the sudden pain in his rib cage was unbearable. His eyes watered, not here, he mentioned to himself. Not here. Everyone was looking at him, he couldn't cry here, he had to get out of here. He trusted his friends, he would go as far as to say he would die for them if need be, he just couldn't.

Ron, who was stuck in thinking of whether to follow her, or stay, and the confusion was displayed all over his face.

"Bloody hell Harry, you could've told me how to get past that age line, blimey, I could'a won that. We could 'ave done that together. Friends aren't supposed to do that to each other..."

Ron continued his speech, but Harry wasn't listening. He couldn't. His voice was dripping with sincerity, and yet it seemed like a massive slap in the face.

Just like that, in an apparent stroke of bad luck, the two friends that meant most to him, were lost, cindered in the ashes of the fire.

He had the worst luck in the world.

It was all just so stupid.

oOo

Harry wanted to go to Hagrid's, to find any sort of comforting voice, but he would collapse and couldn't bear it if Hagrid didn't believe him, and decided to not tempt fate any longer.

That was why, on a perfectly good day, he was sitting by the old maple tree that adorned the court yard, outside of the clutches and rumours of Hogwarts.

Here, alone, he was free. Away from it al.

He couldn't stand it, the side looks, the subtle pushes of his former house and friends. Hadn't the fates punished him enough?

Was all of this really worth saving?

Of course it was, he scolded himself. Of course it was.

But he was so very tired.

He had lost his family, any remnants of it, and now his most treasured item, beyond any materialism could offer him, his friends, were lost, like sand slipping through his fingers.

At least he had butterbeer. Maybe he could drink himself into sweet oblivion.

Thanks Dobby, he muttered.

"Oh I think you may have misheard, my name is Daphne."

He chuckled slightly, but straightened himself.

"Have you come to accuse me? because if you are, I'd appreciate it if you left. I've had enough of that already."

She was aristocratically poised, and took his answer as a motion to sit beside him under the maple tree.

She motioned for a butterbeer.

"May I?"

She wanted butterbeer? Unbelievable. He'd never understand women. Or people for that matter.

"Yeah, sure whatever" he replied nonchalantly.

"So do you think you'll win it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And here I was thinking you'd ask me how I did it."

"Oh I'm pretty sure you didn't do it Potter. But it wouldn't matter either way, it's a magically binding contract. Now answer the question."

She took a sip of butterbeer.

"Bloody hell that's good." she said calmly. Moments after she widened her eyes and she slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Please don't tell anyone about this" she asked, the utter desperation in her eyes had him laughing.

He'd heard Ron mutter more profanities than she'd probably ever said under a single breath.

It felt good to laugh. So he kept doing it. And he was still doing it. It wasn't funny anymore, and Daphne was probably looking at him like a madman, but he just didn't care.

Later, when he had recuperated, she didn't seem to judge him, and kept asking the questions on her mind.

He looked at her. Properly looked at her. Maybe it was the lighting under the tree, that did wonders for her complexion, but she was pretty. Beautiful even. And yet, he couldn't recall a single moment he had spoken with her outside of their moment in the library, and he wondered why he would have missed such an opportunity.

To be honest, his social circle was restricted by his friend Ron, and despite their current situation, he was still considered a friend, and he sympathised with him. He had been brought up his entire life in the Weasley circle, and Harry had no doubts in his mind that Slytherins often made fun of them. But they weren't all the same we're they? Well he was about to find out.

"Potter?"

"Um.. yes?"

"You we're ignoring me."

"I'm sorry what?"

Boys.

"I was asking if you think you'd win it."

He thought for a moment, but that moment was all he needed. "Nah probably not. They're all two years older, and much more experience, I'll be hopeless."

She paused, letting him continue.

Harry just smirked. "Is there not going to be any sort of reassurances or anything?"

"I would think not, on your own? You're hopeless I have no doubt about it. But if a… certain someone, let's say, a less brash minded individual, were to help you out a bit, then you'd have a chance I'd say."

Maybe he would find a friend in this after all.

A/N Now before I get a few howler reviews on my version of Hermione, I'd agree that she probably wouldn't act like that in canon, and she's probably my favourite character, but it's not canon, so if you don't like it, the doors that way.

The Triwizard tournaments happens earlier in this fic.

Quick shower thought, do you guys find it amazing that the HP community has created an entire community revolving around a character, Daphne, despite only having a single line in the books. Never is it mentioned of any sort of persona, or "Ice Queen" status, yet a sort of universal agreement on her character had been decided, Anyway that's enough of me and I wouldn't want to bore you of my presence. good day!