OooOoOooO

AN: Sorry for the very late update. I got busy with exams and I had to finish this chapter. So I'm very sorry about the mistakes. But in return, I made this chapter longer if somewhat almost a filler. This chapter is about integrating characterization for certain people in this story. I don't like bashing very much and I want to stick to something as realistic as possible. So if you don't like it, just say so.

But enjoy!

Chapter 4: Storm Brewing

Harry was doing some last minute research for the second task when someone sat on the empty seat across from him.

He realized that he had been spending his time in the library a lot lately. Not only to conduct study for the upcoming task in the Tournament, but this had been the place he had been meeting and talking with Daphne lately. Their duelling study last Wednesday evening had been a success, if a little rocky. They had started with basic spells taught in Defense first to familiarize themselves. Harry had no problem in learning more about them but Daphne seemed to struggle with some. He had tried helping her in expelling them better but she had grown rather frustrated instead and proceeded to hex and curse everything in the empty classroom they had used.

If there was one thing he learned that day, it was to never do anything that could remotely be constituted as an insult to Daphne's pride.

She valued her year standing the most and seeing him better than her at something was obviously grating on her nerves. She was not unlike Hermione in that aspect.

Though to soothe her bruised dignity a bit, he pointed out that she had quite the repertoire of hexes and curses. The girl had calmed down significantly but Harry thought it rather terrifying since one particular nasty hex only missed him by hair's length.

Parting with each other on a subdued note, they had planned to have the next study on Sunday afternoon.

Now, it was Saturday evening–Cedric had, thankfully, helped him with acquiring the clue from the golden egg–and searching for different ways to stay underwater for an hour proved to be more of a challenge than he thought. He had a week before the task and less than that for the Yule Ball. He already had Sirius prepare his robes for the celebration and got the hang of dancing without stepping on someone's toes. The Second Task was just the thing keeping him from focusing entirely on the ball. What was the thing he'd missed the most for them to take? What will he do to be able to breathe underwater?

Those questions plagued his mind when he wasn't thinking of the upcoming ball. And Daphne was still rather tense around him.

So looking across from him, he was surprised to see a brunette girl staring at him in an unnerving manner. Her shiny brown hair cascaded down into loose curls over her shoulder while icy brown eyes stared at him intensely. He forced himself not to tense at the sight of the green and silver crest in her Hogwarts' robes. Though, judging from her appearance, Harry deduced her to be a year or two younger than him. And there was something rather familiar about her…

He squinted at the girl.

And drew back in complete surprise.

"You're Daphne's sister, Astoria, was it?" He blurted out as his eyebrows rose at her in question. He remembered Daphne mentioning her once or twice idly in passing conversations and had seen the younger girl on occasions.

She grimaced.

"Yes, I'm glad that you know who I am. But let me make it clear that I don't like you, Potter." Astoria started out bluntly, her eyes narrowing at him in disdain.

"Alright," He drawled out slowly. "So what do you want?"

If she wanted to be direct, then two could play on that game.

Astoria leaned back on her seat casually.

"Naturally, I will advise you to leave my sister alone. Yet seeing that she allows you to follow her around, I don't have a say now, do I?" Her voice had a condescending note that was hard to ignore and almost similar to the icy malice in Daphne's tone.

"Of course," Harry nodded, wondering where the girl was going with this.

"And you're the reason she's an open target now in our house." The girl sneered at him irately and Harry had the strangest thought that Malfoy might have had a twin as Daphne never warned him.

"I know and what are you trying to insinuate?" He asked coolly.

Inwardly, his stomach lurched in anxiety. Did something happen to her? When he had asked Daphne about it, she had made it clear that she could take care of herself and threaten him bodily harm if he even entertained the thought of getting involved.

But it was difficult to ignore with gits like Malfoy within the house.

So he only received an icy look for the concern and was rebuffed rather nastily for the effort.

"You have to understand, Potter, that most of the members of my house hates your guts for deeper reasons than being just a bloody Gryffindor." Astoria finally came to the point and this time, he did tense as his gaze zeroed on her somewhat severely.

"So your sister told me," He replied coldly, hating the fact of being reminded of the danger that Daphne didn't want him getting involved in and the helplessness that followed.

Astoria flinched at his tone, apparently not expecting it.

"You may not think so, but there are greater powers than Draco Malfoy in the house that could practically harm my sister." She stated with a frown not unlike Daphne's.

"Death Eater children?" Harry tentatively ventured and saw Astoria's sneer come to life once again.

"Thank you for stating the obvious." Astoria stated sarcastically.

"I already talked to your sister about this and she's rather adamant about being perfectly capable of defending herself." He couldn't even bring himself to be amused at Astoria's snort. "I may not know those in greater power than Malfoy but I will come after them with extreme prejudice should anything happen to Daphne."

The girl assessed him rather carefully before scowling.

And Harry was beginning to see rather clearly on how she was Daphne's sister.

"Bloody Gryffindor nobility," She gritted out before glaring at him. "My sister does not need an avenger on her behalf, Potter. If it were up to me, I will advise you to cut ties with her. But since this is Daphne's decision, I can't do anything about it but tell you to be at least a grateful bastard for the risk she's putting herself in."

Now, Harry was beginning to get angry.

When he wasn't thinking of the tournament or the ball, he had always been worrying about Daphne's safety within her own house. Feeling guilty during nights that he couldn't sleep and doubting himself that maybe, he should have just left her alone.

And he didn't need someone scolding him about it.

"I'm grateful enough, believe me," He growled at the girl, incensed. "Don't you dare think that I don't feel guilty about this. I may have only known your sister for a couple of months but I like to believe in her since that is clearly what she asks of me. She's my friend, whether she likes it or not and I'll help her whether she likes it or not. If it means fighting your whole house, then I won't hesitate."

Her eyes seemed to gleam with approval though her scowl didn't disappear.

Then Astoria looked displeased.

"You talk as if you actually like my sister, Potter, be careful with your words. Remember, I don't like you." She huffed before standing up, gave him another sneer before walking away.

When he was sure that she was really gone, Harry sagged listlessly in his seat.

He had expected Astoria to be different than Daphne but not in this magnitude–Astoria seemed to carry herself with grace and confidence, the kind usually seen in purebloods who thought themselves superior to others while Daphne operated with quiet confidence that one showed as self-respect rather than superiority over others. Astoria was outwardly arrogant but Harry had seen the concern in her eyes for her sister. While Daphne's resentment was genuine and you had to know what to look for to really see any change. Both bore malice in their attitudes and were also careful to keep their real thoughts on matters to themselves.

Astoria was blunt. Harry could see that. Daphne would let you discover things for yourself first before getting frustrated and blurting it out altogether. The younger was condescending and had a way of looking down on others–him–without actually turning her nose up in the air like Malfoy and his people. Daphne would boldly stare someone down and burn them with vicious words that would make them feel pretty low about themselves.

Now, maybe, he could somewhat understand why Daphne avoided the subject regarding her sister.

He wasn't entirely expecting that when he officially met Astoria.

Neville saw Harry grimaced as soon as he sat down for dinner beside him.

There was something bothering his friend, he could tell from the lingering frustration in his green eyes. Neville tried to ignore the intense stares of Ron and Hermione, because even if Harry had forgiven them both, the raven haired boy still opted to stick closer to Neville. They were still Harry's friends but the trust had to be earned back when it had been breached. He sat beside them in classes but always made sure that Neville was seated beside him too. He told them of his suspicions in the Triwizard Tournament but never the suspects–Harry only shared them with Neville now. A part of Neville felt that it was unfair since Hermione and Ron had been with Harry for the past three years. But the major part sympathized them, they had easily let Harry down and destroyed his trust so it was only fair of Harry to do what he did.

The Longbottom felt very privileged at that knowledge.

So he had helped Harry in searching for something to help him breathe underwater. And since he wasn't really good with spells or potions, Neville had moved on to the next best thing; his specialty, Herbology. And he was hoping that it would lift his friend's mood to know that there was indeed a type of plant to help a human breathe underwater.

"What's wrong, mate?" He mumbled quietly.

"I met Astoria." Harry frowned as he filled his plate with roast beef and mash potato.

Neville winced.

"She's generally nice to people… who are pureblood." He informed the raven haired boy meekly and saw realization light within Harry's eyes.

"I don't know what to really expect," Harry admitted a little embarrassedly. "But I didn't certainly anticipate Malfoy's younger twin sister."

Neville snorted in amusement.

"Only not such a prat as him." He smiled.

"Yeah, but they're so different." Harry admitted with an almost inaudible groan, Neville knew whom he was referring to. "Daphne could have cared less and her sister… she acts likes those purebloods in our society, no offense Nev, only hers is more subtle and you won't even notice it unless you've seen it before."

"Daphne just dislikes being linked to her father and belief in blood purity is one of them. Astoria was raised to be the heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass so it was kind of expected of her." Neville felt the need to explain and defend the younger one, he rather liked the younger Greengrass.

"Why's Daphne not listed as the heiress?" Harry asked in confusion.

Apparently, Ron and Hermione were listening and the redhead instantly stepped in with a dark scowl. His blue eyes flickered to the Slytherin table with disgust and Neville almost groaned. Hermione seemed to sense what he saw too.

But her eyes were uncertain for some reason.

"She obviously can't be," Ron spat irately and missed the way Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously at him. "She's still officially the heiress of the Rosier Family. A dark family who joined You-Know-Who so I'm telling you, Harry, you can't trust her."

"Why?" Harry challenged with a calm stare which Neville quickly learned to associate with calm before the storm.

"Because she's from the Rosier Family! What if she's in league with Death Eater children? It's dangerous!" Ron hissed with increasing urgency and complete belief in what he said.

Hermione looked at him in shock. Neville could only stare at him in anger. Harry still looked perfectly serene and composed, even though his eyes were flashing severely.

"And just like I can trust the both of you," Harry finally brought up after weeks of walking around the topic of their strained friendship. "You and Hermione aren't Death Eater children, aren't blood purist, aren't associated to Slytherin, aren't associated to dark, but you have betrayed my trust the most after I gave it to you willingly for the past three years. And if Daphne's dark by family association, are you also telling me that Sirius is a Death Eater because he's from the dark family of Blacks?" He finally glowered at the redhead who looked truly shocked, as if slapped, and thoroughly speechless.

Neville noted with sympathy that Hermione looked entirely crestfallen.

"S-Sirius is different–" Ron tried to stutter out as he realized what his explanation had actually sounded like.

"How?" Harry glared at him. "Because he's in Gryffindor?" He questioned sarcastically.

"I guess…" Ron reluctantly agreed, somewhat seeing his friend's point of view at the moment and he didn't like what it meant.

Hermione tried to defuse the argument from escalating further.

"Harry, you know Ron was just worried–" She started somewhat quietly as her eyes looked at Harry pleadingly.

"Stop, Hermione, right now, it's between him and I." He gritted out, obviously furious as he turned to the redhead. "Ron, I can understand why you think of the house that way. Most of them had done nothing to actually dissuade us of them being backstabbing dark bastards. But once you graduate, houses mean absolutely nothing outside this castle. Do you think Flourish and Blotts asks you first what house you belonged to before selling you any books? In fact, if it were up to what house you were previously in, then Professor Lupin wouldn't have been sacked and would still be our professor this year. He's from Gryffindor but he's also a werewolf. But did him being in our house signified anything once they knew what he was?"

Ron avoided his gaze nervously, obviously horrified as his widened eyes stared blankly at the table. As if he still couldn't comprehend what Harry just said but could feel the reality of the words. Even Hermione looked stunned but impressed and a little proud. Neville stared at him with somewhat surprised eyes.

Harry then softened his gaze.

"I was like that too. I'm not saying that most of the Slytherin's members aren't dangerous but I'm willing to give those who can prove themselves a chance. I talked to Sirius about it–he told me to be careful but he also told me that he has a cousin who is a Slytherin and has been disowned from the Black Family for marrying a muggleborn." The other three straightened in surprise and slight awe. "Does that tell you Slytherins are all evil?"

With those parting words, he tiredly stood up from his seat and turned to Neville.

"Let's go to the library." He stated quietly with a gentle incline of his head.

Neville slowly stood up.

"Alright," He mumbled in agreement.

Harry turned to the still silent Ron and Hermione and smiled a little sadly, his eyes pained and exhausted.

"I wish it was never like this. That it was just like before. But, you made your choice," He gestured with his hands at the obvious divide that now existed even at how much it obviously pained him to do so.

Then he sighed.

"And… I guess I made mine too."

With that, he swept out of the Great Hall with Neville beside him.

"Harry! Wait!" Hermione yelled after him as they walked down the corridor on their way to the library.

He turned around just as he and Neville paused.

"Hermione?" He asked uncertainly as he stared at her unsurely.

She ignored the ache that followed at the reaction. Harry was usually open with her and never hesitated to approach her before. And seeing him so doubtful and a little nervous, she finally realized that before was now only a memory and they only had the present at the moment.

The girl disregarded the lump in her throat and the way her eyes suddenly stung; holding back.

"Thanks," Hermione stated quietly. "About what you said to Ron. I've been trying to tell him that since first year and it just seems to never break through. But what you just told us, it actually made him think and realize. He wouldn't transform overnight but I could see the change." She admitted to him a little ashamedly.

But Harry shook his head.

"I did it because he needed to hear it, Hermione, nothing more." He then grinned at her. "If it still means anything, you're still my friends." He told her firmly.

Her heart started to swell with hope as she gazed at him.

"But I can't just forget." Harry continued just as strongly.

And you needed to earn that friendship back to what it used to be, was left unsaid but she instantly understood.

She gave him a watery smile and nodded confidently.

"I know."

"So you mean this gilly weed will allow me to breathe there?" Harry asked in awe as Neville showed him that particular book in Herbology that mentioned the plant. It looked like a messy tangle of green slimy roots but the details how it could give a wizard temporary gills and flipper feet to function underwater was absolutely brilliant.

Neville nodded confidently.

"I don't know if we'll find one in the school's Greenhouses but I already wrote to Gran about sending us some supply of it, just in case." He told his friend with a shy smile, quietly proud of his achievement.

"Nev, that's bloody brilliant!" Harry grinned as he finally solved his problem for the second task.

"I know," The boy smiled widely. "But you need a back-up plan if something unexpected happens." He reminded the raven haired boy before he could get overexcited, Harry had the tendency to be like that sometimes.

Harry groaned as he slumped in his chair.

"I know," He sighed. "Daphne wouldn't let me forget that anyway."

"Too right, I won't, and for the bloody last time, it's Greengrass." A voice harshly cut in as he and Neville gazed up to see Daphne sit across from them roughly, her features twisted into a very furious expression. And her hair was now tied tightly into a high ponytail, shorter strands framing her livid face.

"What's up?" Harry asked gently to the incensed girl.

She glared at him in contempt.

"Why didn't you tell me that Astoria approached you?" Daphne hissed irately, her eyes dark and infuriated.

"Since when did we agree that I should be relaying whom I meet to you?" He raised an eyebrow in slight challenge, and maybe a little innocent mischievousness.

"Since that girl is my sister, you dimwit."

"So I'm dim-witted now, am I? What happened to the supposed proficient individual in Defense?" He responded back sarcastically.

"That doesn't speak for the whole of you, seeing as how moronic you are generally." She quipped a little scathingly, narrowing her eyes at him dangerously.

Harry gave her a charming smile that might be a little tight at the edges.

"And where will I ever be if your intelligent highness hadn't graced me with her presence?" He replied a little sweetly and a tad sarcastic with a touch of dryness.

"Maybe below idiotic level." She deadpanned.

Harry now had a curious look on his face.

"Now that's just harsh, even for you." He stated with a little grin.

Neville watched on, amused, terribly used to it now after weeks of seeing the same bantering. It was especially funny when Harry's face visibly scrunched in thought as he considered a suitable comeback for Daphne's insults. But it was funny, since their witty comebacks became more amusing each time.

"What did Astoria want?" The girl suddenly demanded.

Of course, it was just like Daphne to instantly go back to the original topic before Harry's words got to her. Though, he, too, stared at the raven haired boy with questioning eyes, wanting to hear the answer as well. Neville knew that Astoria meant well but she could be highly overbearing at times and somewhat arrogant. The younger girl was also like her older sister in terms of not wanting to be proven wrong. She was raised to be that way. And he had to concede to Harry's point, she awfully reminded him of Malfoy too when they first met. But when he had broken through that rough exterior, there was a simply strong-willed and ambitious girl. If somewhat naïve.

Harry shrugged, suddenly looking annoyed and uncomfortable.

"She told me to be a thankful git since you're basically painted with a bull's eye in your own house." He grunted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Painted with a bull's eye?" Daphne questioned with a raised eyebrow, her honey-gold eyes slightly mocking.

The raven haired boy ran a hand through his messy locks.

"Never mind, it's a muggle reference." Harry amended as he gestured with his hand. "It means being a target of hostility." He clarified dryly.

"That bloody brat," Daphne spat out angrily. "I will not apologize, Potter, but my sister has the tendency to meddle with my affairs that never concerns her."

"I think she's only worried," Neville tried to put in.

But the raven haired girl just scoffed in obvious disbelief.

"Neville, we're talking about my sister. She's a Slytherin for a reason. If she indeed somehow implied that worry, then she could be on to something. I trust her to never betray me but I don't trust her when she's being nosy like this." Daphne explained to them patiently, born from years of really knowing what she was talking about.

Neville saw the familiar wrinkling of Harry's nose whenever he was annoyed. It was due to Daphne's adamant refusal to refer to the boy by his first name while calling Neville cordially with his. And the Longbottom never understood Daphne's distant if somewhat scathing attitude towards Harry–they certainly looked like that they were getting along until a slip-up would appear and break the image of friendship.

"You know, you talk about her as if she's more of an ally than a family." Harry suddenly pointed out blankly, his gaze immediately sharp.

"Of course, she's an ally. She's my sister. I'd never trust anyone to watch my back except for her. You may want to watch your mouth, Potter, your words might be misunderstood if you're not too careful." Daphne warned darkly, her eyes glinting icily.

And that was also one of the things that caused things to spiral down. Neville could see that Harry was certainly getting to know Daphne better and there were things about her that he either disapproved of or was confused about. And this was certainly a topic Harry apparently disapproved.

Harry was aiming to understand the girl since the boy knew that everyone had their own downsides regardless of what people thought of them.

The only problem was that Daphne always took it as an offense to her person.

"Take your own advice, Daphne, people might mistake it for something else." Harry smiled at her tightly, his eyes staring back at the scowling girl defiantly.

"It's Greengrass, you stupid prat. Meet me at the empty classroom by the second floor next to Professor Flitwick's office tomorrow evening. Don't be late, Potter." Her eyes told them that she would not be letting go of Harry's remark.

The girl stood up and stalked away.

Neville just stared at Harry and was about to open his mouth when he was cut off.

"I know, I know that I shouldn't have said that." Harry stated before Neville could state the obvious. "But Merlin, she's making it really difficult between us, Nev."

"Then why did you?" Neville found himself asking.

"I just couldn't stand the way she talked about family," Harry admitted to him with a bitter smile. "I don't have the right to judge her since I don't have any idea about how she grew up. But, she says she sees Astoria as family but the way she says it…" He trailed off as he shook his head, unsure how to really express what he wanted to tell.

The subject was sore to both of them who mostly grew up without parents. But Harry had it worse with his muggle relatives who abhorred magic.

But he was glad that Harry was trying, since Neville understood Daphne's plight.

"Harry, you know that Daphne's a Slytherin, right?" He asked the boy carefully who nodded slowly in return. "And if those folks from her house really had it in for her, they would strike what they see as her weakness. Their relationship wouldn't be the best but Daphne's always looked out for Astoria."

Green eyes widened in comprehension.

"You don't mean…"

Neville nodded.

Harry groaned to himself but the Longbottom knew that he was inwardly relieved.

"Ah hell," The raven haired boy muttered.

"Get out, did I tell you that you can enter?"

Their uncle's voice stated coldly and she hid behind the corner for fear of bringing the man's attention to her. This was the first time she had seen him angry. And this was the first time she had seen her older sister so downtrodden. And she inwardly felt guilty about it. She was the one who told her sister that their uncle liked to be reminded of their mother–and told her about the family picture that hung in their mother's bedroom. Her five year old mind still couldn't comprehend that the family portrait that she had pointed out was when their father was still part of them.

Judging from the charred wood and canvas, her sister had tried to burn it.

"What is that thing doing in there!" Her sister cried out instead, obviously ignoring the question.

"It's your mother's." The man answered tightly. "I never touched any of her possessions. So why did you do it?"

"That man is not my father!" Her sister insisted as she angrily wiped the tears. "Why do you still keep reminders of him inside this house? Isn't what he did to mom enough?"

Their uncle raised his hand as if to hit her sister but stopped.

"Because whether I like it or not, Monica loved that man." Uncle Harold said softly as he let his arm fall limp by his side. "And you're more of your father than I care to admit." The man suddenly uttered angrily, flicking his wand at the burned portrait and vanishing it, and walked away without a word.

Daphne got this angry look on her face again that Astoria knew she always got when their parents were mentioned.

When honey-gold eyes met her own brown ones, Daphne frowned.

"It's so unfair." Her sister mumbled as she stared at Astoria's face intensely, before smiling at her somewhat sadly.

That was the last time she saw her older sister smile.

Astoria glared at Potter as she saw him walk out of the Great Hall with Longbottom.

She knew that her sister could take care of herself but she didn't trust the filth of her house more so. The encounter between her sister and McNair, Rowle, and Yaxley had already reached her. It didn't take too long for her to deduce what it meant. She had made sure to rile the Potter boy enough so he would say the words to assure herself, that her sister wasn't alone. She had feared for Daphne's safety since words got back to Ferdinand Lestrange. And that bastard was dangerous–despite being arrogant, he never played fair. She was giving Potter the head's up for the incoming trouble and an advantage for her sister.

In their short encounter, Astoria couldn't exactly fathom why her sister was associating with someone like Potter.

He was extremely oblivious. When she said oblivious, she meant he lacked knowledge. It was known within her house that he was brought up by muggles but surely, he must have been at least educated in the magical world. Obviously, not. He didn't even know that his connection with her sister was the only thing protecting her from outright hostility–not only of his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived but also as the Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter. And as much as the articles slandered his name, Astoria knew that people from the Wizardry World couldn't just forget his noble deed after the fear the previous dark lord had spread around.

Daphne could have just cut ties with him and everyone in her house could let it go and forget it ever occurred. Best left buried behind. But her sister, for some reason, still interacted with the boy. And she never gave her reasons why. From her short conversations with Daphne, she was bitter and somewhat aggravated by Potter. Though, for her part, it was still hard to read the older girl carefully.

So she would now just opt in watching Potter and maybe, he could give answers to her unanswered questions much better than her sister.

Daphne's eyes narrowed as she watched Potter get the hang of using the Accio charm wandlessly.

He seemed possibly delighted at being able to summon objects at his will. She had to admit, it was impressive, but she wouldn't say that to his face. But he had a hard time pouring power into some of the curses she had taught him, he lacked the true intent behind casting them. To at least desire inflicting pain upon someone who deserved it. Some of those spells would be labelled as questionable and yet, Potter persevered to execute them.

For the most part of the practice, they had decided first to enhance their prowess in performing the spells themselves. Or at least, that was Potter's idea–no doubt, taken out of former Professor Lupin's book.

But Daphne had enough, she had brought Potter here to improve fighting. Not to learn spells that she could research on her own.

So without further ado, she pointed her wand at Potter who was still staring at his conjured chair.

"Incarcerous," She spoke quietly and watched in fascination as Potter tensed before hastily rolling out of the spell's way, barely. At least, Potter had some ingrained reflexes within his person and was quick on his feet.

Widened green eyes stared at her before narrowing angrily as he stood up.

"What the hell, Greengrass?" He spat out, his eyes suddenly flashing furiously and she had to fight off a smirk as this was the first time Potter had addressed her with her last name, just like she had told him numerous times.

She twirled her wand wordlessly and scowled at him.

"Potter, if you would care to remember, I asked you to be here to spar so I could sharpen my duelling skills. Learning spells, I can do on my own just like you can. I'm tired of simply wasting magic and time so I'm taking the necessary initiative." She felt the need to explain at his livid expression, the same she had seen when he was still at odds with his former friends.

It was as if Daphne had breached his trust.

What did he expect? After that remark? That she would just stand here and let him direct the session while acting like nothing ever happened? She wanted some thrill and adrenaline, some blood so she could calm down. If possible, Potter's at the moment.

"So you'll point your wand at me while my back was turned?" He questioned harshly as he stared at her in disbelief, for some reason, he seemed absolutely angered by this.

"No, I am just acquiring vengeance for your words earlier." She responded irately with brutal honesty as her eyes narrowed at him dangerously.

It seemed that she had said the right thing as he calmed down, eyes now guilty as understanding lit them.

"Look, I shouldn't have said that when I didn't know a thing about it but please warn me next time when you've decided to go for revenge, alright?" He asked sweetly as he combed a hand through his messy locks–a habit that she was starting to associate with nervousness or, as of now, agitation.

"Too right, you shouldn't," Daphne interjected and expertly ignored the rest, abhorring how people always assumed just because that was what they saw.

He sighed and judging from his expression, it was as if he was telling himself that he should have expected this.

"Alright, let's just get this over with." He suddenly grinned as he shifted his stance, eyes now alert and hard as he readied himself.

She smirked darkly at him.

"You're funeral," Her smirk widened at his sudden wary look. She aimed her wand as she proceeded to show Potter no mercy. "Diffindo,"

They proceeded to enter the Great Hall with the other champions and their dates as they danced their way in for the opening of the Ball.

Cedric Diggory had gone with Cho Chang who was a year above Harry, Fleur Delacour went with Roger Davies, and Victor Krum, surprisingly enough, went with a stunning Hermione during that night. Harry smiled at Hermione as he danced with Daphne, relieved that his feet didn't fail him at the dance floor. Though, his left shoulder was still a bit sore after that nasty hex seared his entire left side. Madam Pomfrey was very furious about it. And it didn't help that Daphne wasn't the slightest apologetic about it, he guessed that she really was serious when trying to toast his hide for his words.

But it was worth it now as he looked at his date's appearance.

Daphne had opted for a strapless golden silk dress–something to help her manoeuvre her arm movements easier, according to her–that brought out the color of her eyes much vividly with elbow length black gloves and flat black sandals as she simply let her hair down. She also refused to wear make-up of any kind and preferred a simple pair of pearl earrings and a silver chained necklace instead. And in his eyes, she was still beautiful. If only she would stop glaring at him, it would have been much better.

"Potter, you can take your eyes away now." She hissed under her breath, literally holding him at arm's length.

"I can't if the sight is as beautiful," He smiled charmingly but she just snorted unhappily.

"And it would be appreciated if you could keep those comments to yourself." Her eyes narrowed further.

"You're such a charming young lady," He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his own sarcastic comment. "Anyone ever told you that?"

"Keep going, Potter," Daphne smiled sweetly. "I might just hex that arrogant head of yours off of your shoulders." She purposely stepped on his foot as they made a turn, her expression a tad smug as she watched Harry's expression turn into strained pleasantness.

"Didn't you already try that three days ago?" He inquired innocently, his smile tight as he ignored his stinging toes.

She nodded solemnly as if disappointed.

"I tried and you still have it, right?" She commented dryly.

They didn't notice it when other couples started joining the champions on the dance floor. Neville was grinning as he danced with Lisa Turpin. Ever since he had come to hang out with Harry in the library, he and the Ravenclaw got to spend some time together and have several debates about Herbology when he left his friend with the Slytherin. Her family owned a flower shop in London and Neville was ecstatic to learn more about it–it honestly fascinated him. Then there was Ron who was resignedly dancing with Parvati–whom Seamus managed to convince since the Irish boy was going with the girl's best friend, Lavender. Surprisingly, Astoria was there as well with Miles Bletchley.

And from the side, Ferdinand Lestrange–a tall pale boy with stormy gray eyes and shoulder length silky hair–watched Harry and Daphne intensely with his date, Catherina Ortiz, a seventh year Ravenclaw.

Neither of the two being watched noticed though.

"Of course, dear," He grinned at her mischievously as Daphne steadily glowered at him.

"Potter," She gritted out. "You're pushing your luck," She deliberately pinched his arm to prove a point and Harry almost yelped out loud.

"Whatever you say, dear," He emphasized with a wide forced smile as he expertly dodged Daphne's foot from stepping on his–he was ready for it this time since he anticipated another. Hopefully, it would be the last attempt.

Daphne glared at him balefully.

"Don't make me aim higher," She threatened him darkly and purposely raised her right foot as if to prove a point.

Harry's smile fell.

"Merlin, Daphne, can't we just have fun and… dance?" He finally asked with a grim sigh.

"It's Greengrass, and I thought you're already having fun? You certainly looked like it." She quipped back irately, rolling her eyes.

Harry paused and stared at her deeply as he leaned his face down, closer.

"But are you?" He questioned softly, his breath washing over her face.

She pursed her lips and raised her right hand to push his face away, gently shoving him away from her personal bubble.

"I will if you stop being such an arrogant bastard." She admitted reluctantly with a soft sigh.

"But you make it so easy," He teased as he grinned. "And I'm not an arrogant bastard as you put it," He added as an afterthought.

Daphne's eyebrow twitched.

With that, she shoved him further away from her person.

"I'm going to get some drinks," She growled at him before stalking away, extremely annoyed.

Leaving Harry standing there who sighed–he seemed to be doing that a lot lately in her presence. Really, why couldn't the girl just let go and relax? And it didn't help that he certainly had this talent for saying the wrong things. He had talked to Sirius about it–apparently, he inherited it from his father which didn't evidently charm his mother earlier in the long run. Sure, the banter was fun and good but then it would all crash down with the wrong word from either of them. But… he wasn't lying earlier when he said that Daphne made it easier–he would say something prodding here or there and she got riled up easily.

Yet, worse, it also didn't endear him to Daphne. If anything, the girl was growing more and more infuriated with him. So he wouldn't be actually surprised if she blew up at him one day and really avoided him.

He really dreaded that day.

"Potter," A voice growled behind him and Harry just turned in time to see a pair of stormy gray eyes before a spell came hurtling his way.

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