Chapter 8

Daphne Greengrass was angry. No, angry was too soft. Daphne was livid. She had waited and waited and Harry Potter, that hippogriff's arse, had not shown up for their meeting. While she had waited for him to arrive, she had been able to open the Room of Requirement. She had puzzled over why it had worked this time and not when Tracey had been with her. She had made a similar room to the one she and Harry had used the week previous, and was quite proud of herself. That all faded when, by half past seven, there was still no sign of the Gryffindor Golden Boy.

Daphne gave it up and made her way back to the Slytherin dungeons, fuming over Potter's obvious disrespect for her the entire way. Who in the bloody hell did that pompous jackass think he was? She had wasted valuable time waiting for him so they could at least pretend to be interested in one another and trying to form some kind of bond so the marriage wouldn't be so horrible.

Daphne felt such irritation as she finally got back to her common room and went straight to her dorm where she couldn't stop pacing and grumbling about contracts, respect and boys. Tracey had seen her friend storm into Slytherin House, frightening many younger students, and even a few older ones, and followed the fuming blonde into the dorm where Daphne unleashed a stream of curses that would have made sailors blush.

"So he never showed up?" Tracey asked, brushing some strands of auburn hair behind her ear.

"I don't know, do I?" Daphne snarled. "I got tired of waiting and came back here."

"What if he got held up? What if he's there now?" Tracey posed the scenario.

"Then, he can believe I stood him up. If that arrogant prick thinks I'm going to wait on him like some giggling fan girl, he's got another thing coming. I mean if he couldn't make it, why not get a note to me, have Granger say something. If he's not interested in trying to forge some kind of bond, fine, but don't keep me waiting like some tart!"

"Oh, my god." Tracey snickered, covering her mouth with her hands. "You like him."

"What?!" Daphne asked, looked horrified. "I most certainly do not!"

"You do, too. You'd never be this peeved if any other boy stood you up. You like Po…"

"Finish that sentence, and I will remove your lips!" Daphne threatened.

"Fine. But are you really trying to tell me that you feel no attraction to him? None whatsoever?" Tracey prodded cautiously. Daphne was already very angry, and Tracey knew full well what her best friend was capable of. Tracey also knew Daphne incredibly well, sometimes better than the blonde girl herself did.

"Fine. I admit that he does have some nice qualities." Daphne scowled, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. Tracey knew that she had cracked the Ice Queen's armor a bit. She had been trying hard for the last two months to get the girl to see past the contract and Potter's fame, and really see the boy underneath it all.

"Such as?" Tracey pushed

"What is this? An inquisition? You're completely missing the point!" Daphne tried to deflect the question.

"Which is that you're upset because you got stood up by a boy that you like." Tracey rolled her eyes.

"That is not the point!" Daphne shrieked. "That is so far from the point that it's, it's…I don't know what it is!"

"Ok, let's examine this situation from another angle. Were you looking forward to this evening, even the tiniest bit? Be honest, now."

Daphne huffed and turned away from Tracey, finding her blankets quite fascinating. She knew what Tracey was up to with the questions, but Daphne knew that she most certainly didn't like Harry Potter. But if she were honest with herself, she was looking forward to speaking to him this evening. She had learned a bit about him, and was hoping to gleam some more information on him.

"Fine. Somewhere deep inside I may have ever so slightly been looking forward to seeing him tonight." Daphne sighed, annoyed at herself now.

"Good." Tracey smiled knowingly. "Do you not find him even the littlest bit cute?"

"All right!" Daphne shouted, her fists clenched so tightly that here hands were white as new sheets as she turned to face her friend again. Tracey sat smirking coyly on her own bed.

"I admit that as a hormonal, sixteen year old girl, I find him a bit on the good looking side. Yes, he has very attractive eyes. Yes, his hair, while being a right disaster, has a sort of charm to it. And yes, I admit that when we last spoke, it was not an unpleasant experience, but none of that means I like him."

"You're right." Tracey grinned. "But, if that is true, why are you so furious that he never showed up, or gave you any indication he wouldn't be there tonight? You would have never even batted an eyelash were it any other boy, even Jean-Pierre in fourth year. So, why are your knickers all in a twist over this incident?"

Daphne stared hard at her best friend, thinking it all over in her head. Was it possible that she might actually have some spark of feeling for Harry Potter after all? No. That was just ridiculous. Tracey was simply twisting everything up because she had found the entire situation more enjoyable than any other thing in her life.

"You need to find a boy to snog and forget about my love life." Daphne seethed.

"Oh, my dear sweet Daphne, don't you be worrying about my virtue. I got someone looking after it already."

"What?" Daphne asked flabbergasted.

"You are too easy." Tracey cackled madly. Daphne balled up her fists, stamped her foot, and shrieked with rage before climbing into her bed, pulling the curtains closed viciously.

Harry had received a note earlier in the day asking him to once again join the Headmaster that evening. He had arrived on time and entered the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore greeted him with his customary smile and asked Harry to sit across from him. Harry sat down and took a deep breath. Before Dumbledore could begin their "history" lesson, Harry asked the thing that had been weighing on his mind since Hermione had screamed at him last Thursday evening.

"Sir. I've been thinking about our lessons. I know you believe them to be important, but for the life of me, I can't figure out how. How is seeing bits of memory going to teach me how to defeat Voldemort? Wouldn't our time together be better spent with you showing me new spells? I don't mean to be rude, sir, but this doesn't make any sense. You could have just told me all this stuff and we could have moved on."

Dumbledore stared at Harry for a long time, his face was startled by Harry's outburst. The Headmaster stood up without a word and went to the Pensive. He began pacing back and forth, occasionally regarding Harry, who watched him. Finally, Dumbledore spoke, his voice even and calm.

"Harry, I have collected all these memories to show you something, which I myself still do not understand. We are building to an answer which I have only theorized. As we examine these memories, it is not only you who are learning, but I as well. But, perhaps you are right. While we are learning of Voldemort's past, and the secret to his final destruction, I have neglected to remember that it is you who will face him in the end. Even if we accomplish what I believe we must, it is still you who will confront him in the end." the Headmaster nodded thoughtfully.

"Very well. Unfortunately, my time is quite limited, and I cannot yet reveal to you what I must, as I do not believe I understand it all myself. But I will make arrangements for you to begin an advance tutelage. Perhaps Professor Flitwick would acquiesce to giving you some special training, while Professor Snape would help with advanced spell work."

Harry cringed at the thought of Snape demonstrating advanced curses and hexes on him, but Harry had to admit it was something. Still, Harry felt it was not as good as Dumbledore himself instructing him.

"Sir, why can't you show me?" Harry asked, hopeful that the Headmaster would change his mind.

"Ah, Harry. I am well aware of yours and Professor Snape's dislike for one another, but there is no one more skilled that I know than he. I am afraid that we have little choice. My time with you is limited, and there is much I must share with you. All will be revealed in time, and I beg of you to not ask too many questions. I promise that you will understand it all soon enough. Now, we must get to it, Harry. Rest assured that I will make sure your concerns are taken care of."

Two hours later, Harry tiredly stumbled into the Gryffindor Common Room where Ron and Hermione were awaiting him. They were sitting quite close on the sofa in front of the fire. Though he was quite happy for them, it still gave him a small stab of jealousy to see them so happy.

"So, what happened?" Hermione asked anxiously. They had all talked earlier, and Harry had informed them that he was going to confront Dumbledore on the topic of his lessons. They had all agreed that Harry needed more knowledge than what he was receiving from the Headmaster.

"He's going to get Flitwick and Snape to help teach me spells and, as I was leaving, he gave me this book to look at, but he's too convinced that these stupid memories are important. In fact, he wants me to get a memory from Slughorn. The one he showed me tonight, he said was the most important memory, but it turns out Slughorn altered it somehow, and Dumbledore wants me to get the real one."

"A memory from Professor Slughorn?" Hermione asked a little awed. "What was it?

"One of Slughorn's dinner parties from years ago. Riddle stayed behind to ask about something called a Horcrux, but the memory went all fuzzy and weird. Dumbledore say that Slughorn must be covering it to protect himself, and that the true memory is still within Slughorn's mind. He say that I need to persuade Slughorn to give it to me." Harry finished, shrugging.

"How?" Ron asked incensed.

"If Dumbledore can't convince Slughorn to give it to him, he must think you can somehow charm it out of him." Hermione said. "If Dumbledore thinks it's important, you should really try to get it."

"Weren't you the one who said that these memories were rubbish?" Harry asked the now blushing bookworm.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they are. Obviously there's something to them, or why would he be so adamant about you seeing them?"

"I still wish we could skip it all and he would just give me the overview." Harry sighed. "I could have been doing anything else. I could have been looking up new spells, or study for my Charms quiz, or even.."

"Been talking to Daphne?" Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Harry stopped and looked harshly at Hermione for a moment, before realization hit him.

"What is today?" He asked slightly panicked.

"Wednesday, why?" Ron asked curiously.

"Oh, bloody hell." Harry said, his hands going to his head in frustration. "I totally forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Ron was looking confused.

"I think he was supposed to meet Daphne tonight." Hermione said sympathetically.

"When I got Dumbledore's note, I forgot everything else."

"Wait, you didn't warn her you wouldn't be there?" Hermione sat up quickly.

Harry simply shook his head sadly.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione shook her head.

"Oh, I don't envy you at all, mate. Who knows what she'll cook up to make you pay for it." Ron snickered.

"Maybe I can talk to her tomorrow or something. Explain what happened. Except, I don't want anyone to see us talking. Neither of us want anyone to know about what's happening." Harry admitted.

"I can understand that, but it's going to make things difficult for you both." Hermione offered.

"I'll find a way." Harry said with finality. "I'm sure she'll understand when I explain it."

The next morning, Harry looked for Daphne in the Great Hall, but she never showed up. His first class was Charms with Slytherin, so he was sure she would be there and he might be able to get her attention and keep her after class to explain.

As he was making his way to class with Ron and Hermione, he was grabbed roughly from behind and pulled into an empty classroom. Ron spun on his heel to help his friend, but the door shut hard in the red head's face. Ron pulled his wand, preparing to blast through the door when Hermione's hand tugged on his arm.

"Ron, they need to work this out themselves." She smiled lightly.

"Who?" the thick headed Gryffindor asked.

"Harry and Daphne."

"How do you know it's just her? What if she's got friends helping her?"

"Ron. Leave it be. Harry will be fine. Let's go, or we're going to be late. Trust me."

Ron looked like he wanted to protest. He was truly torn between trusting his new girlfriend and helping his best friend who Ron believed to be in mortal peril. However, with another insistent tug on his arm, Ron followed his girlfriend to class. Somehow, Ron knew that if Harry were truly in danger, it would have been Hermione leading the charge into the classroom. Still, as they walked away, Ron kept looking back to the closed door, wondering what might be happening to his best friend.

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are, Potter?" Daphne said as she shoved Harry into the wall. Harry had never seen the blonde girl so angry.

Daphne held him pushed against the wall, her eyes blazing with her indignation. Harry looked a bit surprised by Daphne's strength, but wisely chose not to speak at that moment.

"What do you mean by standing me up last night. Do you think it's funny? Get a kick out of manipulating girls? I'm not to be trifled with."

"Can I explain?" Harry asked, a little bit of trepidation in his voice. "I got a note from Dumbledore asking me to meet with him. I forgot about our arrangement. I'm really sorry."

"How convenient. You got a note from Dumbledore and you just forgot. Didn't even think to get a message to me and let me know. I waited for half an hour, Potter!"

"Really?" Harry asked, a little surprised. Daphne glared daggers at him, and Harry realized it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Yes, really! Then, I had to suffer teasing from my best friend, all because of you! This isn't a game to me, Potter. I'm beginning to think death would be preferable than being married to you."

"But I really did get a note form Dumbledore." Harry tried again.

Daphne snarled and then she punched Harry as hard as she could. Harry stumbled a bit, his hands going to his mouth where Daphne's fist had connected.

Daphne shook her hand out and glared at Harry. She flipped her hair and stormed out of he class, leaving Harry staring blankly after her.

Well, at least she understood, Harry thought sarcastically.

"She actually hit you?" Hermione asked for the third time. Harry was hard pressed to find the humor in the situation as Hermione and Ron had. They were seated in the Great Hall at lunch a few hours after the incident in question.

Harry had shown up fifteen minutes late for Charms. His lip bleeding and swollen. His appearance had caused more than a few snickers from the Slytherins in class. Harry had noted, with distaste, Draco Malfoy's obvious glee with his rival's pain.

"Do you need to see the nurse, Mr. Potter?" Flitwick had asked.

"No, sir." Harry said bitterly. He caught Daphne's eye for a moment. She still looked quite angry, and more than a little satisfied. Harry also noted that Daphne had switched hands during class, he guessed because her right hand was still sore from punching him.

"I can't believe you let her hit you." Ron grinned.

"I didn't see it coming." Harry shrugged. "I got to make this right. She thinks I made it up so she'd wait for me. Like I'm playing some sort of game with her or something."

"You're going to have to do something big, Harry." Hermione advised. "Something to show her that you take this seriously."

"That might be hard. I got the distinct impression that she might not want to talk to me anymore." Harry said, looking over to the Slytherin table where Daphne was sitting with Tracey. Harry had seen her glaring in his direction a few times during lunch.

"Maybe I could talk to her." Hermione offered. "We have Arithmancy together this afternoon. Maybe she'll listen to me."

"You'd do that?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Harry, you're my friend. I want to help." Hermione smiled.

Hermione had been planning to speak with Daphne as it was. She had begun thinking that Harry needed help with the blonde girl anyway, and she had been trying to think of a way to help her friend with his predicament. This way, she didn't have to be so secretive about it.

"I'll try to talk to her today."

"Hermione, you are the best."

"Mr. Potter."

The voice was unmistakable. It was smooth and icy. Tyrannical and condemning. It was Snape.

Harry turned to face the spiteful teacher, who was eyeing him strangely.

"The Headmaster has informed me that you wish to have advanced lessons with me. As you are…" Snape seem to be choking on the next part of his speech. "seemingly ahead of your peers, I have agreed. You will report to my class at seven this evening where we will discuss your tutelage."

Snape left in a flurry of black cloak, leaving Harry a bit stunned.

"Did he just pay me a compliment?" He asked incredulously to his friends, who were just as stunned as he was.

"You want us to use Polyjuice to turn into little girls?" Crabbe asked, staring hard at Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy and his two ape-like cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, were seated as far away from the rest of their Slytherin Housemates as possible. Draco had more or less ordered them to sit with him away from everyone else so he was able to inform them of his plan. He had come up with it earlier in the week when he had been able to steal ingredients to make Polyjuice potion. He had begun brewing it in the Room of Requirement that very night.

"Yes. I need you to keep a look out for me. I came very close to being discovered the other night and I can't take that risk again. You two are the only ones I can trust."

"But why Polyjuice, and why girls?" Goyle asked.

"Because it would be far too suspicious if the two of you just started hanging around the Seventh floor, wouldn't it." Malfoy said, becoming irritated. He had finally come up with a plan that would keep him safer in his assignment for the Dark Lord. The problem had been in convincing people to help him. He had gone straight to Crabbe and Goyle, as he believed they would just blindly follow him. He had not counted on their trepidation at being turned into eleven-year-old girls.

"Why do you have to ask so many bloody questions?" Draco hissed. "Neither of you are any good at Transfiguration, and Polyjuice will give us plenty of time for me to accomplish what I must."

"So, it's only one time?" Crabbe asked, still looking hesitant.

"I don't know." Draco admitted. "It's been difficult. But with the two of you watching out for me, I can focus on the task and not be so worried about being caught. That will make it go faster."

"And, you're sure the He'll reward us?" Crabbe asked. Goyle looked greedy at the prospect of being rewarded for his sacrifices.

"Why wouldn't he?" Draco pondered. He had told his two friends that the Dark Lord would personally reward them for helping Draco accomplish his mission. Draco had no idea if it were true, but Crabbe and Goyle were very gullible and they would believe nearly anything he said.

"All right. But you better not take too long, Draco. I don't fancy being a girl, even to help you!" Crabbe nodded his consent. Goyle, too, nodded his agreement.

Draco felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He immediately began thinking of the task he'd been set and puzzling out what he was doing wrong and how to fix it all.

He had also begun thinking of other methods he might use to accomplish his goals. He had written a letter to Borgin of Borgin and Burke's requesting a few items be sent to the Three Broomsticks. He had someone there that he trusted to take care of them until he could get them himself.

Draco glanced Hermione Granger and again cursed the troublesome Muggleborn. She had won the vial of liquid luck in their first Potions class. Draco wished for Hermione's death, as he stuffed a fork full of potatoes into his mouth. If only he'd gotten that helpful little vial, he could have finished his task and he would be standing at the Dark Lord's right side.

If only… Draco thought.

"May I sit with you?" Hermione asked.

Daphne Greengrass looked up into the cinnamon-brown eyes of Hermione Granger and simply shrugged.

"Thank you."

Hermione noted that Daphne looked much calmer now. She guessed that having her "conversation" with Harry had alleviated much of the blonde's anger.

Hermione's intention was to speak with Daphne about Harry, but Professor Vector had a long lecture that class. Hermione's nature over rode her plan, and she listened intently to the lecture, taking detailed notes the whole time. When class was dismissed, Hermione caught Daphne, who was preparing to leave class.

"I wanted to talk to you about Harry."

Daphne looked about quickly, making sure no one had heard Granger's word vomit.

"What about him?" She said, when she was sure no one had heard anything.

"He feels really bad about last night. You have every right to be angry with him, though your method was a little brutish. He really did get called to Dumbledore's office, and he really did just forget."

"That doesn't fix it, Granger. I wasted part of my evening waiting for him. This isn't some kind of game to me."

"It's not a game to him, either. He wants to make things up to you, to show you he takes this seriously."

"Look, I can appreciate what you're trying to do here." Daphne said sourly. "I admire that you're trying to help a friend, but just stop. I don't need it, or him."

Daphne gave a meaningful look and left Hermione looking confused.

"She's wrong."

Hermione turned to see Tracey Davis still seated at one of the desks.

"What do you mean?"

"She does need him, she just hasn't realized it. I've known her a long time, and I know that she needs someone to treat her like a fairy tale princess. She's got a really hard exterior, but she's just a girl underneath it all, and she wants the same things as the rest of us- a boy to honestly care for her, and shower her with love and affection. This whole contract has really messed up her life." Tracey explained as she stood gathering her things.

"Harry is the same. He needs a good woman who isn't going to worship him for being something he's not. He needs someone to love him for who he really is. Someone who will cut through his rubbish and tell him when he's being an idiot."

"See what I mean?" Tracey grinned. "They're meant to be together, even without the contract. The problem is…"

"They're too focused on the contract to focus on themselves." Hermione finished. "So long as it's hanging over their heads, they're never going to give each other a fair chance."

"They're both too suspicious and guarded." Tracey added. "I thought it was a good move when they were going to meet and get to know one another, but they've gone and screwed it all up already. So we need to help them get back on track." Tracey gave a grin that made Hermione chuckle.

"Tracey, I think we might become quite good friends." Hermione said, offering her hand.

"We might just at that, Hermione." Tracey smiled shaking Hermione's offered hand and then taking her arm and walking out of the class with her new friend. "Now tell me about the boys of Gryffindor."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You want me to what?" Harry asked after Hermione had finished. She had come back to the Common Room that evening quite pleased.

"You have to do something big, Harry. You have to let your guard down, and show her something huge."

"But, Hermione…" Harry started to object.

"Harry, you have to appeal to her sense of curiosity. Doing this will not only prove a lot of the rumors about you are true, but it will show her a great amount of trust." Hermione tried.

"But, it's not what you would call romantic." Harry said, eyeing Hermione suspiciously.

"So you're thinking about her romantically now?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it. I'm just saying that she doesn't seem like the kind of girl who'd want to go traipsing about…"

"Will you just trust me on this?" Hermione asked, growing exasperated with her friend's reluctance. "Do this, and you will not only gain her trust back, but I guarantee you'll earn her respect."

Hermione gave him a look that he knew well. She was convinced that this was the right course of action. He heaved a great sigh and nodded.

"Good. Meet her tomorrow night in your usual place." Hermione grinned, patting Harry's shoulder, before beginning her homework.

Hermione could not stop smiling. She and Tracey Davis had talked for nearly an hour before dinner. They had discovered they had much in common. They both loved a good book, though the subject differed greatly. Tracey's mother was a medi-witch at St. Mungo's, while both Hermione's parents were Dentists. They also learned that they both despised Draco Malfoy.

Tracey was a bit like Lavender Brown, in that she was very interested in boys. A lot of their conversation had revolved around the subject of Gryffindor males, particularly Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas. Tracey had seemed a little disappointed to learn that both Seamus and Dean were in fact spoken for at the moment. But perked right back up when they returned to their original topic

They had discussed at great length a way to get their two friends to swallow their pride and give themselves a chance for happiness with each other. It was through their discussion that the plan had formed. It had been Tracey who mentioned Daphne's curiosity with Harry's legendary exploits, and a bit of intrigue she held as well. Hermione thought for several moments before the idea struck. She explained that there was a way for Daphne to not only learn the truth, but see it for herself.

The plan was simple. Convince the two to meet the next evening. Hermione would suggest to Harry where to take Daphne, while Tracey would get Daphne to meet Harry. The rest, as Hermione grinned to Tracey, would take care of itself