EDIT: I corrected two points, they are when I confused the "dowry" which has been replaced by "amount of money" so as to mean that Pureblood males' families are prone to pay back something if the bride's family is prestigious and a contract is being activated (with some obvious provisions to grant alliances and heirs).

Second edit regarded the Honeydukes, which I thought it being the Food trolley on the Hogwarts Express when actually it's a shop in Hogsmeade.

I'm sorry but since I am neither an English native speaker nor I read the books in English, I befuddled them (just consider that Honeydukes in Italian is Mielandia which resembles no similarity whatsoever).

Chapter 1:

The sun was shining in the last hours of its path through the sky, the grass was greener than ever and the walls of the Greengrass Manor looked like a sort of shield protecting some sort of forbidden heaven.

Daphne loved her house's garden: it was huge, green and quiet, a perfect place whenever she needed to get some serenity beyond problems' grip.

She could think, reflect and relax alone, without any interjection or interference: somehow that was her garden, albeit she had in no way any exclusive power over it.

And the armchair, how could have she forgotten the armchair? That wonderful, softy, mushy and comfortable armchair, which literally was a life-saver.

And there she was, sitting on that armchair, longing to have the chance to sleep something more than her allowed naptime.

Although Daphne had her eyes only half-open, she couldn't ignore the gleaming and streaking title on the front-page of the Daily Prophet, let alone just skip the title written in enormous letters with a terrifying photo of a newly born Dark Lord.

Daphne wasn't exactly fond of the Daily Prophet, yet not even her deep disbelief towards the commonly spread Wizarding mass-media could overcome the importance of that event.

Her eyes went to line in line, from letter to letter, ending one paragraph after the other: of all things she expected to read, she was sure to find that Harry Potter had some sort of connection to it, thus she wasn't surprised at all when she found a very common title in the last year-round edition of the newspaper, yet this time the title set her aghast:

"Harry Potter just a Hero or perhaps the Chosen One?"

Needless to say, she immediately began to read it.

"WHAT?"

She had heard all sorts of stories about the Boy-Who-Lived, yet this could easily rival the tale of the Basilisk and Harry Potter killing him with a sword, or was it an axe? Wasn't also somewhat involved a Muggle flying car?

And Muggles' cars aren't usually supposed to fly, let alone to kill a Basilisk.

Yet, according to the article, Potter hadn't only broken into the Department of Mysteries with some of his friends (Daphne had some clear suspicions about their identities) but he even managed to fight and fend off the Death Eaters, who were serving a non-existent dead Dark Lord until yesterday afternoon, but he even duelled against the Dark Lord and succeeded in escaping from him.

This was too much even for such a git as Potter seemed to be: totally averse to rules, a fame seeker (or, at least, that was how Draco depicted him) and an arrogant and pretentious boy.

Be it clear, Daphne didn't hold personally any grudge against the Potter boy, they had even barely talked to each other in five years of school and she was pretty much sure he wasn't even aware of her name, not that she cared at all.

And no, Daphne didn't trust Malfoy that much: he was stubborn, arrogant, pampered and too obsessed with his blood status and his father…but you know? When something gets repeated time after time you begin to unconsciously believe it, despite proofs of Potter's arrogance and glory's craving were abysmal to say the least.

And, to be honest, Daphne had to admit, and she hated to do it, that her House Director, alias Severus Snape, wasn't certainly a model of correctness, giving that he had not lost an occasion to detract whatever amount of points he could from Gryffindors.

Not that Daphne cared that much: she was on the right side of the barricade, the Slytherin's one, a comfortable position she wasn't certainly ready to abandon.

And Gryffindors were boring with all their insistence on honour and courage, on bravery and nobleness, all beautiful terms which, for Daphne, merely translated into senseless risk and death.

Why were they so blind that they could not evaluate the true valour of brain? Was it so hard to push, for once, muscles aside and put brain into the equation?

She preferred much more cunning and strategy over sheer force and brutality, where was the pleasure into smashing an enemy when you could make him crumble on his own?

And Potter was so Gryffindorish that she could have sworn the smell of nobleness and heroic courage from the Great Hall right to the Dungeons: so noble, so hero, so loyal and honourable.

Daphne was instinctively sure that Potter would have climbed the Astronomy Tower if some damsel in distress asked him.

Yet, she had to give him credit for telling the truth and, what she found more astonishing, for have never stepped off: he could have many defects but he mulishly withstood the entire storm thrown at him without ever taking back his statements.

Of two things Daphne was sure: Potter had some guts and how much she loathed admitting it.

The dining room of the Greengrass family wasn't that big but it certainly didn't lack any elegance or luxury: there was a thinly silvery decorated candleholder dangling from the ceiling, the table had been crafted in France at the beginning of 18th century while the silverware alone was made of the most precious Peruvian silver too.

Daphne was curious, she had been traipsing all the day, without helping anyhow in the kitchen and doing anything else deemed as useful for the family.

Yet, no one had told her anything: they were just…eating, no bantering, no chinwag, and no idle topics.

His father, Norman Greengrass, a well-respected Pureblood and Magic Businessman, was usually quite cheerful and joyful during dinner: he loved eating, also considering that magically never gained a kilo, something that Daphne seemed to have inherited, much to his sister dismay.

He was a serious man, with a deeply rooted work-ethic but once he was home, unless demanded by circumstances, seeing him worry or angry was quite rare: albeit Daphne remembered well when, flying on her new toy-broom, she brought ruination and destruction on her mother's vases and, on that occasion, she remembered how powerful his father's spankings were, she shuddered at the memory.

Her mother, Nathalie Anders, on the other hand, was as brilliant as protective: an excellent witch, especially in Charms and Transfiguration, Nathalie Greengrass née Anders was definitely a model for Daphne.

She was successful in her work, she was clever and independent and, above all, she married out of love and not because of some stupid betrothing contract.

Yes, her mother was obsessed with diet and fitness and was much sportier than her; she was an order-fanatic and seemed to be in love with gardening, all things that Daphne literally loathed.

Yet, her mother was a fundamental presence in her life, much more agreeable than her sister Astoria.

Astoria Greengrass seemed to live with the only purpose of getting on Daphne's nerves: two years younger than her, black hair, greenest eyes and a witty and clever mind, made her an as lovely as fearful enemy.

Daphne frowned at remembering how Astoria had been spying on her "sentimental" (and Daphne put a lot of effort into defining it in such a way) life during the fourth year: how she reported every single detail about her relationship with Blaise Zabini and how she wormed out of the punishment by making the meek eyes at her mother and candidly stating that "I don't know those things were private Mommy, I thought that Daphne was telling them as well".

Out of all possible chromosome combinations, how could have she had such a demon for sister?

The apparently calm voice of his father brought Daphne back to reality:

"Nathalie, have you read the Daily Prophet?"

Her mother slowly rose up eyes, put down the fork and replied:

"Certainly, who hasn't?"

"What do you think, my Love?"

"There's going to be a war, as you most certainly are aware of, and it will not be either pleasant or brief"

"I do agree"- nodded Norman Greengrass in response.

"Couldn't there be the peace?"-demanded loudly Astoria, as naively as sweetly.

"The Dark Lord won't stop as soon as he won't have gained the utter control over the British Wizarding society…"- Leniently replied her mother, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"And…as soon as he won't have killed that boy…Potter…you know how determined the Dark Lord is….he won't tolerate such a challenge, not certainly by a kid moreover"- added his father, the voice calm and quiet.

The silence fell upon the table, Daphne went back to eating, and her mind full of thoughts and ideas, again, the thrilling voice of Astoria brought all back to reality:

"Who are we going to side with?"

Then Daphne noticed what had been underlying for all the dinner, she saw it; she witnessed what she had never beheld before: a quiver of fear in her parents' eyes.

"With nobody honey"-replied Nathalie with a sweet voice while raffling Astoria's hair-"This is not our war".

Then Daphne let her thoughts come out:" How does it come it's not our war? It's a war involving everybody and it will most certainly affect everybody be they participant in it or not".

"You already know what we think about the Dark Lord's ideas, although I do encourage you not to openly stating them…"- her father's voice was quiet but cold-"yet I won't risk my family in a war where the winner is almost sure".

"I know you don't share the Purebloods' supremacy theory but..."

"There's no 'but' honey, we may not share those thesis, yet we won't challenge the most powerful wizard of our times for the sake of some ideas."- her mother's voice was slightly panicked.

"Plus, we are Pureblood yes"-agreed her father-"but we don't possess that much of wealth as before and since you know how I and your mother think about marriage contracts…"

"I know you won't ever make me marry someone for money's sake, thanks. But how does this affect the rest?"

"Not making you marry anyone for a conspicuous amount of money automatically means that our family wealth will be as necessary as never before now that the war is breaking out"- concluded her father.

Daphne's mind was frantically working whilst countless thoughts, ideas and hypothesis piled up in her brain.

"I am not saying we should fight but shouldn't we stand up for our beliefs?"-Daphne finally said with a weak tone.

"How Gryffindorish of you"- sarcastically replied her father.

"You know there's no way I would act like those lionhearted prats..."

"Then prove it! Use your cunning! Your brain! Use strategy!"

"I am using them!"

"No you are not Daphne; otherwise you would immediately notice that what you said is simply without any logical sense. Nobody can challenge the Dark Lord, you know that."

"Harry Potter did it, multiple times!"

"I will NOT"- for the first time her father appeared angry-"entrust my family's safety to a 16 years old boy with seemingly mental problems!"

"But…"

"There's no but Daphne! We have been working all our life to give you and your sister a safe future and I will NOT, and I said, NOT, spoil these sixteen years because of some ideas and beliefs. The debate ends here. Now go to bed."

Her father's voice had never been colder and firmer than during that last statement and Daphne had no doubts that she had crossed a border that she should have not.

To what end? Intimately, she agreed with her parents and she knew that the war had only one possible outcome, yet she had been reprimanded.

Although she could understand that her parents were frightened and agitated, she still thought they had overreacted, since it seemed evident to her that she hadn't any fault besides being just genuinely curious.

What irritated her most was that she got scolded because of…Harry…may you be damned…Potter!

For that prick, Daphne couldn't even believe that.

"What was in her mind?"

"Harry Potter did it, multiple times!"

Like she even cared about that! The deepest dialogue they had had was about handing over her bag!

"Stupid Daphne, Stupid Daphne"- she growled and plunged into her cosiest quilts and let the sleep overcome her rage.

Tracey Davis' beach house

"Am I not the hottest girl on the beach?"

"Considering there are just the two of us Tracey…"

"That would still imply I am hotter than you Daph…"

"You know how much I detest that nickname!"

"That's why I keep using it"

Tracey was insufferable. ..

…and Daphne's best friend.

"It has always to be me?"-wondered Daphne whereas she nudged her friend who was sunbathing.

Tracey could be sometimes very irritating but Daphne knew she had a good heart…somewhere in her breast.

Slightly long brownish hair, green eyes and a breathtakingly and perfectly shaped body which had made more than boy to ogle at her, sometimes even drooling.

It was funny how boys leering at Tracey (and often at herself too) came from all Houses: it seemed that when nice girls were involved, suddenly the House lost importance, curious, wasn't it?

Tracey had always insisted that their resistance against the hordes of horny boys made them something like two female superheroes: the brownie, alias Tracey, whose nickname came much more than what she liked to admit from her love/hate relationship with brownies' indigestion and blondie, albeit Tracey often remarked that Daphne's true nickname was Parry, apparently deriving from the absurd, for Daphne, idea that somehow having 15 posters of John Parr, the hott… err… great player of Dorset Dragonriders was allegedly indicative of any obsession for him.

Something Daphne had always categorically denied.

Sometimes, they were called as Brownie and Blondie, a dual nickname which made the both of them to smirk and laugh.

Blondie, as obvious, derived from Daphne blond hair which perfectly matched with her blue-sapphire eyes and her slightly pinkish skin.

A combination which naturally made blue her favourite colour for dressing, especially on important events.

She momentarily daydreamed about the Yule Ball: it had been quite a nice evening, she had danced with a Durmstrang gentleman who treated her like a princess and never dared to fondle her, be it out of cowardice or gentlemanliness, Daphne had never been able to know.

Nonetheless, she lost the Durmstrang boy when the Yule Ball ended, since it appeared evident that Northerner held no interest in her at all, having never looked for her anymore thereafter.

Daphne loved to bathe; she adored having even cold water flowing onto her skin, feeling the total freedom, feeling the control of your movements, feeling the freedom from body's weight.

It was something Daphne found relaxing and stimulating at the same time, something nobody in her family shared and she never managed to endear Astoria to do it.

As for sleeping, Daphne knew it wouldn't last: she had to go back since Pansy had just arrived and chinwag was about to begin.

Daphne's relationship with Pansy was a bit complicated: she was a friend of hers, true, yet Daphne had always felt farther from her than from any other of her friends.

Reasons were manifold: Daphne couldn't stand the worshipping veneration for Draco Malfoy, who was a nice looking boy, point given, but so full of himself that Daphne could have sworn he would have exploded like a balloon sooner or later.

Pansy, furthermore, was extremely haughty because of her blood status: it took her one year to "forgive" Tracey being a half-blood and she did that because Tracey's father was a very skilled and capable Healer, whose reputation preceded him wherever he went.

Plus, albeit Daphne had always been discrete concerning hers and her family's political views, especially when talking about zombie Dark Lords and blood, yet, Pansy had, somewhat, suspected her disaffection with commonly "Slytherin values" and since the second years had been longing to find some sort of confirmation to her suspects.

Aside from these facts, Daphne reckoned that once Pansy saw you as a friend, she was very loyal and fiercely defensive over you and your reputation: once she hexed a Ravenclaw who had stared for a second longer than allowed Daphne's cleavage during fourth year's summer when they used to sunbathing on the Lake's beach.

Pansy was rather attractive in Daphne's opinion: quite tall, brown eyes and dark hair in a bob haircut.

Like Tracey she had a very fine dressing style and was crazy about fashion (although she hated to admit that she followed Muggles' fashion as well).

"Hey girls! How are ya?"- She wore a white t-shirt and some very short shorts, which gained her some stolen glances from boys, who magically appeared as soon as the girls' swimming was over.

"Pan!"

Tracey's deliberate shrilling voice made Daphne shudder every time but she forced herself to smile instead of murdering her best friend.

"How long have you been staying here making boys ogling at you?"- Asked Pansy impishly.

"Pff…"- Tracey's pretentious self-control was quite amusing to see, especially considering boys were her main argument of discussion.

After fashion of course.

And gossip.

And torturing Daphne.

"We"- continued Tracey alluding to Daphne as well- "have taken a long and serious pause from stupid boys".

"A pause you say? So, we call 'pause' Jimmy Roberts? And Paul Harvey?"

"I don't know what you are talking about".

She may not, but the whole school does, thought Daphne, who, wisely, chose to keep this thought for her.

"And before? Weren't you interested in that….Anton Pavl…something?"-mischievously added Pansy deliberately ignoring Tracey's protests.

"It's evident you can distinguish between some innocent flirting and true attraction"-replied with a false superiority tone Tracey.

"Is exploring oesophagus with your tongue considered 'innocent flirting' now?"

"You hold no proofs"

"You mean, aside from the whole school plus ghosts and even Filch witnessing the scene? Where was? In the fountain courtyard or in the cobblestone one?"

"Irrelevant."- Then, recognizing the necessity of changing topic, Tracey added-"You instead…don't flee!"

Pansy's attempt to escape had been mercilessly stopped by the latching grip of Tracey who made her sit down.

"What about Draco?"

Pansy waited a while to answer, her eyes gazing downward while her fingers were repeatedly drawing circles in the sand.

"Honestly? I don't know. His father's imprisonment was devastating for him and I hardly received any owl during the holidays. It seems he wants to distance himself from the world"

She was nervous about as she kept thrumming on her palm.

"Didn't you drop in to see him?"-intervened Daphne.

It seemed the more logical thing to do, and Daphne always went for the logical things.

"I tried but their elf always told me that they were away and desired no visits"

"Have you tried to owl his friend?"- interjected Tracey.

"Yes but they didn't know anything or they didn't want to tell me anything"

"Not even Crabbe or Goyle?"

"Ahaha. They are barely literate, let alone know something about Draco I'm unaware of"

"Theo?"

"Nott? He just said that Draco and his mother were away and that he didn't know their whereabouts"

"Blaise"

"I must go inside for a moment"-said automatically Daphne and, without looking at any of her friends, she got up and moved away.

She just heard Tracey saying "You know…Blaise…she hasn't still gone over".

No. Daphne hadn't. Blaise had been her first and only crush in the fourth year and they went together rather quickly, even for Tracey's, very low, standards.

Daphne was aware that hers was just a mere crush, not certainly the life's love, and that time would have healed everything.

Yet, she still suffered for the way Blaise treated her.

After some months and a lot of snogging, Blaise wanted to…"go deeper".

Something she wasn't ready for.

"He'll understand. He'll wait."

No, he didn't. Just one day after Daphne's response, Blaise ridiculed her in the eyes of the all school by snogging in the Great Hall a stupid bitch from Hufflepuff.

Yes, Blaise was a prat and a git. A stupid tosser, a prick, but Daphne had daydreamt their relationship and his insensitivity had been a huge blow on her self-esteem.

She had no interest in boys, much unlike Tracey, and became rather cold towards the masculine genre.

However, the truth was that, the more Daphne tried to convince herself that she hated Blaise, the more she blamed herself for their breakup.

It was stupid, she knew that, but she had a hard time putting that concept in her head.

No matter how much Tracey picked on Blaise, no matter how much Millicent consoled her, she thought that she should have gone deeper.

Luckily their breakup had occurred at the end of May, thus she had the whole summer to mull over it and to wallow in her pain, undeniably a wasted summer, but those three months allowed her to return to Hogwarts much angrier and determined to go over Blaise, once and for all.

It had been difficult and occasionally like before Daphne had still some pain to soothe, but overall, she was optimistic about the future.

Wear off Blaise! Daphne was hell-bent on spending an awesome sixth year!

1st September,

Daphne could barely see anything beyond the huge crowd; animals of any kind and size made their calls whilst the smoke of the locomotive floated above their head and people tried to rush in the train, like if there weren't enough seats for everybody.

Barged into and hit multiple times, Daphne had several bruises when she finally managed to get on the train, trudging through the throng of students and desperately wandering along compartments while her trunk was getting heavier and heavier.

Once she and Millicent had found a compartment, she pounced on chasing the food trolley while her stomach was furiously growling and openly demanded food.

She dodged a few girls and accelerated but, just as the food trolley was in sight, Daphne got stuck in the queue of students who had had her same idea.

Well, she could just wait, ardently hoping that titbits wouldn't be over once her turn had come.

The landscape through the window was somehow interesting: green hills and countryside where a pleasant view, mountains and rivers kept alternating themselves while the light of the sun slowly disappeared.

Yet, after ten minutes, she got bored and leaned against the corridor's wall, just under a golden lamp which was weakly sparkling and spreading its light.

She snorted but she was aware that nothing changed, yet, instead of calming her, this made her even more irritated.

How long did it take?

Nonetheless, no matter what hexes she had in mind, how beautiful the landscape was or how tasty those titbits were, she had no way of making the process faster.

She just crossed her arms and glared the students before her, like if her glimpse could melt them down and let her finally reach the damn trolley.

Lost in her thoughts and plots, she was abruptly brought back to reality by a hand fondling under her skirt and a voice whispering in her ears: "Hey towhead! Do you want to have some fun with us? We have all the titbits you want"