Never turned out to be approximately fifteen hours.

In an effort to further encourage rule-following in the classroom, Inquisitorial Squad members were to be posted in any wherein none were actively attending class. They would only interrupt the class if they witnessed a breach in protocol. Otherwise, they would be silent observers. Whether or not this affected the educations of the Squad members didn't seem to matter to the administration. After all, what was the point of teaching them if they were just going to end up Ministry cronies in the end?

All this (including the 'cronies' line) was explained by a cross Trelawney at the top of Friday Divination. Scarves askew, hair even frizzier than usual, and scowl almost hidden by the light streaming from the window behind her, she gave a flap of the hand to the class's guest. Daphne, pale and drawn, sat perched in the back left corner upon the classroom's wobbliest stool. Deadpan as her expression was, Seamus could tell that she was just as unhappy to be there as Trelawney was to have her. She was meant to be in Arithmancy, he noted. Not that he'd memorised her schedule.

"Miss Greengrass," Trelawney barked.

Daphne started, her eyes wide. She obviously hadn't expected to be addressed directly. "Yes?"

"If you are going to be a member of my classroom, you are going to participate in the art of divination. Seeing as you are," she cleared her throat, "less than skilled in this particular magical field, I am going to place you with one of my most talented students. Lavender?"

It was Lavender's turn to jump in place. Judging by the scowl that settled over her features, she would rather have given up divination forever than helped Daphne get a hang of it. Still, she kept her composure as she said, "Yes, professor."

Sitting next to her at the same spindly little table, Seamus did his best to keep from grinning.

Daphne picked her way through the armchairs, stools, and poufs and alighted next to Parvati.

"Hello, Daphne," Parvati said, far more warmly than Seamus had expected. He had forgotten that the two of them came from the same social circle. Nothing she did in all of the hours they'd spent together – other than paying for Lavender's impulse purchases in Hogsmeade – pointed to her being in the upper echelons of wizarding society. Daphne, on the other hand, practically oozed old money.

"Parvati," Daphne answered. She managed a weak smile.

"Today," Trelawney went on, "we will be mastering xylomancy, or twig reading. On each of your tables you will find specially chosen refuse from Hogwarts' own grounds and a penknife, as well as a copy of Xylomancy by Selina Sapworthy. You will begin by stripping half of the bark from each twig."

Without further prompting, Lavender picked up the penknife and began hacking away at the twigs as if they had personally wronged her. Daphne sat farther back in her armchair. The purple velvet swallowed her thin form. Voice barely rising over the din of the room, she said, "I'm not sure that I'll be much help."

"Just sit there," Lavender answered without looking up from what she was doing, "and be quiet."

"Oh," said Daphne. "Okay."

Seamus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So," he said, not quite sure where to go from there. "Ehm. How did you get picked to supervise Divination?"

"I don't know that I'm doing much supervising," said Daphne, another small smile quirking the corner of her lips. "But, er, to answer your question: no one else wanted to, uh, come. No one else wanted to deal with Trelawney, rather. And of the seventh years I got to choose last."

"Too bad," said Lavender, savagely taking a huge chunk out of one of the twigs.

Parvati folded her hands primly on the table. "How's Astoria?"

"Oh," said Daphne again. She stared in the rough direction of the hem of her skirt. "She's… she's, you know, she's—she's doing well. She's doing well in her classes, at least. I think she might have a boyfriend. Tristram Bassenthwaite."

A laugh burst out of Seamus without his consent. "Tristram Bassenthwaite?"

Parvati suppressed a smile of her own. "His mother's Welsh," she explained. "And his family is from the Lakeland in Cumbria."

"Still," he said, struggling to avoid Daphne's piercing stare. "What a name."

"As far as I know, he's a very nice boy," she said. If it was true, she would be the only Greengrass openly connected to someone who wasn't a total pox-bottle. "With parents that hate him, apparently."

Another crow of laughter escaped from deep within Seamus. A few tables over, Fay Dunbar turned to look at him. It was the most fun he'd had in Divination since a mischief of rats had escaped while they were learning myomancy. Lavender shot him a glare.

"Seamus," she snapped. "Open the book and take notes on reading techniques."

"I'd rather not," he said, and did as he was told.

Almost imperceptibly, Daphne craned her neck to watch him write. He was suddenly extremely self-conscious of his lopsided scrawl. Thanks to his own stubborn nature, he'd never learned joined-up writing.

Halfway through a note on the meaning of blue smoke, he had an idea. It was terrible, honestly terrible, and could probably get him thrown in the dungeons for more than a few days. Even worse, it would set Lavender off. Neville, too. If it worked, though, it would be worth it. So he did it anyway. Larger than before, he wrote, Meet me during free period. Flitwick won't report me absent.

Daphne coughed, and it almost sounded like she'd said, "Okay."

Alberich, he wrote.

Very slightly, Daphne nodded. The rest of the class passed by in a blur. When Trelawney announced that they were permitted to leave, Daphne was off like a shot. Apparently, her Inquisitorial Squad duties didn't extend past the official end of the period. Seamus left with Lavender and Parvati.

"She's right snooty, isn't she?" said Lavender as they walked down the corridor from the Divination ladder. It occurred to Seamus that she had never been informed of the assistance the D.A. had received from one Daphne Greengrass. All she knew of her was that Daphne had been the one to take him on his death march, and that he fancied her a bit. He didn't plan on changing that.

"I like her well enough," said Parvati with a shrug. "She was never terrible when we were forced to spend time together as kids. Unlike the Head Girl, who was dreadful."

Lavender snorted. "If you say so."

"I have to piss," Seamus announced.

The two girls looked at him like he was insane. Parvati was the first to speak. "Alright, then."

He was off.

Never before had Seamus been so excited to see a statue of a nobby dwarf. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying him any attention, he stepped behind it. His heart dropped. There was no blonde solemnly waiting for him to appear. The best case was that she'd simply thought better of the meeting, and he would see her in the castle later in the day. The worst case was that someone had intercepted her, and he would see her later with another pair of black eyes, or a limp, or any one of a thousand ailments that came from a run-in with the Carrows.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, and his heart stopped. Maybe he shouldn't have skipped out on checking in with Flitwick before missing free period.

"It's me," said a soft voice.

His heart began again, beating even faster than before. Daphne slipped past him, her arm brushing his. Despite the fact that they were inside, she had both her robes and her cloak on. In one fluid movement, she set down on the floor. One arm raised to him, she said, "I stopped by the dungeon on the way here to tell Theo I would be late for Dark Arts. Sit."

Seamus sat.

"This isn't a good idea," she said, wrapping her arms around her body. "It's also very cold."

"It's almost spring." He cursed the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He should've put an arm around her shoulders, not brushed off the comment. "Ehm. I mean…"

Daphne shifted closer to him. Her long eyelashes obscured the brilliant green of her eyes. "Did you stun Blaise?"

"Ehm," Seamus said again. The way she said it, it almost sounded like she wanted him to have done it. He considered for a moment lying, but settled on, "Neville."

A tiny smile softened her expression. "Next time."

Usually, when a beautiful girl was this close to him, he wouldn't have hesitated in making a move. He'd gotten in trouble more than once for snogging when he shouldn't have. For Christ's sake, his mother had made him sleep at his aunt's house for a week when she caught him smuggling a Muggle girl into his bedroom. When it came to mots, he was not a shy boy. But something about Daphne had him frozen. Every place their bodies touched seemed to be generating an electric current, but he couldn't bring himself to increase the contact. Awkwardly, he asked, "He told you about that, then?"

"Oh, yeah," she said. "He raged into the Divination classroom and dragged me back to the common room. Pansy tried to ask him what was wrong, but he has… a distaste for her. He put up with her while Draco was around, for his sake, but as a person he finds her irritating. I think if it were up to him, there just wouldn't be a Head Girl." She paused for a moment. "I'm getting off-topic."

"I don't mind."

"Thanks," she said with another smile. Her eyes remained cast down. "It took a while for him to admit to what happened. Or, what he thought happened. He was so embarrassed I could have sworn I saw him blushing. Then he started interrogating me about why we were together. I told him you were trying to intimidate me into giving you secrets about the Inquisitorial Squad's plans." She laughed drily. "Somehow, he believed it. I'm not sure what secrets we're keeping, but it worked."

There was silence between them.

Finally, in a small voice, she said, "Seamus?"

"Daphne," he answered. Her name felt funny in his mouth. For all the times he thought it, he rarely said it aloud.

"Can I ask you something?"

The hair on the back of his neck stood up when her eyes met his. There was a thin film of tears on them, as always, but the line between her eyebrows was nowhere to be found. He never gave her a chance to ask her question. Rather, before he lost his nerve again, he pulled her against him and kissed her. In a world where witches and wizards and dragons existed, describing something as 'magical' lost a bit of its spark. But he could think of no better way to describe the feeling of her lips on his. He wasn't sure if it was the build-up, or the forbidden nature, or maybe just the fact that it was her, but it felt like no kissing he'd ever done before.

Tangled in a mess of limbs and high emotions, they stayed there for far longer than free period.