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Assistant: Title: A Familiar's Silent Accord
        Author: xWolfx93 xWolfx93 
        Chapter: 9/23 
        Summary: In a twisted bargain for her family’s dark ambitions, Daphne Greengrass is assigned to get close enough to Harry Potter to influence him. It’s a mission she despises—until unsettling truths and conflicted feelings threaten to shatter the cold façade she’s clung to her entire life. [Harry x Daphne] [Daphne has a magical familiar]
        Contents: Chapter 9: Slytherin Wiles and Gryffindor Smiles
    

    


  

  
  
    
    Professor McGonagall's voice carried through the Transfiguration classroom, crisp and commanding as she demonstrated the intricate wand movements required to turn a teapot into a tortoise. The flick of her wand was effortless, and in an instant, the delicate porcelain transformed into a slow-blinking tortoise, its patterned shell retaining faint floral details. The class murmured in appreciation, but Daphne barely paid attention. She sat with her back straight, quill poised between her fingers, though her mind was only half-engaged with the lesson. Her focus lay elsewhere—on the boy sitting alone at the front.
  Potter.
She absently twirled her quill, watching the Gryffindor hero from beneath her lashes. It was an odd sight, really. Granger and Weasley occupied the table beside him, their trio inconveniently split by the classroom's paired seating arrangement. Weasley, as always, had claimed Granger first, leaving Potter to sit alone, glancing around the room with an expression caught somewhere between mild irritation and resignation.Just then, McGonagall's voice rang through the classroom. "For this lesson, you will be working in pairs," she announced, her keen eyes scanning the room. "Transfiguration is a precise and demanding subject, and learning to collaborate is just as important as mastering the spells themselves. Choose your partners quickly."
  This is it. This is my moment.
Daphne inhaled lightly, schooling her expression into careful neutrality before turning to Tracey. Her lips pressed together, not quite an apology, but an acknowledgment—of what, she wasn't entirely sure. Guilt? Nerves? Or simply the calculation of seizing an opportunity? "Tracey—""Oh, I know." Tracey smirked before she could even finish. With a subtle flick of her wand beneath the table, she muttered a spell. The slight, yet unmistakable sensation of a Push-Up Charm took hold, accentuating Daphne's figure in a way that was neither necessary nor appreciated.Daphne shot her a withering glare. "Really?"Tracey grinned mischievously, feigning innocence. "Just giving you an edge."Before she could attempt something more ridiculous—like undoing the top button of her blouse—Daphne snatched up her books, stood swiftly, and strode towards Potter before her nerves could catch up with her. Jingles lifted his head lazily from his perch on her desk and flicked his tail before slipping off to follow her, as if overseeing her mission personally.Potter looked up as she approached, his green eyes widening slightly in surprise. He clearly hadn't expected her. A flicker of suspicion crossed his face—expected, of course. She wasn't in the habit of speaking to him, nor he to her.She offered a carefully measured smile. Not too sweet, not too cold. "Potter. Have you got a partner yet?"He hesitated, glancing past her shoulder towards Tracey before meeting her gaze again. "Er—why aren't you working with Davis?"Daphne had anticipated this. Her mind whirred for the perfect response, discarding anything that might seem too rehearsed. "Tracey's interested in partnering with Crabbe," she said smoothly, adjusting the grip on her book. "Something about finding his strength absolutely irresistible in a 'forbidden romance' kind of way. Honestly, I think she's just looking for an excuse to prove that even Crabbe has some hidden depths—tragic, really."Potter's face twisted into a look of sheer horror. "Davis? And Crabbe?"Daphne allowed herself a small smirk. "I know. Unfortunate, isn't it?"He exhaled, glancing around the room and seeming to realise that the only remaining option was, in fact, her. With a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Looks like we're partners, then.""Excellent," she said lightly, sliding into the seat beside him.Jingles, ever the opportunist, leapt gracefully onto the table, earning a startled glance from Potter. His brow furrowed slightly as he watched the cat, wariness flickering in his green eyes. But when Jingles flicked his tail and rubbed against his arm, Potter hesitated, then let out a quiet chuckle, a hint of amusement breaking through his initial surprise."Well, that's rare," Daphne murmured, feigning mild interest."What is?""He usually hates boys."Potter blinked at the cat, then at her. "Good to know." He tentatively reached out, scratching Jingles behind the ears. The traitorous animal purred louder, clearly deciding Potter was tolerable. Ridiculous. But she supposed it worked in her favour. If Jingles trusted her proximity to Potter, then so would Potter himself.They began working on the teapot, following McGonagall's instructions. Daphne took the lead, leaning in slightly closer than necessary as she demonstrated the wand movements. "See? A smooth, precise flick," she murmured, her voice light, almost teasing. Potter watched intently, his brow furrowing in concentration."You make it look easy," he admitted.She smirked, tilting her head. "Maybe it is. Or maybe you just need the right motivation." Her fingers lingered near his as she adjusted his grip on his wand, the briefest brush of contact sparking something unspoken between them.Potter swallowed, nodding. "Alright, let's see if I can manage it."Daphne pulled back just slightly, though not before letting her gaze linger on him a moment longer than necessary. He wasn't hopeless—just unfocused, his natural instincts favouring action over theory. Typical Gryffindor.Throughout the lesson, she was keenly aware of Granger and Weasley's occasional glances in their direction. Suspicious, cautious. As if I'd hex their precious Boy Who Lived in the middle of class.By the end of the period, their tortoise sat neatly on the desk, its shell still carrying a faint porcelain sheen. A success, considering many others had only managed to transfigure theirs halfway, leaving unfortunate teapots with tiny, flailing tortoise legs."Five points to Slytherin for Miss Greengrass, and five points to Gryffindor for Mr. Potter," McGonagall declared, her sharp eyes scanning the classroom before settling firmly on them. "For exemplary teamwork and successfully completing the transfiguration." Her gaze flickered briefly to Daphne, as if reassessing something about her, before she gave Potter an approving nod.As the class packed up, Potter turned to her, rubbing the back of his neck. "Er—thanks for the help. I know I didn't do much." He let out a small chuckle, adding, "If I could, I'd give you my five points."Daphne tilted her head, offering a barely-there smile. "You shouldn't sell yourself short. You have potential—you just need to apply yourself more." She paused, considering her next move. Then, with calculated ease, she added, "Perhaps we could study together sometime. The library?"Potter blinked, clearly caught off-guard, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. Before he could answer, Granger and Weasley swooped in, Granger's hand on his arm, Weasley shooting her a glare."Come on, Harry," Weasley muttered, steering him away with clear urgency.Daphne exhaled, her expression carefully neutral as she watched them leave. Well, that could have gone better. A flicker of amusement curled at the edges of her lips—Weasley and Granger had all the subtlety of a bludger, practically dragging Potter away as if she'd cursed him mid-lesson. It was almost amusing, really.Tracey sidled up to her, arms crossed. "Crabbe was even more useless than I thought." Then, with a smirk, she asked, "So? How did it go with Potter?"Daphne considered the question, then replied smoothly, "Well enough. Though Granger and Weasley seem less than thrilled."Tracey laughed. "No surprise there. Just take it slow."Daphne hummed in agreement. Yes. Slow and subtle. That was how she played the game.The crisp autumn air carried the distant roar of the crowd as Daphne, Tracey, and Pansy made their way toward the Quidditch pitch. The first match of the season—Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw—had drawn nearly the entire school outside. The banners of red and blue flapped in the wind, and the energy in the air was palpable, as students hurried past them in groups, eager to find the best seats.Tracey, ever the Quidditch enthusiast, was practically bouncing in excitement, her brown eyes bright as she talked animatedly about the teams' chances. Daphne suspected that her enthusiasm had little to do with the sport itself and more to do with the fact that it was mostly played by attractive older boys. It would certainly explain why she never seemed to care about the finer points of strategy but always knew exactly which players were considered the most desirable. "I still think Gryffindor has the advantage," she mused. "Potter's the best Seeker in the school, even if he is a Gryffindor."Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It's just a bunch of idiots on broomsticks flying in circles." She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, making it abundantly clear that she had no real interest in the sport. "I'm only going because there's nothing better to do."Tracey, however, wasn't about to let that slide. "Oh, come on, Pansy, at least appreciate the skill involved. And don't pretend you don't enjoy watching."Pansy snorted. "If I wanted to watch something spin in circles, I'd stare at a quaffle." Then her expression shifted slightly, a knowing smirk forming. "Besides, if we're talking about skill, I'd say Malfoy is still the better Seeker."Tracey's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" she scoffed. "Potter is leagues ahead of Malfoy."Pansy folded her arms. "Malfoy is just as good. He's faster.""He's faster because his father bought the entire team top-of-the-line brooms," Tracey countered. "Not because he's the better Seeker. He's decent, sure, but let's be real—his biggest contribution to the team was those brooms."Daphne smirked slightly, watching as the debate escalated. Pansy huffed, clearly unwilling to admit defeat, while Tracey looked thoroughly pleased with herself."Well, at least Malfoy isn't afraid of Dementors like Potter is," Pansy shot back.Tracey rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you act like Malfoy would have handled them any better. Just because Potter doesn't like Dementors doesn't mean Malfoy is suddenly the superior Seeker."Daphne decided to intervene before they started hexing each other. "Honestly, both of you are ridiculous," she said smoothly. "Malfoy isn't bad, but let's not pretend he's top player material. Potter, for all his flaws, wins matches."Pansy let out an exaggerated sigh, but Tracey grinned in victory as they continued toward the pitch.Daphne, however, had a very particular reason for attending.
  I won't openly cheer for Potter, of course. That would be ridiculous.
She kept her expression neutral, glancing toward the pitch, taking in the red-and-gold-clad Gryffindors who were already chanting loudly. She had no real love for Quidditch, but Potter did. And if there was one undeniable fact about boys, it was that they appreciated attention—especially from those who pretended not to care. She would make sure he saw her, and later, when the opportunity arose, she'd feign interest. It was cliché, but effective.They had only made it halfway when an all-too-familiar voice reached them."Oh! Greengrass, Davis, Parkinson. Off to the match?" Hermione Granger stood ahead of them, holding an oversized orange cat in her arms. His fur looked impossibly thick and wild, and his squashed face gave him a permanently disgruntled expression.Ron Weasley stood beside her, his arms crossed, his mouth already twisted in displeasure. "Didn't think Slytherins cared about proper sports."Daphne resisted the urge to sigh. "Obviously," she said coolly, eyes flicking between the two Gryffindors with mild disinterest.Pansy folded her arms, looking as though she dearly wanted to snap at Weasley, but she knew better. Tracey, ever the diplomat, simply smiled in her usual carefree way, her amusement evident as she watched the interaction unfold.Granger, undeterred, set her cat down. "This is Crookshanks," she said, adjusting her grip on her bag. "I got him over the summer. He's part Kneazle. Very intelligent."Daphne barely spared the animal a glance—until Jingles, who had been weaving between her legs as they walked, suddenly stopped. She arched an eyebrow, mildly surprised at his sudden stillness. It wasn't often that something managed to capture his full attention, and yet here he was, standing frozen, tail flicking as he locked eyes with the massive orange beast before them. Oh, this should be interesting. Crookshanks, to his credit, seemed equally fixated on Jingles.The silence stretched between them for a moment before the inevitable happened.A low hiss escaped Crookshanks, his fur bristling as he arched his back. Jingles responded in kind, tail lashing, his ears flattening in unmistakable challenge. The tension between the two was almost comical—two feline rulers sizing each other up, neither willing to back down. Jingles' tail lashed like a whip, his body low and poised as if daring Crookshanks to make the first move. Crookshanks, in turn, spread his paws wide, claws barely sheathed, his thick fur standing on end like a lion ready to defend his territory. The air between them felt charged, an invisible battle of dominance playing out in slow, deliberate movements.Tracey's eyebrows lifted, and even Pansy looked vaguely amused, as if half-expecting the duel to end in dramatic feline carnage."Looks like they don't like each other," Tracey observed, stifling a laugh.Before their staring contest could escalate into an all-out war, Daphne bent down and scooped Jingles into her arms, her fingers brushing over his sleek black fur. He let out a final growl, glaring over her shoulder at Crookshanks. At the same time, Granger swiftly retrieved her cat, holding him close to her chest. Crookshanks wriggled in protest before settling, still eyeing Jingles with distrust."Well," Daphne said, adjusting Jingles as he continued to glare at the offending feline. "I suppose we'd best keep them apart. Can't have them fighting for dominance in the middle of the grounds."Granger sighed, stroking Crookshanks' fur to calm him. "Yes, that's probably for the best. Enjoy the match."Daphne gave a graceful nod. "You as well."Weasley only grunted in response, shooting them a glare before turning away. Charming as ever.With that, Daphne turned on her heel and walked past them, Tracey and Pansy following close behind. Only once they were out of earshot did she lower her voice and glance down at Jingles, who was still vibrating with barely restrained irritation."There's no need for you to establish your dominance," she murmured to him. "You are most certainly the alpha male around here."Jingles let out a deep, satisfied purr, rubbing his head against her arm in clear agreement.Tracey chuckled, reaching over to scratch behind Jingles' ears. "Oh, no doubt about that. The true king of Hogwarts has spoken."Pansy smirked, shaking her head. "Honestly, Daphne, you spoil that cat more than you spoil yourself."Daphne raised a delicate eyebrow. "He's earned it. Unlike some people."Tracey laughed outright at that, and even Pansy couldn't suppress an amused smile as they continued toward the pitch.
  Slow and steady, Jingles. We both have our games to play.
The days passed quickly, each one bringing Daphne closer to the inevitable scrutiny of her housemates. She had known from the start that getting close to Potter would invite whispers and sharp glances in Slytherin, but the reality of it was already beginning to creep in. It wasn't that she cared about their opinions—at least, that's what she told herself—but she was no fool. Slytherins thrived on power plays, and if she wasn't careful, associating with Potter could make her look weak, foolish, or worst of all, disloyal. She was playing a delicate game, and she needed to ensure she was the one controlling the narrative. Pansy had wasted no time questioning her about working with him in Transfiguration.It was evening, and with the privacy of their dormitory ensuring no eavesdroppers, Daphne let out a quiet huff, her fingers lazily running through Jingles' fur. She thought back to how inquisitive Pansy had already been about her working with Potter in Transfiguration."Really, Daphne? Potter?" Pansy had asked, arms folded, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and suspicion.Daphne had deflected with ease, her voice smooth as silk. "I had no other choice. Tracey wanted to work with Crabbe."Tracey, standing nearby, had sighed dramatically but played along, rolling her eyes. "Yes, obviously. My deep and overwhelming admiration for Vincent Crabbe knows no bounds."It was a lie that Tracey despised, but she endured it for Daphne's sake. A true best friend. She had taken the fall for her, shielding her from suspicion and protecting her secret. But even with Tracey's help, Daphne knew that once she pushed further—once she actually got close to Potter—there would be no easy deflections. The rumours would start. The judgment would follow.And she wasn't ready for that. Not yet.Unfortunately, her progress had stalled. Beyond their forced partnership in Transfiguration, she hadn't found another opportunity to interact with Potter. No other class had provided a chance to work with him, and she couldn't exactly approach him out of nowhere without raising suspicion.She needed another way.Daphne sighed, shifting slightly as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through Jingles' fur. "Potter never even responded to my offer to study together," she muttered, glancing toward Tracey for guidance. "Not a word. What do you think? Does he hate me, or did I fail already?"Tracey, perched on the other side of the room, arched a brow, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, please. Boys at this age are utterly clueless. He probably didn't even realize it was an invitation." She stretched her arms lazily before shooting Daphne an amused look. "So ask him again. Maybe he forgot. Or maybe he's just being his usual oblivious self. Either way, I highly doubt you failed already. If anyone can pull off this weird little mission of yours, it's you."Daphne scoffed, giving her an incredulous look. "I can't just approach him in public. That would be far too clingy. Do you want me to destroy my reputation instantly?"Jingles let out a small, approving chirp, clearly in agreement with her stance. Tracey sighed dramatically, throwing herself back against the pillows. "Fine, fine. No desperate chasing after the Boy Who Lived. But," she continued, propping herself up on her elbows, "Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. Could be neutral ground. Older students always talk about how great it is for dates—especially this little café."Daphne, sprawled across her bed with Jingles curled at her side, absently stroked his sleek fur. He purred softly, his blue eyes half-lidded in contentment. "And Potter will just be conveniently wandering about alone, will he?" she said dryly. "Granger and Weasley are practically glued to him."Tracey hummed thoughtfully, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "Maybe… maybe I can get Granger and Weasley to go on a date and leave Potter."Daphne's hand froze mid-stroke. Her entire body stiffened, as if Tracey had just suggested romancing the giant squid. She turned her head in slow, deliberate horror, her nose wrinkling, lips curling like she had just smelled something foul. "One: That's absolutely revolting. Two: How, exactly, would you get those two to date? You are not Cupid."Jingles, as if echoing her sentiments, let out a low, displeased chirp before flicking his tail over his nose, unimpressed.Tracey huffed, lifting her chin. "I could make anyone date if I wanted to."Daphne let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. "Of course you could. My apologies, great matchmaker."Tracey shot her a playful glare but soon relented, flopping backward onto her own bed. "Alright, fine. Since we're not working on 'Mission: Seduce the Boy Who Lived,' what are we doing instead?"Daphne considered for a moment, running her fingers idly through Jingles' fur. "Shopping, obviously. We need to restock on our potions ingredients. And I want to stop by Madam Puddifoot's—not for a date, before you say anything—but because I heard they have the best tea."Tracey smirked. "Sure, sure. Tea. Not an excuse to scope out the poor souls on dreadful, awkward first dates?"Daphne gave her a pointed look, but there was no real heat behind it. "And Honeydukes, of course."Jingles perked up at that, his ears twitching. He knew that word. Honeydukes. More specifically, the special enchanted pet treats they sold there. Unlike regular sweets, these were charmed so that even animals—who normally couldn't taste sugar—could enjoy the flavor. They were a luxury, expensive enough that most wouldn't bother, but Jingles only deserved the best, and Daphne's allowance was more than enough to indulge him.Daphne smiled, scratching under his chin as his tail flicked in eager anticipation. "Yes, yes. You'll get your treats too. Not just any treats—only the best."Tracey sighed contentedly. "Alright, sounds like a proper girls' day then. No meddling, no matchmaking, and no Gryffindors."Daphne smirked. "For once, we agree."Jingles gave an approving stretch, clearly in favor of any plan that involved attention, treats, and no unnecessary Gryffindor interference. Tracey chuckled, nudging Daphne. "Honestly, I think he's the real mastermind here. We're just his loyal subjects."Daphne smirked, scratching Jingles behind the ears. "Obviously. And as his most devoted follower, I demand tribute in the form of Honeydukes' finest."Jingles let out a pleased trill, as if endorsing the idea, making both girls laugh. As far as he was concerned, that was the only plan worth having.The crisp autumn morning was alive with excitement as students gathered for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Wrapped in their warm cloaks, Daphne, Tracey, Pansy, and Millicent made their way through the bustling entrance hall, ready to enjoy the day ahead. Just before they left, Astoria hurried up to Daphne, a small parchment clutched in her hand."I need a few things," Astoria said, pressing the list into her sister's palm.Daphne arched an elegant brow, glancing at the neatly written requests. "I am not your errand girl, Astoria," she drawled, tucking the parchment into her pocket nonetheless.Astoria smirked, knowing full well that despite her protests, Daphne would get everything she needed. "Of course not. But you're my dear, responsible older sister, aren't you?"Daphne sighed, waving her off. "Fine. But only because I don't want to hear you whining about it later."With that, the four older Slytherin girls stepped outside, the cold morning air nipping at their cheeks. Filch stood at the entrance, collecting permission slips with his usual scowl. As they approached, Daphne's attention was drawn to a conversation happening just a few feet away.Potter was speaking with Professor McGonagall, his tone firm but frustrated. As they passed, Daphne caught part of his words."…Please, Professor. Can't you just sign it?"McGonagall, arms crossed over her tartan robes, shook her head. "I'm sorry, Potter. The rules are clear—your guardian must sign your permission slip. I cannot make exceptions."Daphne slowed slightly, glancing at Potter from the corner of her eye. His guardian? She frowned, realisation dawning that she had no idea who Potter even lived with. Who even is his family? She knew the Potters were all gone. No parents, no siblings. His godfather, Sirius Black, was a known criminal, locked away in Azkaban. So who was looking after him?Potter's shoulders slumped as McGonagall walked away, and his gaze shifted to Granger and Weasley, who were already watching him with sympathy. So, he can't go to Hogsmeade… That must be miserable for him.She stole one last glance at him before handing over her slip to Filch, pushing the thought away as they made their way to the carriages. The four girls climbed into one, Jingles leaping in gracefully behind them, curling up beside Daphne. Pansy and Millicent immediately launched into a discussion about what they wanted to do first—Pansy was eager to stop by Gladrags for new stockings, while Millicent was far more interested in Honeydukes.Daphne, however, remained silent, lost in thought. Hogsmeade is out for Potter. But that presents an opportunity… If she stayed behind next time, she might have the perfect chance to approach him—alone, without Granger and Weasley clinging to him like guard dogs. No public interactions, no curious eyes from their classmates. Just the two of them.She exhaled softly, her gaze drifting to Tracey, who had been watching her in quiet amusement. No doubt, Tracey was already working through possible solutions herself, storing them away for discussion later in the privacy of their dormitory.The carriage rattled to a stop, signalling their arrival. As they stepped out onto the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, the girls were immediately swept into the lively atmosphere. The crisp air carried the scent of freshly baked goods, and groups of students bustled about, eagerly exploring the village. Jingles, evidently excited by the new surroundings, leapt from Daphne's arms and prowled forward, his tail flicking as he took in the sights."I say we start with Gladrags," Pansy declared, looping her arm through Daphne's.Tracey stretched, adjusting her scarf. "I vote Honeydukes first. I need something sweet after that long ride."Millicent, surprisingly, sided with Pansy. "We should get shopping done first. The best things always sell out fast."Daphne, barely listening, was already scanning the streets, taking in everything. The village was alive with energy—students darting between shops, vendors calling out their latest wares, and a group of third-years eagerly huddled around Zonko's, laughing as one of them showed off a Nose-Biting Teacup. Further down the road, an elderly witch struggled with an overfilled basket of bread from the local bakery, while a pair of younger Hogwarts students trailed behind her, balancing steaming cups of hot chocolate. The festive, bustling atmosphere was almost enough to distract Daphne from her own thoughts—but not quite.Jingles was darting between the legs of students, his presence causing occasional yelps and startled jumps. A Ravenclaw girl nearly tripped over him as he dashed toward the window of Honeydukes, pressing his paws against the glass to admire the display of confections."Jingles," Daphne sighed, scooping him up before he could slip inside the shop on his own. "You are a menace."Jingles let out a chirp of protest, but he settled in her arms, his tail flicking as if plotting his next bit of mischief.They spent the next hour browsing the shops—Pansy fussed over fabric selections at Gladrags, Millicent weighed her options between different chocolates at Honeydukes, and Tracey insisted on dragging them to Scrivenshaft's for a new set of quills. Jingles, of course, made his presence known in every store, swiping at quills, batting at spools of thread, and very nearly knocking over an entire display of Sugar Quills before Daphne caught him just in time."You are going to get us banned," she muttered, adjusting him on her hip as he purred smugly.By the time they reached The Three Broomsticks, the girls were ready to sit and enjoy a warm drink. The pub was lively, filled with students and some familiar faces from Hogwarts. Daphne sipped her butterbeer thoughtfully, still turning over the idea of staying behind next time. It was risky, yes, but if executed well, it could work."Alright," Tracey said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Now that we've done our shopping, what's next?"Daphne smirked. "Well, I do have a little sister to spoil." She retrieved Astoria's list from her pocket, scanning the items with mild amusement. "Looks like I need to stop by Tomes and Scrolls."Pansy groaned. "Ugh, book shopping? Must we?"Daphne merely smirked, standing from her seat. "Feel free to wait here."Tracey shot her a knowing look but said nothing as they all finished their drinks and headed back into the village. Jingles, now perched lazily on Daphne's shoulder, flicked his tail, fully content with his adventure thus far.As they wandered through the last few shops, Daphne found herself stopping outside the window of Madam Puddifoot's, watching as a pair of fifth-years awkwardly navigated their date. She imagined for a brief moment what it would be like to sit across from Potter there—laughable, really. The idea of him in such a frilly, overly romantic setting was absurd. Not to mention revolting. She could barely tolerate the thought of spending time with him for her father's mission, let alone in such an insipid, lovey-dovey atmosphere. No, she needed to be calculating, not repulsed. There was a plan to execute, and letting her personal disgust interfere would be reckless.With her shopping complete, she turned back to her friends, who were already debating whether to head back to Hogwarts or squeeze in one last stop at Zonko's. As the group made their way through the bustling village, Daphne's mind remained divided between enjoying Hogsmeade and plotting her next move. If she played this right, next time, Potter wouldn't have anyone watching his back.Care of Magical Creatures had, so far, been a complete disappointment. Daphne had only taken the class because Potter was in it, and it had proven to be just as unproductive as she had feared. Snape had even warned her that it would be a waste of time, and he had, as usual, been right. She had learned absolutely nothing worthwhile, and worse—there had been no opportunities to partner up with Potter.The only positive development was that after Transfiguration, Potter had looked at her a couple of times. She, of course, pretended not to notice. Tracey had recommended playing "hard to get," which suited her perfectly—she had no desire to be "gotten" by Potter in the first place.At least today, she wouldn't have to worry about Jingles causing trouble. Hagrid had told her not to bring him along, likely fearing he would interfere with whatever creature they were about to deal with. Daphne had allowed Jingles to roam freely through Hogwarts instead, confident that he was enjoying himself somewhere, charming his way into the company of the castle's many lady cats. Lucky him.When the lesson began, Hagrid introduced them to Hippogriffs. The creatures were certainly impressive, their fierce orange eyes gleaming as they ruffled their massive wings. But, predictably, it was another group lesson—groups of three. And, predictably, Potter stuck with Granger and Weasley.Daphne folded her arms, letting out a silent sigh as she listened half-heartedly to Hagrid's instructions. The only thing that snapped her out of her boredom was the moment when Hagrid called on Potter to demonstrate how to approach a Hippogriff—Buckbeak, if she caught the name correctly. Daphne's brow twitched as she watched. Was this really safe? She doubted Hagrid had much sense of caution, and while Potter wasn't completely useless, this still seemed reckless.Yet, somehow, it worked. Potter bowed. The Hippogriff bowed back. And then, to Daphne's surprise, Hagrid actually let him ride the creature.Is that really necessary? she thought, watching as Buckbeak launched into the sky, carrying Potter high above the class. She had to admit, the sight was impressive—the way the Hippogriff soared against the bright blue sky, Potter gripping onto its feathers, wind whipping through his ridiculous hair. But was it wise? Absolutely not.She briefly wondered what would happen if Potter fell. It was an amusing thought—tragic, of course, but amusing nonetheless. Yet, despite her distaste, she found herself watching as he manoeuvred through the air, seemingly at ease. The Hippogriff circled once before descending, landing gracefully on the ground. Potter looked exhilarated as he dismounted, still grinning like a fool.Daphne rolled her eyes. Of course, he'd enjoy it.But just as she was about to mentally dismiss the whole event as another Gryffindor stunt, Malfoy lost his temper.He stalked forward, sneering as usual, making some snide remark about how it was only impressive because Potter had somehow managed not to fall off. Then, before anyone could stop him, he marched straight up to Buckbeak without any of the proper deference.Daphne tensed. Idiot.The Hippogriff let out a warning screech, but Malfoy, either too arrogant or too stupid to stop, kept going. And then, in an instant, Buckbeak reared up and lashed out.Malfoy barely stumbled back in time. Buckbeak's talons slashed through the air, so close that they tore the sleeve of his robes, leaving thin strands of fabric fluttering. The force of the near-miss sent a gust of wind past his face, and for a split second, sheer panic flashed across his features. The creature's talons caught him, but only just—a thin gash appeared on his arm, nothing more.But, of course, Malfoy had to make a scene.He yelped dramatically, clutching his arm as if it had been severed completely. "I—my father will hear about this!" he wailed, his voice rising. "This beast—Hagrid—you're finished! I'll have your job for this! You've put students in danger!"Daphne rolled her eyes. This is my opportunity.Stepping forward, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Malfoy, stop acting like a complete cry baby."Malfoy froze mid-rant, his pale face turning toward her in disbelief.She arched a brow. "Honestly, always hiding behind your father. You ignored the professor's instructions and got scratched. That's your fault."The entire class went silent.Tracey, standing just behind her, let out a quiet snicker. Even the Hippogriff, still ruffled from Malfoy's arrogance, seemed to settle down, as if the sheer absurdity of Malfoy being called out had defused the situation.Malfoy looked so stunned that he momentarily forgot his "near-fatal" injury. His expression flickered between outrage and disbelief, as if his brain was struggling to process the sheer audacity of Daphne's words. His grip on his supposedly mangled arm loosened slightly, and for a moment, it seemed like he'd completely lost track of his own performance. The exaggerated grimace he'd worn seconds before melted into a vacant gape, and by the time he remembered to clutch at his wound again, the effect was entirely ruined. His mouth opened, but for once, no words came out.Hagrid, seizing the moment, cleared his throat. "Right, class dismissed! I'll take Malfoy to the Hospital Wing."Malfoy was still speechless as he was ushered away, though his expression promised retribution later.Tracey, now grinning widely, clapped Daphne on the back as they turned toward the castle. "That was brilliant, Daph. Malfoy's face—I swear, he nearly forgot to keep pretending he was dying."Daphne allowed a small smirk. Of course, it was brilliant.As they walked up the path, she cast a glance toward Potter. He was still watching her, his green eyes slightly narrowed, as if trying to make sense of what had just happened. She, of course, pretended not to notice, tilting her chin up and shifting her attention elsewhere.Satisfied, she let the praise from her friends wash over her as they made their way back to the castle. One step closer. Potter may not have realised it yet, but today had worked in her favour.The second Hogsmeade weekend was fast approaching, and this time, Daphne had a plan.She would stay behind. If Potter asked, she'd simply say she wanted to study. She had a reputation as one of the top students in their year—no one would question it, least of all him. Tracey would handle Pansy and Millicent, ensuring they wouldn't pry too much into her absence. Everything had been carefully rehearsed, every word, every excuse. Now, she just had to execute it flawlessly.Before setting off, she cast the subtle push-up charm, feeling the familiar, unwelcome lift. As much as she despised the idea, she couldn't deny its effectiveness. To complete the look, she left the top button of her blouse undone, just enough to hint at something without being too obvious. If there was one thing she knew about boys, it was that distractions worked in her favour—and Potter, for all his supposed heroics, was still just a boy. She rolled her shoulders back slightly, testing the effect in the mirror. Utterly ridiculous, she thought, but she wasn't doing this for herself.This was a mission. A game. And she intended to get it over with as soon as humanly possible.The faster she became Potter's girlfriend, the faster she would receive her father's instructions on what, exactly, she was meant to influence him toward. And then, the second she had fulfilled her duty, she could dump him and be done with this charade. Move on with her life. No more forced smiles, no more sweet voices, no more suffering through awkward moments with Potter.Maybe then she could finally focus on finding someone worth her time—one of the older, proper pureblood boys. Someone who wasn't constantly the centre of some ridiculous life-threatening disaster. Someone who actually belonged in their world, instead of some half-blood embarrassment parading around as the Boy Who Lived.Her stomach twisted in distaste at the thought of having to play girlfriend to Potter of all people, but she forced the feeling down. It didn't matter how repulsive she found the idea. The sooner she won him over, the sooner this nightmare would be over.Once the rest of the students had set off for the village, Daphne sat in the common room, waiting for the coast to clear. The room was silent now, save for the crackling of the fire. Jingles stretched lazily beside her, blinking up at her with his deep blue eyes, tail flicking in anticipation. She leaned down, running her fingers through his soft fur. "Find him," she whispered.Jingles let out a soft chirp, then leapt off her lap, nose to the ground, sniffing delicately as he padded toward the exit of the common room. Daphne followed silently, her steps light against the stone floor. Unsurprisingly, Potter wasn't lurking in the dungeons.However, just as she reached the dungeon exit, she found herself face-to-face with Astoria and a few of her new first-year friends. The younger girls halted mid-step, Astoria's soft hazel eyes locking onto her immediately."Daphne?" Astoria tilted her head. "Why are you still here? The carriages left ages ago."Daphne gave her most effortless, indifferent smile. "I didn't feel like going this time. Figured I'd get some extra studying in."Astoria narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly suspicious. "You? Skipping Hogsmeade to study?"Daphne arched a brow. "I am a top student, you know. Being the best requires effort."Astoria hummed, unconvinced, but after a brief moment, she simply shrugged. "If you say so. Don't waste your whole childhood studying, though." Then, with a sly smile, her gaze flickered down to Daphne's slightly open blouse. "And do try not to study too hard, big sister. Wouldn't want all that extra effort to go to waste." Her voice was light, teasing, but the implication was clear.Daphne blinked. That's unexpected. A brief flicker of irritation passed through her—Astoria's teasing was a little too on the mark for her liking. But she quickly masked it, forcing an easy smirk. Let her sister think what she wanted. As long as she didn't pry, it didn't matter. Astoria, carefree as always, had never been one to prioritise academics over enjoyment. Still, it was strange to hear her say something like that to her. Just focus on the plan.Before she could formulate a response, Astoria and her little entourage turned and disappeared back into the dungeons.Jingles flicked his tail and meowed softly, reminding her of their task. She refocused, nodding at him to continue the search.They wove through the castle, past empty corridors and the occasional wandering first-year, until Jingles suddenly quickened his pace. Daphne followed, her heart beating just a little faster. Finally, she spotted him.Potter stood by a tall window, his back partially turned to her, lost in thought. The grey light of the overcast afternoon cast soft shadows across his face. He looked… preoccupied.Perfect.She smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear, adjusted her posture ever so slightly, and approached, her steps light, deliberate."Hi, Harry."Potter turned sharply, blinking as if pulled from a trance. His green eyes landed on her, flickering with confusion. "Greengrass?" His brow furrowed slightly. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"She gave him a small, almost shy smile. "I wanted to use the time to study. Being top of the class isn't exactly easy." She shifted her weight slightly, tilting her head just enough for her hair to brush over her shoulder. "I was heading to the library, actually. Thought I'd brush up on Transfiguration." Her voice turned just a touch softer, more hesitant. "You never did reply to my offer to study together."Potter's face coloured faintly. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. "Oh—yeah. Sorry about that. I just… haven't had much time." He hesitated, as if debating saying more, then mumbled, "There's been… stuff going on."Daphne watched him carefully. He looked troubled, lost in thought again. He wasn't telling her everything—of course he wasn't—but that was fine. She didn't need to know what was bothering him. She just needed to be a distraction from it.She took a step closer, keeping her voice light, casual. "Well… do you have time now?" She gestured slightly to the empty corridor. "The castle is practically deserted, apart from the first and second years. We could go to the library. It might take your mind off whatever's bothering you."Her tone was sweet, coaxing, a little playful—but not too much. Subtlety was key. She adjusted her posture slightly again, shifting her shoulders back just enough to emphasise the effect of the charm, letting the faintest hint of cleavage show as she tilted her head. It was calculated but effortless, a move she despised having to employ—but she couldn't deny that it was likely the most effective way to hold Potter's attention.Potter hesitated again. She could see it in his face—the wariness, the scepticism. He wasn't stupid. He had his doubts about Slytherins, thanks to Weasley and Hagrid's constant warnings. But so far, she had only been nice to him. Helpful, even. And really, what reason did she have to trick him?Before he could decide, Jingles trotted forward, weaving between Potter's legs before hopping onto the nearby windowsill. He sat down primly and let out a slow, drawn-out purr.Potter glanced at him, a small flicker of amusement crossing his face. "Does he always do that?"Daphne smiled, reaching out to scratch behind Jingles' ears. "He likes you."Jingles leaned into her touch, then flicked his tail at Potter, as if waiting for a response.Potter hesitated a second longer, then exhaled. "Alright. I guess studying couldn't hurt."Daphne's smile widened just a fraction, though she kept it soft, natural. "Great."She turned smoothly and started toward the library, Jingles hopping down to trot alongside them. One step closer. Slowly, carefully—just as planned.Daphne walked beside Potter through the quiet corridors of Hogwarts, the castle nearly deserted with most students off enjoying their Hogsmeade visit. Their footsteps echoed softly against the stone floors, the usual hum of chatter and shuffling robes eerily absent. Occasionally, a distant murmur from the few remaining students drifted through the hallways, but for the most part, it felt like the castle belonged to just the two of them. She kept her pace deliberately slow, making sure to stay just close enough that their arms nearly brushed with every step. Not too close—she didn't want to seem clingy—but just enough to fl@ster him. Whenever he stole a glance at her, she met his eyes with a small, shy smile before looking away. The game was subtle, delicate, but effective.Jingles trotted ahead, his tail flicking contentedly, occasionally pausing to glance back at them, as if checking on her progress. He weaved between their legs, adding an air of casual familiarity to their walk, and it made Potter relax just a little."So," Daphne said, tilting her head slightly, "Transfiguration. I assume you've been keeping up with your studies?"Potter blinked, as if pulling himself from his thoughts. "Er—yeah. More or less. It's not my worst subject.""Good," Daphne said, her voice light. "I'd hate for you to fall behind. You've got a natural knack for it."Jingles let out a small chirp, rubbing against Potter's leg as if in agreement. Potter chuckled softly, bending down briefly to scratch behind the cat's ears before straightening again. "Guess I just need to apply myself more," he admitted.She smiled at that—let him think it was his own realisation.After a beat of comfortable silence, Potter cleared his throat. "So, uh… Care of Magical Creatures." He glanced at her. "Why did you step in with Malfoy?"Daphne was caught off guard. She hadn't prepared for this question. Her mind raced, but she quickly schooled her features into a thoughtful expression. "Malfoy annoys me," she said smoothly, which was true enough. "He thinks he can get away with anything because of his family name, and someone needs to remind him that he can't." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "And honestly, I wasn't just defending Buckbeak—" she hoped she had remembered the name correctly, "—it was also about the principle of it. He ignored a professor's instructions. If I hadn't said anything, Hagrid could've been blamed."Potter exhaled through his nose, a small, unexpected smile tugging at his lips. "You saved Hagrid a lot of trouble. Malfoy would have made sure Buckbeak was executed or tried to get Hagrid fired if you hadn't stepped in."Daphne hadn't expected that response. Before she could stop herself, she stared at him, momentarily stunned. He was thanking her?She quickly recovered, shaking her head as if it were nothing. "You don't need to thank me.""I do, though," Potter insisted. "That was… well, it was decent of you."Daphne simply hummed, letting the subject drop, but inside, she felt a flicker of satisfaction. This is going well. She kept her expression composed, but allowed the faintest hint of a smile to linger. He was trusting her, or at least beginning to. One step closer.They reached the library and found a quiet corner, away from the few lingering first and second years. Jingles hopped onto the table, curling into a neat ball, but his ears twitched as he listened to them.Daphne pulled out a Transfiguration book, flipping it open. "Alright, let's see how well you remember the teapot-to-tortoise spell."As they went over the material, Daphne found herself mildly surprised—Potter wasn't half bad. He had an instinctive grasp on the theory, and when they practiced wand movements, his technique was solid. She arched a brow, considering.Why isn't he ranked higher in our year? She suspected Weasley was dragging him down, or perhaps he was simply too caught up in the chaos that constantly surrounded him—Quirrell, the Chamber of Secrets, and now Sirius Black. It was always him, always at the centre. If I have to be his girlfriend, I'll at least make sure he studies more.Eventually, they finished their work, and Daphne shifted in her chair, adjusting her posture ever so slightly so that her blouse fell just right. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Potter glancing—trying to be subtle, but utterly failing.
  Got you.
She let the moment settle before exhaling softly, as if gathering courage. Slowly, she leaned forward just a fraction, enough to make her blouse shift, revealing a little more of her cleavage. Potter's eyes flickered downward for the briefest second before he quickly looked away, his face turning pink. Satisfied, she let the corner of her lips twitch slightly before speaking. "I, um… I wanted to apologise for last year."Potter blinked, startled. "What? Why are you apologising? You were one of the few who didn't ridicule me over the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing."She cast him a small, hesitant look. "I still glared at you, though—after Mrs. Norris was petrified. I was scared." She looked down briefly, brushing her fingers along Jingles' fur. "For Jingles."Potter softened. "I get it," he said. "That whole thing was… weird. But I never thought you were against me." He smiled, shy and small. "I actually looked at you to make sure your cat was alright."Daphne stilled, momentarily caught off guard. So he noticed me back then? That's… convenient. She schooled her expression quickly and offered a relieved smile. "That's… sweet of you."Potter shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I just think familiars are interesting," he admitted. "Honestly, I kind of wish I had one."Daphne's mind immediately shifted gears. Now that is something I can use.She leaned forward slightly, voice laced with curiosity. "Really? Then maybe I could tell you more about them. Want to go for a walk? The others won't be back before dinner, and I'm a bit bored."Potter's hesitation was brief—his face brightened almost instantly, eager. His posture loosened, shoulders relaxing as if he had just remembered he didn't have to be on guard. He shifted slightly closer, the corners of his lips twitching up in what seemed like an unguarded moment of excitement. "Yeah! That sounds great."Daphne smiled to herself. Got him.They stood up, Jingles stretching before hopping off the table to trot ahead of them. But just as they exited the library, Daphne came to a screeching halt.Walking straight toward them was the worst possible person.Astoria.And she had seen them.Her smirk was terrifying.Daphne said nothing. She simply lifted her chin, pretending not to notice as she strode past. Astoria and her friends whispered amongst themselves, giggling and snickering just loud enough to be heard.Daphne kept her expression neutral, though she instinctively straightened her posture, forcing herself to maintain composure. Still, she could feel the heat creeping up her neck, betraying her frustration. She tightened her jaw slightly, willing herself to appear unaffected, but her fingers twitched at her sides, betraying the urge to shoot Astoria a warning glance. Brilliant. Just brilliant. Astoria was never going to let this go.But it didn't matter. It was impossible to hide forever. Sooner or later, people were going to find out.She just wished it hadn't been Astoria first.The crisp autumn air was refreshing as Daphne and Potter stepped outside, the castle behind them growing quieter as they wandered toward the open grounds. Jingles padded ahead, tail high, leading them along the path as if he had chosen their destination. The distant murmur of students still lingering in the castle faded behind them, leaving only the rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird in the cool afternoon air.Daphne glanced at Potter, noticing his gaze lingering on Jingles as the cat padded ahead. She smirked slightly. "You really are fascinated by him, aren't you?"Potter turned to her, looking slightly sheepish. "I guess I just never knew much about familiars before. I always thought they were something rare.""They are," Daphne said smoothly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I was lucky. My parents gifted Jingles to me when I was four, and soon after, we performed the familiar ritual."Potter's curiosity sharpened at that. "The familiar ritual? How does it work?""It's an old spell," she explained, recalling the memory with faint nostalgia. "It requires runes to be drawn during the process. My father was the one who performed the ritual for me. It's not something just anyone can do." The flickering candlelight, the strange warmth that had filled the room, the moment of connection—it all felt so distant now, but it had been one of the defining moments of her childhood.Potter nodded, processing that, then asked, "So before that, Jingles was just an ordinary cat? Does that mean any pet can become a familiar?"Daphne tilted her head slightly, considering his question. "Yes, Jingles was just an ordinary kitten before the ritual. But no, not just any pet can become a familiar." She met Potter's gaze, watching as he absorbed the information. "There has to be a certain compatibility between the witch or wizard and the animal. The bond won't form otherwise. It's rare to find a pet that is truly compatible."Potter looked thoughtful, his brows drawing together slightly. Then, after a moment, he asked, "Is the ritual safe? I mean, what happens if the pet and the wizard aren't compatible? Does something bad happen to the animal?"Daphne blinked, pausing mid-step. That was… actually a good question. She frowned slightly, searching her memory, but she had never really thought about it before. "I don't actually know," she admitted, glancing up at him. "I was only four at the time. I never questioned it."Potter nodded, accepting her answer, though curiosity still lingered in his expression.Daphne smirked suddenly, a teasing glint in her eyes. "There's a book in my family's library about familiars. I could look it up during the winter break… if you ask nicely."Potter flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I—I'd really appreciate that," he mumbled. "I just find the whole thing fascinating."Daphne's smirk lingered, satisfied with his reaction. She enjoyed teasing him—there was something amusing about watching him fluster under the slightest bit of attention. But beneath that amusement, there was also calculation. This was a small test, a way to see how easily she could make him flustered. "I'll see what I can do."They continued walking until they reached a bench beneath a large oak tree. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, golden and orange hues drifting to the ground around them. Jingles, as if sensing that they were settled, slunk away without a sound, disappearing into the foliage.Potter watched the cat vanish and asked, "Does he always wander off like that?"Daphne shrugged. "Fairly often. He's a cat. Sometimes he craves attention, other times he disappears for hours doing who knows what. Last year, with the attacks, I kept him close, but now…" She gestured vaguely. "There's nothing dangerous out here for him, so I let him have his freedom."Potter didn't look entirely convinced. "What about the Dementors? What if he runs into one? Wouldn't that be bad?"Daphne giggled softly, shaking her head. "He'll be fine. Dementors feed on human emotions. I'm not even sure they can sense animals at all." She glanced at him, her smile turning slightly amused. "But thanks for worrying."Potter relaxed slightly at that, though his eyes lingered on the spot where Jingles had disappeared. A comfortable silence settled between them, the cool breeze rustling through the grass, the castle standing tall in the distance.Then, Potter did something unexpected. He turned to her, his expression earnest, and said, "Thank you, Greengrass."Daphne blinked, caught off guard. "For what?"Potter hesitated, then offered a small, genuine smile. "I can't go to Hogsmeade. Usually, I'm just stuck inside, bored. But today was… nice. You made a day I was dreading bearable. Fun, even."Daphne felt it—heat rushing up her neck, spreading to her face. She was blushing.
  Why am I blushing?
She had expected him to enjoy himself, yes. She had planned for it. But this? This kind of heartfelt appreciation? She felt hot. Too hot.She swallowed, forcing herself to regain control. "You're welcome," she said smoothly, though her voice was softer than usual. "Maybe we can do it again sometime. I won't go to every Hogsmeade weekend—I have too much studying for that. Also, you may call me Daphne."Potter's smile grew, warm and genuine. "I'd like that, Daphne."Daphne smiled back, but the heat in her face refused to fade. This is ridiculous. She told herself it was just part of the plan, just another step in getting closer to Potter, but something about his sincerity had shaken her more than she cared to admit. Was it really that easy to fluster her? She shifted slightly, trying to focus, but the warmth in her cheeks lingered, unsettling and unfamiliar. Something was wrong. She couldn't stop looking at Potter. And suddenly, thoughts flooded her mind. He doesn't look that bad. Actually, he looks…A certain hunger gripped her, something instinctual. She wanted to touch him.She bit her lower lip, her pupils dilating slightly as a strange certainty settled over her. He could give me a strong, healthy litter—Daphne froze as if struck by a Stunning Spell. Litter?! Her spine went rigid, her eyes widening in pure, unfiltered horror. For a brief, terrifying moment, she thought she might actually faint. What in Merlin's name was wrong with her?!The realisation crashed into her. These weren't her thoughts. These emotions, this overwhelming heat—it was coming through the bond.
  Jingles. That little sh@t.
He must have snuck off somewhere to make love to a lady cat, and now, through their bond, she was feeling everything.Daphne shot up from the bench, her face deeply flushed, her mind clouded with lust that wasn't even hers. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus. "I—" she cleared her throat, keeping her voice steady. "I have to go now. This was nice. I'm looking forward to next time, Harry."Potter blinked at her sudden shift in demeanour. "Uh… alright?"Without another word, Daphne turned on her heel and walked away as quickly as she could without outright running.She needed to find Jingles.That mangy, mingy little b@st@rd was getting a stern talking to. If he ever did this again, she would neuter him.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: