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Harry Potter was having a very bad morning.
Unfortunately, he didn't know it yet.
The Great Hall was filled with the usual chaos of breakfast. Hundreds of students talked over one another beneath the enchanted ceiling, which reflected a pale autumn sky. Plates floated through the air, owls swooped overhead delivering letters, and somewhere at the Ravenclaw table two students were arguing passionately about Arithmancy.
Harry barely noticed any of it.
His attention, as it often was these days, was fixed on the Slytherin table.
Specifically, on Daphne Greengrass.
She sat several seats away from Draco Malfoy, a book propped open beside her plate. While everyone around her chatted and laughed, Daphne seemed entirely absorbed in whatever she was reading. It was a familiar sight. Harry had spent the better part of a year watching her from a distance and had never once seen her actively seek out a conversation.
As if to prove the point, a nervous-looking third-year approached her.
The boy smiled, Daphne barely glanced up.
The boy began speaking.
And Daphne looked back down at her book.
The conversation died a swift and painful death.
After several awkward seconds, the boy retreated with all the dignity of a defeated soldier.
Ron watched him go and let out a low whistle.
"Another victim of the Ice Queen."
Harry frowned, he hated that nickname.
"I don't think she's actually mean."
Ron turned toward him with the expression of someone witnessing a particularly fascinating species of stupidity.
"You've literally never spoken to her." Ron dropped that fact like it was a mic in a rap battle.
"That doesn't mean she's mean." Harry defended bravely
"It doesn't mean she's nice either." Neville said from where he was sitting next to Ron
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron cut him off.
"Harry." He spoke.
"What?" Harry asked, annoyed.
"You've had a crush on her for almost a year." Ron continued
Harry nearly inhaled his pumpkin juice.
Across from them, Hermione sighed heavily and lowered her book.
"You really need to stop being subtle, Ron."
"I'm not being subtle."
"No," Hermione agreed. "You're really not."
Harry wished the floor would open beneath him.
Unfortunately, that was the exact moment Fred and George Weasley arrived. The twins slid onto either side of him with matching grins.
Harry immediately became suspicious.
Years of experience had taught him that identical smiles from Fred and George rarely led anywhere good.
"Harry," Fred said.
"No." Harry cut him off.
"We haven't even said anything." George looked offended.
"You've got that look." Harry said, cautiously.
"What look?" Fred asked innocently.
"The look that means I'll regret whatever happens next."
The twins exchanged a glance, then they grinned wider.
Harry felt a sudden sense of dread.
Pure, instinctive dread.
Daphne Greengrass had a simple philosophy regarding boys.
Most of them were idiots, not malicious or dangerous. Just idiots. Years of experience had convinced her of this fact. Every conversation seemed to follow the same pattern. A boy would approach her, compliment her appearance, attempt some awkward flirtation, and then become offended when she showed no interest.
It was quite honestly, exhausting.
Eventually she had stopped participating altogether.
Ignoring them was easier, and the strategy worked remarkably well.
Unfortunately, people had mistaken her indifference for arrogance.
Somewhere along the way she had acquired a reputation; The Ice Queen.
Daphne found the nickname ridiculous, but she couldn't deny its usefulness. If people thought she was cold and unapproachable, they generally left her alone.
That suited her perfectly, she preferred books anyway.
Books rarely expected anything from her, books didn't try to impress their friends just so they could go out with her. Books didn't spend ten minutes talking about Quidditch before asking her out. Books were peaceful.
As she turned another page, she remained blissfully unaware that her peaceful existence was about to be destroyed by two red-haired lunatics.
Fred and George had spent an entire week preparing their masterpiece. Neither Harry nor anyone else knew this.
The twins had acquired ingredients. Questionable ingredients. Possibly illegal ingredients.
Ingredients that would almost certainly result in disciplinary action if discovered.
The final product sat hidden inside a small vial.
According to George, it was "technically a romance potion."
According to Fred, it was "more of a dramatic gesture enhancer."
According to anyone with common sense, it was a catastrophe waiting to happen.
Harry never stood a chance.
One moment he was eating breakfast and the next, he felt an overwhelming certainty settle over him. A certainty so powerful that it drowned out every other thought. Suddenly, Harry became convinced that he needed to perform the grandest romantic gesture in history. Immediately. No hesitation, no questioning why, he just went for it.
He stood up.
Ron blinked.
"Harry?"
Harry didn't answer.
Hermione looked alarmed.
"Why is he standing?"
Across the table, Fred and George immediately began snickering.
Hermione's eyes narrowed.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes," Fred whispered.
The entire Gryffindor table watched as Harry marched away.
Like a man on a mission.
Or a man under the influence of something deeply questionable...
Across the hall, Daphne continued reading. She didn't even notice him approaching, not until he stopped directly beside the Slytherin table.
The Great Hall gradually fell silent as students started noticing Harry, and where he was standing. More importantly, who he was standing beside. A ripple of anticipation spread through the room.
Harry cleared his throat and suddenly began singing.
The silence became absolute. Every student turned and every professor looked up.
Harry Potter was serenading Daphne Greengrass. Loudly, passionately, and with absolutely no musical talent whatsoever. The performance was so terrible that it somehow became unforgettable.
Daphne stared at him, the book slowly lowered in her hands. Her expression suggested she was trying to determine whether she had accidentally wandered into an alternate reality.
Harry continued singing.
The twins, meanwhile, were barely holding themselves together. At one point George actually slid halfway off his bench from laughter. Then Fred tossed something through the air, and without looking Harry caught it.
A red rose.
The Great Hall collectively stopped breathing.
Harry stepped forward, he dropped to one knee and presented the flower.
Ron made a strangled choking noise and Hermione covered her face with both hands.
"No," she whispered.
"Oh, this is magnificent," Fred whispered back.
Then George tossed Harry a small velvet box.
The box snapped open, a ring inside. A cheap ring from Zonko’s, the joke shop in town, yet nobody else knew that. To everyone watching, it looked horrifyingly real.
Harry raised it dramatically.
"Daphne Greengrass," he declared.
His voice echoed through the Great Hall.
"Will you marry me?"
Silence. Complete silence. Hell, Even the enchanted ceiling seemed to pause.
Then the potion wore off. Instantly. Harry blinked, he looked at the rose, he looked at the ring, then at Daphne and at the hundreds of students gawking at him. Finally, he looked at Fred and George rolling across the floor in hysterics. Understanding arrived all at once.
His face drained of color.
"Oh no." The words barely escaped his lips.
Nobody heard them, because the Great Hall exploded.
The noise was deafening. Students leaping to their feet, people shouting across tables. Harry heard someone scream "I owe Terry Boot 5 galleons!". A Hufflepuff dropped an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice.
Professor McGonagall stared over the rim of her glasses in complete disbelief while Professor Flitwick laughed so hard, he nearly toppled from his stack of cushions. Hagrid's booming laughter echoed through the hall. As for Severus Snape, he looked happier than Harry had ever seen him.
Not amused. Not entertained. Happy. The sort of deep, genuine happiness usually reserved for birthdays and personal victories. Watching Harry Potter publicly humiliate himself appeared to be one of the greatest moments of his life.
Harry wanted to vanish. Preferably forever.
Then Daphne stood, and the room fell silent once more.
Harry prepared for death.
Daphne looked at him, then at the rose and the ring, and then back at Harry. For several long seconds she simply stared.
Finally, she spoke.
"No."
Then she sat down, opened her book and resumed reading.
The Great Hall erupted even louder than before.
For the next several days, Ron and Hermione suffered almost as much as Harry did.
Almost.
Every time someone mentioned the proposal, Ron physically cringed and Hermione looked as though she wanted to Obliviate herself.
"He sang," she said to Ron one evening in the common room.
"I know." he responded.
"He got on one knee..." she continued, face pale.
"I know, Hermione." Ron answered, annoyed.
"HE HAD A ROSE!" She all but screamed.
"I KNOW!" Ron shouted, face red
Hermione shuddered.
"I wasn't even involved and somehow I'm embarrassed."
Harry buried his face in a cushion.
The story spread through Hogwarts with astonishing speed.
Not that it needed help, several hundred witnesses had been present. Not to mention that there was nowhere to hide. Students pointed whenever Harry walked past. The first-years saluted him. One daring and entrepreneurial Ravenclaw even began selling commemorative badges.
"WILL YOU MARRY ME?" the caption read.
"NO." It said, in bright red.
Another featured a cartoon version of Harry holding a rose while Daphne, wearing a tiara made of ice, looked unimpressed. Harry bought every badge he could find and burned them.
More appeared the next day.
Daphne, meanwhile, found herself thinking about the incident far more than she cared to admit. Not because she was interested in Harry Potter. She wasn’t, at least, not yet.
But the entire situation made absolutely no sense. Harry Potter had never spoken to her, not once. Not in class, not in the library, not in the corridors, as far as Daphne knew, the Boy-Who-Lived barely knew she existed.
So why had he serenaded her? Why had he marched across the Great Hall carrying a rose? Why had he knelt in front of several hundred students and proposed marriage? The more she thought about it, the less sense it made.
Daphne prided herself on understanding people. Most boys were painfully predictable. Yet Harry Potter was not.
Every time she replayed the memory, she found herself focusing on his expression after the proposal.
The moment the song ended, the moment he looked around. The moment realization struck and he had looked utterly horrified. Not embarrassed or rejected, horrified. As though he had just woken up to discover he was standing naked in the middle of Diagon Alley. It didn’t fit. Nothing about the situation fit.
For three days the mystery annoyed her, then she solved it completely by accident. She was leaving the library when she heard laughter from an empty classroom nearby. Ordinarily she would have ignored it.
Then she heard Harry Potter's name.
"...I've never seen anyone turn that shade of red before," Fred Weasley wheezed.
"The look on his face when the potion wore off-" George immediately started laughing again.
"Best prank we've ever pulled." Fred finished.
"Not even close." Lee Jordan butted in.
"Top five." George stated, laughing.
Daphne stopped walking.
"...the singing was brilliant," Lee Jordan said.
"It wasn't supposed to be singing," Fred replied.
"That was a side effect." George snorted.
"The proposal was my favourite part." Jordan stated on
"The ring was my favourite part." Fred admitted
"The kneeling was my favourite part." George continued
"The rejection was my favourite part." The three of them said in sync. All three immediately dissolved into hysterics.
Daphne stared at the classroom door. Slowly, very slowly, everything clicked into place.
The potion, the rose, the singing, even the proposal and his horrified expression.
It had been a prank. Of course it had been a prank.
The realization should have annoyed her. Instead, she found herself unexpectedly relieved. Not because she'd believed Harry genuinely wanted to marry her. That would have been absurd. But because the alternative had been baffling. At least now it made sense. As she turned to leave, she caught one final sentence from inside.
"You know," Lee said between laughs, "I almost feel bad for him."
"Why?" Fred asked.
"Because he looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him."
There was a brief pause.
Then George laughed.
"Fair point."
Daphne continued down the corridor.
For a moment, she found herself remembering Harry's face in the Great Hall. The absolute panic. The sheer horror. The desperate wish to be literally anywhere else.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Draco Malfoy was considerably less amused by the situation. In fact, he was furious. Not because he believed Harry Potter genuinely intended to marry Daphne. Draco wasn't stupid. He knew a prank when he saw one.
The problem was that nobody had stopped talking about it. For an entire week, every conversation seemed to circle back to Potter and Greengrass. Potter's song, Potter’s rose, Potter’s proposal. Potter this, Potter that. Always Potter.
It was infuriating. Especially because Draco had spent years trying, and failing, to get Daphne's attention. He'd invited her to Hogsmeade. Twice. He'd attempted conversation. Repeatedly. He'd even endured one of her astronomy lectures. Voluntarily.
And yet somehow Harry Potter had managed to become the most interesting thing in her life without even trying. It was deeply unfair.
At lunch a few days later, Draco approached Daphne. She was reading, as usual.
He cleared his throat; she turned a page.
"Daphne." he began.
Nothing.
"Daphne." he said once more.
Slowly, she looked up.
"Yes?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
Draco sat down across from her.
"I saw you talking to Potter." He stated,
Daphne blinked.
"I wasn't aware that required reporting." she snorted.
Draco immediately regretted opening with that.
"It doesn't."
"Good."
She returned to her book.
Draco stared at her, then at the book and then back at her.
Finally, he blurted out:
"What do you even see in him?" he asked, face flushed.
That got her attention, Daphne lowered the book.
"What?" she looked very confused.
"The entire school won't stop talking about it." He went on.
"Talking about what?" she asked, totally lost.
"Potter." he spat.
Daphne stared.
"You do realize it was a prank." she asked incredulously.
"Obviously." he drawled.
"And yet you're annoyed anyway."
Draco opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Nothing came out.
Daphne watched him for several seconds, then a look of realization crossed her face. An extremely unfortunate look.
"Oh." she said, eyes wide.
Draco's expression darkened further and he immediately knew he was doomed.
"Oh no." she went on.
"Don't." He spoke.
"You like me." she breathed.
"Daphne." He spoke again.
"You actually like me." she sounded genuinely surprised, as though someone had informed her that giant squid could sing opera.
"Daphne please." he begged.
Draco wanted to fling himself into the Black Lake.
"I am leaving." he said.
"You do." she still sounded surprised.
"I am definitely leaving." he stated, face red with embarrassment.
"You absolutely do." now she was sounding a little amused.
Draco stood so quickly he nearly knocked over the bench and Daphne watched him retreat across the Hall. Then, to the astonishment of several nearby Slytherins, she laughed. The sound followed Draco all the way back to his seat.
It was not one of the better days of his life.
Far away, Sirius Black received an owl. The letter contained only six words.
POTTER PROPOSED TO AND SERENADED GREENGRASS.
Sirius laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. When he finally recovered, he decided that something had to be done. Partly because the situation was hilarious. Partly because Harry "clearly liked the girl."
But mostly because Sirius Black had never met a situation that he couldn't make worse through enthusiastic involvement.
Dumbledore reached a similar conclusion, though his motives were slightly more respectable. McGonagall knew trouble was coming the moment she saw him smiling.
"Albus."
McGonagall looked concerned.
"Please tell me you're not planning anything." she asked, exasperated.
"Planning?" He responded, a twinkle in his eye.
"Yes." McGonagall said
"Me? Never." Dumbledore stated, a sly smile creeping its way onto his face.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're smiling." She accused
"Am I?" He folded his hands.
"You are." She pointed an accusatory finger at him.
Dumbledore stood up.
"Two young people." he started.
"Albus." she tried to interrupt.
"Separated by circumstance." he said as he walked towards her.
"Albus..." she attempted once more.
"And catastrophic serenades." He ended and burst into laughter.
"ALBUS."
Their campaign began shortly afterward. At first, it was subtle. Or at least Dumbledore claimed it was subtle, McGonagall disagreed.
"Albus," she said while reviewing class schedules, "you cannot simply move students around because you think they'd make a nice couple."
"I would never do such a thing." Dumbledore looked up from his tea.
"You moved Miss Greengrass into Potter's Transfiguration project." she looked cross.
"An unfortunate coincidence." he said solemnly.
"You moved them into the same study group." she sounded exasperated.
"A second unfortunate coincidence." he kept up his act.
"You moved them into the same tutoring program." she seemed at wit's end.
Dumbledore adjusted his glasses.
"Hogwarts is a mysterious place."
McGonagall closed her eyes.
For a brief moment, she contemplated murder.
The first "coincidence" occurred three days later.
Harry entered Transfiguration, then stopped. Daphne was sitting beside his assigned seat. They stared at each other, yet McGonagall looked directly at neither of them.
"Sit down, Mr. Potter."
As soon as Harry sat down, the entire class immediately began grinning.
The second "coincidence" happened in Charms. Harry discovered that project groups had been rearranged. Somehow, miraculously, in a class taught by Flitwick. Who was one of Dumbledore's closest friends.
Harry was paired with Daphne. Again.
Flitwick looked entirely innocent.
He was not convincing.
The third "coincidence" happened in the library.
Harry arrived looking for a table, yet every seat was occupied except one. The chair directly opposite Daphne Greengrass.
Madam Pince watched from behind a bookshelf. The moment Harry sat down, she disappeared. Almost as though she'd been waiting.
Very suspicious.
The fourth "coincidence" involved Hagrid.
Harry should have realized something was wrong when Hagrid greeted him with unusual enthusiasm.
"Harry!" he shouted, slapping him on the back.
"Hi, Hagrid." He wheezed, all the air taken out of him by the hit.
"Glad yeh came." Hagrid grinned
Harry looked around, only six students had attended the supposedly optional Care of Magical Creatures workshop. One of them was Daphne.
Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Hagrid." He said quietly
"Aye?" the half-giant responded.
"Did Professor Dumbledore tell you to invite me?" Harry asked heatedly
Hagrid looked horrified.
"No!"
Pause.
"Maybe." The man grinned sheepishly
The fifth "coincidence" broke Harry.
He entered the Great Hall with Daphne, right after class.
Every available seat at their respective tables was occupied except two. Directly opposite one another at the ends of the tables.
Harry looked at Daphne.
Daphne looked at Harry.
Then both slowly turned toward the staff table.
Dumbledore waved.
McGonagall looked like she regretted every decision that had brought her to this point.
By the third "coincidence", Daphne became suspicious.
By the fifth "coincidence", Harry became suspicious.
By the tenth "coincidence", the entire school knew exactly what was happening.
The betting pool started shortly afterward.
After that, things escalated dramatically. Harry and Daphne somehow ended up sharing library duty, then tutoring duty. Then a research project and an astronomy observation assignment.
At one point they were assigned adjacent greenhouse stations despite being in completely different classes for Herbology. Neither even questioned it anymore. They simply accepted that Hogwarts itself appeared determined to force them into proximity.
"Do you think they're doing it on purpose?"
Harry asked one evening. Hermione stared at him and then at Ron, who shrugged. She looked back at Harry
"Harry, are you serious?”
"No." He said, trying not to look like an idiot.
"Good." She said, contently.
Because if Harry Potter had genuinely failed to notice that half the staff were conspiring against him, Hermione intended to scream.
The surprising part was Snape.
Initially, he wanted nothing to do with the entire affair. Then Dumbledore informed him of the plan. Snape spent nearly a full minute staring into the distance.
"Absolutely not." He snapped
"Why not?" The old headmaster inquired.
"Because I value my dignity." He stated as if it was obvious.
"Severus." Dumbledore began.
"No." Snape vehemently denied.
"Severus please.” Dumbledore begged
"No!” Snape snapped
Three days later he was helping, mostly by accident.
At least, that was what he told himself.
The first time that it happened during Potions, Snape walked between desks. He paused to look at the seating charts, scoured for Greengrass and Potter’s name, then looked at them.
A very long silence followed.
"Mr. Nott."
Theodore Nott looked up.
"Sir?"
"Move."
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
Five minutes later Potter and Daphne were working side by side.
Snape spent the remainder of class pretending not to notice.
The second time was worse.
Daphne arrived early for Potions and Potter arrived late. The only empty seat left happened to be beside Daphne. An extraordinary coincidence.
Particularly because Snape had personally rearranged the classroom ten minutes earlier. When Draco pointed this out, Snape assigned him detention.
Privately, Snape found the entire situation entertaining.
Not because of romance. He would never admit to that, ever.
The entertaining part was watching two intelligent teenagers become complete idiots whenever they interacted.
Potter could duel with Death Eaters and Greengrass could dismantle half the Slytherin House in an argument. But put them in the same room and suddenly neither remembered how sentences worked.
It was pathetic. And somehow very funny.
His favourite incident occurred in the library.
Potter asked Daphne whether she wanted a quill.
What he meant to say was:
"Would you like to borrow a quill?"
What emerged was:
"Would you quill?"
Daphne stared at him like he’d grown a second head and Potter turned the colour of a tomato.
Then Daphne replied:
"I already have one."
Potter nodded.
"Right."
Then neither spoke for ten minutes. Snape happened to witness the entire exchange while delivering paperwork to Madam Pince. He nearly laughed.
Nearly.
"You're enjoying this."
Snape looked up. Dumbledore was standing beside him.
"I am not." he denied.
"You are." Dumbledore teased
"I am not." he adamantly denied.
"Severus." Dumbledore prodded
A pause.
Then:
"They're both idiots." he stated.
"Of course they are." Dumbledore smiled.
"And your ridiculous plan is somehow working." Snape admitted
"It is." Dumbledore nodded
Snape looked genuinely offended by that fact.
Which only made Dumbledore smile more.
Their first real conversation happened three weeks later.
It began with a collision outside the library and books scattered across the floor. Both immediately crouched to gather them, their hands brushed. Harry nearly forgot how breathing worked while Daphne rolled her eyes.
"You're Harry Potter." She said, staring him right in the eyes. It was the first non-school related thing she had ever said to him.
Harry's brain promptly stopped functioning.
"Yes." he breathed, heart beating like a drummer at a heavy metal concert.
Daphne looked at him, then laughed.
"You know," she said, gathering another book, "that proposal might have been the worst thing I've ever witnessed."
"Oh good." Harry groaned.
"What?" she said, giggling.
"Now I get to be humiliated by you too." he dryly stated.
To his surprise, Daphne laughed once more. It transformed her entire face. Harry forgot every language he knew.
"It was objectively funny," she admitted.
"I wanted to die." He gloomily stated
"I know." she responded.
"You enjoyed that." he mischievously accused.
"A little." she smiled teasingly.
Harry groaned, Daphne laughed again.
And suddenly talking wasn't as difficult.
Weeks became months and conversations became routine. They became friends, and eventually something more. Harry discovered that Daphne wasn't cold at all; she was cautious. Years of being treated like a prize had taught her to keep people at a distance.
Daphne discovered that Harry wasn't trying to impress her, he wasn't trying to win anything. He simply enjoyed spending time with her.
That realization unsettled her in the best possible way.
The breakthrough came one evening beside the Black Lake.
The sun was setting, painting the water gold. For a while they sat in comfortable silence.
Then Harry asked a question.
"Daphne?" He looked her way.
"Yes?" She responded in her silky voice
"Why do you always expect the worst from people?" He asked
She was quiet for a long time. When she finally answered, her voice was softer than usual.
"Because eventually most people disappoint you." the look on her face was heart wrenching.
Harry considered that, then shook his head.
"That's sad." he finally spoke.
"A little." She agreed.
He smiled at her.
"I'll try not to do so, then." He solemnly stated.
Something shifted inside her chest.
Something dangerous, yet something wonderful.
Months later, they sat in the same spot beside the lake.
Talking, joking, laughing. Comfortable in a way neither had expected. Harry looked at her, Daphne looked back. And suddenly both realized the truth.
Somewhere between the disastrous proposal and countless conversations afterward, they had fallen for each other. Neither knew exactly when it had happened.
Only that it had.
When they finally started dating, Hogwarts reacted exactly as expected.
Complete chaos.
Fred and George immediately claimed responsibility. Hermione experienced fresh waves of second-hand embarrassment. Ron threatened to hex anyone who mentioned the proposal again, Draco looked personally betrayed by the universe and Hagrid laughed so hard the table shook.
Flitwick kept asking whether Harry planned to propose again.
"Properly this time." He laughed
"Professor-" Harry started, embarrassed.
"I'm just saying, the first attempt lacked polish." He said teasingly
"Professor please." Harry tried once more
"Perhaps fewer witnesses?" Flitwick continued
"Professor." Harry kept going.
"And maybe less singing?" Flitwick laughed loudly
"PROFESSOR." Harry shouted, face flushed.
Months later, Harry and Daphne walked through the Great Hall hand in hand.
The whispers had long since become background noise. They were happy, comfortable, together. Flitwick spotted them first and nudged Hagrid.
"There they are." Flitwick smirked as Hagrid grinned.
"Think he'll propose again?" he joked.
"Not if he's got any sense." Flitwick shot back
Harry groaned from halfway across the hall and Daphne laughed.
And for perhaps the first time in Hogwarts history, the worst proposal ever made had somehow led to exactly the right ending.