Important Disclaimer: This story begins approximately half way through the Order of the Phoenix, albeit with some slight changes in continuity. Harry and Ginny have began dating a year early, something which you will see explained in the context of the story. If an event happened in the film that is not covered in this continuity but is still referenced, presume it still played out identically. This is a romance story between Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass, not a retcon to the entire universe.

And now, presenting…


~ Living Dangerously ~


Daphne Greengrass took no pleasure out of making others dislike her, but it just so happened that she was very good at it.

The Slytherin House had a motto it often defined itself by: Proud. Ambitious. Cunning. These three words were the traits that she made a point to strive towards. While some of her housemates just obnoxiously spewed house pride where ever they could, she put the effort in to earn it.

Although everyone in Hogwarts was aware of her birth name, Daphne was also known by a second, far more wide-used name: the Ice Queen. It was a cliche, overdone and rather inaccurate representation of her, but trying to stop it had eventually ended up doing more bad than good. She never deliberately intended for her attitude to come across the way it did -she just knew the importance of putting her education before her personal life- and if her others interpreted that as her being antisocial, then frankly, they were not her problem. It may have been her housemates decision to give her that name, but it had been hers to roll with it.

All that being said however; Daphne currently found herself struggling to maintain the Ice Queen persona she'd become well-known for, as her temper flared with a burning passion. Today had been a long and arduous day for her, made all the worst by the fact that she had somehow found herself in an argument with her Head of House, Professor Snape. Her priority now was remaining calm, she worked hard for a good reputation among the professors and wasn't about to run the risk of souring it.

"I won't hear another word of it from either of you! You'll both serve after school detentions with me for the rest of the week."

She'd been paired with the Gryffindor Golden Boy, Harry Potter, in today's lesson. Which fair enough, that alone she could handle. She didn't particularly like the boy, but outside from his famed messiah complex, he kept good grades and for the most part, seemed to keep mostly to himself. Unlike most wizards and witches in her house, Daphne considered it beneath an up-and-coming prodigy such as herself to partake in the silly territorial rivalry that Slytherin and Gryffindor shared.

But saying that, then she actually spoken to him, and any suspicions she had towards him were then fulfilled.

"Yes, Professor," she mumbled scornfully. "Sorry, Professor."

She'd attend these extra lessons under silent protest, but would get them over with. It would interfere with her nightly workout and totally throw her whole diet off balance, but she digressed.

Now the Potions classroom had emptied and she and Potter stood alone before their teacher.

When their potion had gone up in flames it had released thick fumes into the air, most of which still lingered. Humidity was at a peak, forcing sweat from her brow and several other places. That was another thing that contributed to the surrender of her argument; she was absolutely boiling and couldn't afford the added stress.

Daphne sniffed loudly.

As another hot wave flushed over her, she rapidly regretted her wardrobe choice today. Her skirt ended just before her knee-length socks began, only allowing heat to escape through a peep-hole view of her thighs, which was the source of a lot of her over-heating. She normally took a tremendous amount of pride in herself physically, as well as academically, but now her blonde hair had long since frizzed out and trailed down her back, disregarding the usual rules that long hair was to be tied in a bun during lesson. She looked about as much of a mess as she felt.

"Sorry, sir, why am I still here?" A voice said beside her.

Daphne repressed the urge to growl.

"Because your idiocy matched Greengrass'," Snape was growing impatient. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

It was clear Potter didn't mind escalating this into something more, which further annoyed her. It made sense he'd feel the need to drag it out, since it was him that caused her to knock a full opened jar of ingredients into their potion in the first place. She silently willed him to stop talking, just so they could get the lecture over with. The last thing she wanted was Umbridge or the Headmaster getting involved -that would really be the final nail in the coffin.

"Tonight, tomorrow and Friday evenings I expect you both to return to this room for half an hour of detention," Snape scowled. "During that time you will rebrew and complete the potion, and if it's anything less than perfect you'll both fail the unit. You already know where the ingredients are. If you need me, I'll be in the staff room attempting to enjoy the rest of my night... Do try not need me. When I return I expect process to have been made, understood?"

The two nodded their heads in unison.

As the potions master took his leave, Potter then deflated. He glanced over to her and tired pulling a smile. Whatever attempts at peacemaking he was trying went un unricipricated, he turned his attention towards their cauldron.

"Right, let's get on with it."

Daphne marched past him and muttered something fowl under her breath. She'd not been around him more than a day and his self-important, wannabe attitude was pushing every one of her buttons. At least her pride had been earned, not something she'd been wrongfully born with.

Reluctantly, Daphne had a high threshold, so she didn't find it difficult to ignore him as they began their work. Neither of them wanted to be here, and she was sure if there was one thing they had in-common, it was that they both wanted to get out of here as quickly and as calmly as possible.

Daphne fanned at her face, her cool exterior was working overtime to not portray the exasperated girl underneath. As she stretched out her back, she caught his wandering eyes.

"What?"

Potter looked between the cauldron and her.

"Nothing. You going to help?" he asked obnoxiously.

Her immediate response was to grind her teeth together. Apparently, Potter had a mouth on him today. She chewed her lip, and tried to piece together the least problematic response she could muster.

"I was stretching."

He rolled his eyes, "Okay... just, I'm not doing all the work again."

Daphne's eyebrows snapped up to the ceiling. A flare of temper ignited inside her and this time she didn't have the self control to ignore it.

"You did nothing today -bar making childish faces at Weasel from across the room- so, do not start with me."

Potter frowned.

"Didn't you literally sit down while we were working?"

"We had finished by that time," she seethed. "It was a perfect brewing, an easy Outstanding-grade, and the only reason it was ruined was because -you know what- no," Daphne shook her head. She was better than this, she wasn't going to get involved with his childishness and risk further detention time.

She gritted her teeth harder and rolled up her sleeves. "I'll do the brewing, you go get the ingredients. I need the Chizpurfle carapaces first... They're under there," she pointed across the room.

Potter stared at her coldly.

"Chizpurfle carapaces, what?"

Her glare became one to rival a Basilisk. She knew exactly what he was trying to do. She knew, but really couldn't find the effort in herself to argue it.

"Please."

Potter threw her a painfully fake smile and turned on his heels. He moved over to the table cabinet and bent down to rummage in it.

Daphne attempted to divert her eyes, but found them drawn to the boys figure. The heat must have been really getting to her, it was unlike her to be so crass. She gently tugged free a few buttons of her shirt, fanning herself again.

"Here," he returned, handing her the ingredients. "What else, Professor Greengrass?"

At that moment a hot flush hit Daphne and her mouth spoke before her brain was able to silence it.

"Potter, can we please just get this finished? I don't want to be here anymore than you do!"

The speed her words came out indicated she'd said that all on a single, forced-out breath. Potter moved back to his side of the cauldron and reluctantly, decided to stay there. The sincerity in her voice apparently must have gotten through to him.

This set off a number of minutes where the two worked together in mostly silence. Not having the stress of Professor Snape watching them or the atmosphere of being in lesson made the two work quicker and smoother, with Daphne giving the demand of what she needed and Potter quickly finding it for her.

Just as they neared the half way point of their brewing, Potter spoke up again.

"I didn't mean to push you earlier, by the way."

Daphne raised a brow. He was trying to peace-make, cute.

"Good."

"-I just couldn't squeeze past you," he then added.

Daphne scoffed.

"I hardly think you're in any position to be body shaming anyone with that on your forehead."

Potter rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance, "I wasn't calling you fat, I meant you were stood in the way."

"Mmhmm. I was working. Maybe next time you should focus less on me and more on the lesson."

He gave her a look Daphne could only guess was disgust and then looked away, blushing. She had officially succeeded in making him uncomfortable. He opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, struggling to find his words. He looked at her, back at the cauldron, than back at her. Breaking the exchange, he then returned over to the ingredients stack to await her next order.

Daphne threw him a dirty look and leaned in over the cauldron. The fumes hitting her were doing nothing but increasing the sweat already dripping from her brow.

"No apology?"

"Sorry I ever said anything..."

There was a desperation in his voice that pleaded mercy. Truth be told, Daphne herself didn't know why she was getting so determined to argue, but decided to ride it out.

"Someone's mother never taught them how treat a lady, clearly."

The second the words left her mouth she realized she should have left it when he had asked.

What was she doing, deliberately trying to patronize him? She was absolutely right the first time, neither of them wanted to be there and they should just work together to get it over with. So why in Merlin's name had she just say that? She surprised herself with it, true she had a habit of being blunt, but never cruel.

Daphne pulled herself back from the cauldron and turned around, only to find Potter inches away from her face. She recoiled, and opened her mouth to apologize.

"I didn-"

"Surprised you have nerve to talk about parents," he said with aggression in his voice.

Daphne furrowed her brow.

"What do you mean?"

"I saw your father there, the night Voldemort returned."

She winced at the name. Her first instinct was to scold him, but she caught the words in her throat. Still reeling from the low blow she'd just dealt him, she decided it was probably best to not push it.

"That isn't true."

"If it's not true, why did I see him there?"

"You did not."

"Yes I did."

"No, you didn't..." her voice was getting noticeably quieter. She was on the defensive, not only because he was absolutely right, but because now the roles had reversed and it was her who just wanted to get back on with the lesson. "You don't even know what he looks like, just drop it. I shouldn't have misspoke about your mother."

"He's about 6 foot? Blonde hair? Goatee?" Potter gestured to his height, hair and face.

A fire suddenly surged through Daphne's veins. An instinct pushed her to lash out and she jabbed him in the stomach with both her hands. She attempted to push him a number of feet away from her, but only actually succeeded in giving him a light shove.

"You are making some wild accusations, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, and?"

"And... and shut up about my family!" she snapped. "At least I have one."

Potter had moved in very close when she'd insulted him and as their argument had grown, they'd gotten closer still. Daphne now stood with the back of her legs pressed against the cauldron and her back arched to crane over it. His legs intertwined hers, their noses about an inch apart from each other. He was way too close for her to be comfortable with. She didn't know if this was some poor attempt at an intimidation, but she didn't care for it.

In a swift movement, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tore it back. Again, her strength failed to override his and she only succeeded in pulling his face a few inches away.

The two locked heated, angry eyes.

Then suddenly, this was no longer an aggressive situation. The world almost seemed to stand still for a second, in fact. All anger and the rage the two just shared seemed to drift calmly away.

Potter had a color of turquoise-green eyes she'd only ever seen before in her common room, Daphne noticed them. If she wasn't mistaken, she could just about make out a golden flame burning inside them. The grip on his hair loosened.

Like the potion behind the two, there was a sudden and hormonal instinct steadily brewing within them. They were suddenly extremely aware of one another's physical presence, as their heartbeats joined together in rhythm and grew into earthquakes around them. Every inch they had in contact felt like a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through their body. The only noise that accompanied the bubbling potion was their shared, shallow breaths filling the air.

Daphne's chest was pushed against Potters ribs, and for a split second, his eyes flickered down. An eyeful of cleavage through her shirt was enough to make him look away, but his glance hadn't been subtle in this slightest. Yet, despite her flushing cheeks, Daphne didn't pull away. It had sent a tingles up her body, and caused her blood to bubble like liquid magma was pumping through her veins. It was then Daphne caught onto how much she was trembling.

She drew her other hand up and placed it against his cheek. She hadn't mean to do that, herr body had acted on it's own. But was glad she did, as upon contact, a similar electric shot rattled down her spine.

With force, his hand suddenly took her by the waist.

A rush of chills washed over her. She bit her lip and muffled a moan. She'd never been man-handled like that before! Alarm bells in the back of her head were now screaming at her to break away from him.

"What're you...?" her voice began as barely a whisper, but then dissolved entirely to nothingness. Potter had a look on his face that told her he didn't entirely understand what was going on either.

She was pulling him in. She knew she was, and that she was also powerless to stop herself. She didn't want to stop it.

"Please... don't..." she attempted, doubting even at this close proximity he was able to hear her.

But Potter had heard her and suddenly ceased his advances. Her body screamed for him to continue, and the grip she had on his head suddenly tightened, pulling him in. Her movements instilled a primal-like grunt off him, a noise she'd never imagine a boy like him to make! It did nothing but add further heat to her already glowing face.

Then suddenly it was over.

Potter was viciously torn him from her and thrown to the floor, where he then rolled a few times before slamming against the brick-work wall.

All feelings of lust and excitement vanished in an instant. She looked to her side, as a thousand realities seemed to hit at once.

The two had been so invested in one-another they hadn't noticed Professor Snape enter the room. The Potions master was looking between the two, mouth hanging agape. In any other situation, seeing him in such a state would likely have been hilarious. He looked like he'd walked in on the middle of a murder!

And maybe in some way, he had done.

The implications of what she had just done descended on Daphne like a train, and her face replaced its look of shock with one of fear.

"Out of my classroom! If I catch you assaulting one of my students again, I'll have your head, Potter!" The Professor yelled.

The two didn't have to be told twice. Daphne scrambled towards the exit with Potter following closely behind.

As the door slammed shut behind, the two didn't so much as stop to acknowledge each other as they ran quickly down opposite directions of the corridor, Potter up to Gryffindor tower, and Daphne, deeper into the dungeons. Even after she reached the lowest floor, if she could have kept running, she would have.

With each step reality had become heavier and heavier on her shoulders. She couldn't begin to describe how she felt.

Disgusted in herself.

Daphne almost walked head-first into the stone wall they used as an entrance to the common room. It took her two attempts to successfully say the password before the wall was able to be walked through. As it turned transparent, Daphne immediately took off running again; leading head-first into the group of people she least desired to see right now.

Pansy and Draco were sat on the sofa and appeared deep in conversation, with Millicent was hovering lightly around them. It didn't take them long to notice they had company.

"Bloody hell's wrong with you?" Draco asked, though Daphne didn't feel it was out of sincerity.

"Nothing," she began to shout, but caught herself. She took a breath. "Just back from my run."

Millicent laughed and moved closer. Daphne instinctively backed up.

"Look like you've seen a ghost!"

Pansy sneered.

"That's a pretty silly expression when you think about it about where we live."

Daphne nodded nervously.

"Yes. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

Her housemates looked at her as though she'd spoken to them in a different language. Before the group had time to react, she moved past them and made her way through to the girls dormitory.

She entered into her private dorm room, crossed the bedroom in four large steps and collapsed face-first into her pillow. She didn't bother turning the lights on as she entered.

What in Merlin's name had just come over her?

She couldn't control herself, one minute they were arguing, the next minute… If Professor Snape hadn't had interrupted them, Daphne feared to think what would have happened next. It was like a trance, like she was drunk on him. She'd never been that intimate with anyone before and much less a complete stranger.

Yet, it had felt so bizarrely right at the time. In that moment she had wanted nothing more than him, all of him. It only lasted for a few seconds, but in those seconds the world and its rules had melted away and all she wanted in that moment was him. Just Potter. She didn't know why and hadn't questioned it at the time, but now she was left to deal with the consequences.

She rolled over and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Puberty decided to hit her at the most awkward time, clearly. The points on her body where she and him had become intertwined still felt glowing. The worst part was it wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation. It was late, but she definitely needed a shower.

Why was it Potter, of all people to make her feel like that? He was good looking, sure, but she'd been all over him.

He'd seen her weak. She degraded herself acting like that around him. What in Merlins name had come over her? If other people saw her like that... if he told people how she'd been like putty in his hands... The reality of the situation was obvious to her. If her status in school was to stay unchallenged, she had to make sure whatever happened tonight would be taken to the grave. Both of their graves.