Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR owns it all. Her world fascinates me, though.
The Ice Queen Who Never Was
Daphne Greengrass never had any illusions about herself – she knew that she was an exceedingly ordinary person.
Despite being a part of a world which revolved around the extraordinary, she had no difficulty accepting that she would always be average, just another face in the crowd to her contemporaries, touching the lives of only a few people.
She was a Pureblood witch, of course, but her family wasn't really rich or famous – her father ran a magical farm, enough to get their family by comfortably – she'd never had to sully her hands doing labour.
In fact, she and her sisters had grown up rather pampered, but at the same time, they had been told of their status – neither too high, or too low, they were the true Middle Class of the Magical Society.
And that was naturally the hierarchy followed in Slytherin House. Honestly, she'd been rather surprised that the Hat had placed her there – her sister, of course, had been placed in Ravenclaw, what with her obsession with learning. She, on the other hand, had become part of Pansy Parkinson's group of followers, not that she minded. She didn't mind that she was terribly powerful or intelligent, either. She did well enough in her tests, and was proud to say that she'd never gotten below an Acceptable in any subject at all.
No, she was perfectly content, gossiping with her friend Tracey Davis about the boys of Hogwarts, the latest fashion, and nodding happily to whatever Pansy said every once in a while. She was content to let her leader think for her sometimes, especially when it came to Potter.
She'd worn the Potter Stinks badges because Pansy had worn them and told her to do the same, and she'd jeered and laughed at Potter because it was expected of her to do so. Truth be told, she was a pacifist, and she had no desire to seek out fights with Gryffindors at all.
So she was naturally a bit startled when she was placed with Potter in Potions in the beginning of Fifth Year. They'd spent over four years in class together, and she'd never said a word to him directly. So she did as Pansy expected of her, and sneered and cracked a joke about 'Potty' and told Pansy about it later proudly.
What she never told Pansy about was the tiny crush she'd had on Pott – Harry, for many years. It was obvious; every witch her age had developed a crush on him after hearing the tale of the Boy-Who-Lived in their childhood. On top of that, the Greengrass family had never been dark, so she really had nothing against him.
Besides, he did cut a rather heroic figure – going up against Dragons, rescuing girls from Merpeople (she had spent many an idle History class fantasizing about her instead of the French girl), and it was natural for her to have a crush. She'd imagine them getting together, her, a Slytherin, and Potter, the Gryffindor Golden Boy, and giggle. In her fantasies, she was the formidable Ice Queen of Slytherin, beautiful and unattainable, and he was the gallant Gryffindor – and their romance was as unique as it was sweet. Of course, she'd brush these silly notions off off when her friends asked her about her giggling and faraway looks, but that spark of attraction remained nonetheless.
Of course, he was rather kind and humble as well, no matter what Draco and Snape said. She'd heard that he'd helped Marsha Rowlin, a first year Slytherin, to find her way to Charms even though she was a Snake. Merlin knew that Draco would curse a firstie Gryffindor seven ways if he found him lost in a corridor.
So her crush on Harry was naturally justified – and it only grew with his rebel attitude and later, with his declaration as the Chosen One. Harry Potter was a celebrity, and who had not had a crush upon a celebrity one time or the other?
And when her seventh year finally came, she'd made her mind up. Her father, bless his soul, had always told her that when it was all said and done, everyone was equal, regardless of blood status. So she'd stayed and fought, and she knew that she had been influenced by Harry Potter in her decision – after all, if her crush and hero could do what was right and not what was easy, why couldn't she?
After all, is that not the influence of celebrities on the common masses – on the young and impressionable?
And finally, when the Battle was over, she'd had the most stunning idea.
She'd heard how Harry and the youngest Weasley had gotten together last year, and she'd sighed and taken it in stride. After all, Harry was a celebrity, and Weasley looked nothing short of a Model with her toned figure and flowing red hair, so it was obviously a match made in heaven.
But they'd broken up, hadn't they, leaving Potter open to the advances of all the girls in the world – even her.
So, with the adrenaline of the fight and the victory still running through her, she'd hatched a crazy, impossible plan – she'd go up to Potter, do a Weasley, and snog him silly, damn it all to hell!
She giggled and blushed, imagining how she'd tell her children about it years later, and her dark-haired, green-eyed husband would chuckle along with her.
She may not be as pretty as Ginny Weasley, but she did have curly blonde hair, and rather nice blue eyes, if she said so herself. Others would describe her as pretty, but with a vapid expression, but she paid those thoughts no heed. Besides, after all these years of fighting and adventure, Harry needed someone he could come home to, not someone as glamorous and wild as Weasley.
So she'd taken a deep breath and set out with determination to find and kiss the brains out of Harry Potter –
But she'd been beaten to it by Ginny, who'd spotted Harry as the same time as her, and then rushed down the corridor past her – like she'd never noticed her – and straight into Harry's waiting embrace.
After staring awhile, she'd simply smiled and walked away, good-naturedly cursing herself for allowing her to take her foolish daydreams to such an extent. Her father had raised her to be a grounded person, and here she was, building castles in the air, instead of getting word to her family that she'd survived the battle and come out victorious.
And she'd accepted then that she was simply average Daphne Greengrass, just a face in the crowd to Harry Potter – in fact, he probably didn't even know her first name. While fantasies about celebrities were all well and good, she finally accepted that to the common witch like her, fantasies were all they'd be.
But years later, when she'd wake up early in the morning to find the rain pitter pattering against the window pane, she'd sit on the bed and look out towards the grey skies, and think about what could have been all those years ago, if she'd been just a bit faster.
And then she'd shake her head slightly to rouse herself and smile, before putting on the tattered robe that Robbie had given her six anniversaries ago, which she'd fallen in love with.
She knew that her husband loved pancakes on rainy days before he flooed into the Ministry to deal with Broomstick Regulation and whatnot, and she had no business dreaming about the lives of celebrities when there was work to be done.
Authors Note: The idea about looking out of the window and fantasizing about what could've been came to me when I was listening to Don't Leave the Light On by Belle and Sebastian. A plot came to my mind from there, and who better to use than possibly the most abused minor character in Fanon History, the Ice Queen of Slytherin?