The mortifying ordeal of falling in love with your entire secret study group

7th year: Daphne

Felix Felicis turned out to be both a headache and a joy to brew, and the warm glow of the finished golden potion felt like the first sun rays after a cold night.

Spring came slowly to the Scottish highlands, and on the wings of sunlight and warmer days came the first of May.

On the wings of a dragon, Hermione and her friends escaped Gringotts.

"Daphne?"

Hannah Abbott's voice asked carefully. Daphne pried her fingers off the midday special edition of the Daily Prophet. The paper crumpled sadly and fell to the table next to her half eaten potatoes.

"The dragon was sighted north of London," Hannah continued quietly. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," Daphne said. "Dragons fly wherever they want to fly."

Hannah wrung her hands and bit her lip, a nervous tell if Daphne knew anything. "All I'm saying is that should Harry – Potter, Weasley and Granger, I mean... Should they come to Hogwarts, are they not students as well? And therefore... you said you'd protect the students inside the castle."

Daphne very purposefully did not ball her hands into fists. She turned back to her potatoes and stabbed one with her fork. "Yes, I did say that."

Hannah still fidgeted.

Draco, next to Daphne, snorted. "Abbott, you have your answer. Go run to your overgrown cat friends."

"Uh, okay," Hannah said and left.

"Really," Draco drawled, doing a good job of pretending the paper hadn't scared him, "you'd think they wouldn't have to ask."

Daphne sighed. "She's right to worry. Were it not for Snape, we'd be under much more scrutiny, and if, when, we mess up, Snape will inevitably fall with us. Then what?"

The irony of Snape, of all people, becoming a trusted adult. Maybe Neville Longbottom would turn out to be a potions prodigy.

The afternoon classes passed tensely. The entire castle was in high spirits, for good news about Potter had been scarce. Yet Hannah remained the only one who directly approached Daphne to ask about allegiances.

Neither paper nor rumours delivered with owls upon owls could say what had been stolen or why. The wildest stories about Potter made the rounds, from Hippogriff tattoos to the Sorting Hat rescuing him from the Basilisk. Daphne knew of the Horcruxes, so she could come to an educated conclusion as to what was missing from Gringotts. Hermione had hopefully burned the object, and they were one step closer to victory. However, as long as Potter distrusted everyone but himself and Dumbledore, and the chances of the Order of the Phoenix ever trusting Daphne were in the minus, her friendship to Hermione had to remain secret.

Daphne's plans for this summer: kidnap Snape, threaten him into helping, and kill Voldemort herself – but it would have to wait until she could be sure her friends would be safe. She couldn't do it while still in school. Hogwarts being attacked was, quite frankly, a worst case scenario, and it was she, Theo and Blaise who had kept Voldemort's cruelty out of these halls. For now, school was her priority.

An hour after dinner, Snape's voice filtered through the halls. He ordered everyone to the Great Hall, which was how Daphne knew that shit was about to go down.

Her Dark Mark started burning like it was a fresh brand, which was the other indicator.

The tables were pushed to the walls, and Snape motioned Daphne, Theo and Blaise to join him on the dais with the teachers' table. The teachers, tellingly, stood to the side of the room, with the students, in various states of non-formal dress. Every student was accounted for – even the third year who had been treated by Madam Pomfrey after a herbology incident was there, the healer at his back.