Muggle-Raised Champion

They're Going To Want A Show

Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

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7:45am

Saturday, 31 December 1994

The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

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Movement in his peripheral vision, combined with Neville stiffening beside him at the Gryffindor table, told Harry that something was about to happen. Ominously, he turned his head and immediately felt his stomach begin to churn as though an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies had just taken up residence there.

"Hi, Harry," Daphne said and immediately went back to chewing her lower lip, an indicator of the nerves that she was also feeling.

"Hi, Daphne," he managed to croak.

He'd been anticipating and dreading this meeting for nearly the past week, ever since the Yule Ball, which coincidentally also happened to be the last time that they'd seen each other. Not that that was a surprise. Finding out that the person that you were coming to trust the most in this strange new world, the one that you liked the most, held such diametrically opposed viewpoints to you was something of a shock, to put it mildly.

And so, Harry had hid. He had no illusions that that was exactly what he was doing. He may have tried to fool himself into thinking that he was busy building that platform for Professor Flitwick, but he was hiding, plain and simple. Not that his brain ever really shut off.

He'd spent days and sleepless nights going over everything that Daphne had said, as well as what Madam Maxine hadn't said trying to understand. And when he added in his very first morning in the Great Hall and meeting Draco Malfoy and hearing his beliefs, what he came up with was something ugly, something right out of the Victorian Age.

Everything had been tossed around in his brain until he had come to one startling decision: Daphne, just like he was, was a product of their culture, upbringing and environment. Their beliefs were simply a part of who they were and, while he might not agree, if he twisted his mind the right way, he could sort of understand where she was coming from.

"Can we talk?" Daphne asked.

Harry's eyes darted around the hall. It was still early on a Saturday morning, which meant that there weren't as many people there as there could be. But the eyes of every one of them was currently fixated on Harry and Daphne. Harry knew the rumours that were bounding around the castle – Neville had reluctantly given in to his urging to be told. These people were all waiting for the show to start.

"How about we go outside," Harry suggested.

At her nod, Harry rose and together they walked from the hall. Not a word was spoken between them until they reached the shore of the lake, their tracks in the snow the only ones around, assuring Harry that they were quite alone.

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted.

Daphne looked at him, but before she could say anything, he continued.

"I'm sorry for walking out on you at the Ball. It was incredibly rude of me. You were my date and I treated you horribly."

"I probably shouldn't have said what I said, either," Daphne said softly.

"I've been giving it a lot of thought," Harry began.

"So've I," Daphne said softly.

Harry inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her statement.

"I think that what we have here is a significant culture clash," he said. "There's a lot about the wizarding world that I find incredibly hard to understand, let alone accept, with the culture that I grew up in and I daresay that it's similar for you? That there's a lot about the non-magical culture that you don't understand either?"