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Plot: After Harry's name is released from the Goblet of Fire, only Hermione seems to believe he didn't enter himself, that is until a chance meeting one day by the great lake. What will become of a Gryffindor and Slytherin trying to be friends with each other?

Pairing: HarryxDaphne

Chapter 1: Daphne Greengrass

Harry sighed and looked over the black lake of Hogwarts towards the Durmstrang ship. It hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours since his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, and it seemed as if no one, save Hermione, believed that he hadn't entered himself in the tournament. In a small way, he was somewhat used being the school pariah. During his second year, everyone had been accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin just because he could talk to snakes.

The students at Hogwarts weren't exactly the most accepting bunch of people in the world. Still, the worst of it was just some mocking jabs or a few glares that got sent his way, which was nothing he hadn't been through before. Compared to his childhood with the Dursleys, even his worst school day was a vacation.

What had hurt far more was when Ron had turned on him. A small part of him had mentally accepted that his friends always could turn on him, and prepared as much as he could for the possibility. Still, after everything he and Ron had been through, it hurt to know that he refused to believe Harry.

He was still running the redhead's words through his mind over and over again.

It's ok you know? You can tell me the truth. If you don't want everyone else to know, fine. But, I don't know why you're bothering to lie.

"I never wanted to be in this stupid tournament," he growled aloud, as if Ron could possibly hear him. "Now everyone at Hogwarts thinks I'm barking again."

He closed his eyes and leaned back against a tree. He often came here when he needed to think and couldn't fly his firebolt. What he really wanted to do was talk to Sirius, but his godfather was still in hiding as far as Harry knew. Honestly he wanted to talk to someone... anyone, and try to vent a little, but the only person currently talking to him was Hermione, and he didn't like setting her up to be a target for the rest of the school.

"You know," said a soft voice from his right. "They say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness."

Harry spun around and quickly pulled out his wand, his first spell already on his lips. When he saw who had spoken, he was immediately halted as if he'd been hit with a stunning spell. Staring at him, with her head slightly ċȯċked to one side, was Daphne Greengrass. She was a Slytherin in his year and while they'd never really talked much, he remembered that Hermione had mentioned that Greengrass usually did about as well in class as she did.

"A bit jumpy, aren't we?" she asked, smoothly nodding towards his wand.

He took a split-second to get a better look at her and noticed that while she was clearly focused on him, she didn't appear to be hostile. She didn't have a wand out, and if she had meant to curse him, she certainly could've done so a moment ago. He sheepishly put his wand away and looked at his trainers.

"Sorry about that," he said softly. "You caught me off-guard."

"I?" she said, a slight mocking air to her tone. "I caught the great wizard Harry Potter by surprise? Now that is high praise."

Harry felt his anger build at her words, but forced himself to remain calm. As he recalled, Daphne wasn't part of Malfoy's clique. So why was she talking to him? He knew more about her through reputation than any actual interaction. She was often called the Ice Queen, though he wasn't sure exactly why, although it had something to do with the fact that she didn't date anyone.

Can't exactly judge her at all for that one, he thought, thinking of his own considerable gap in any sort of romantic relationship.

She was fairly pretty, with pale blonde hair and a slender frame. She stood only an inch or so taller than he was, which surprised him slightly because he'd always been fairly short for his age. He noticed her eyes were sky blue, and though her face was impassive, her gaze was focused intently on him.

"It's Daphne, right?" he said, trying to be cordial.

"I'm surprised you remembered my name, Potter. Rumor around the Slytherin common room is that you consider yourself far above any snake."

Harry stared at her, slightly confused. It didn't feel like she was making fun of him, exactly, but she did have a slightly humorous tone to her words.

"Well, you can't always believe what you hear these days," he said, trying to match her way of speaking as much as he could.

It was a very odd exchange for him. He was used to speaking bluntly and was often very clear with his intent. Daphne was… different. It wasn't that she was mocking him or what he was saying, but she had a small smirk that indicated that something was funny.

"No, I suppose not, especially where you're concerned," she said, sitting at the base of the tree with her legs to one side. "You do seem to turn the world a bit wherever you step, Potter."

"I don't do it on purpose!" he said, feeling a little hot under the collar. "And I didn't enter myself in the tournament!"

"Oh," she said, closing her eyes nonchalantly. "I already knew that."

She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You… what? You don't think I did it?" he asked, curiously.

"Of course," she said, motioning for him to sit back down. "It wouldn't make sense for you to do so. After all, your family isn't the richest in Britain or anything, but one thousand galleons wouldn't make a huge difference in your funds, I imagine. The other reward is fame and prestige and, if you'll forgive my saying so, you never have been very comfortable in the limelight. Besides, what would the tri-wizard tournament give you in recognition that you wouldn't get as the boy-who-lived?"

Harry found himself slightly floored at her words. She was, of course, completely right. Granted, he really didn't know anything much about the state of his vault at Gringotts, but the prize money held no interest for him, neither did the fame. Slowly, he sat down, and felt a huge wave of relief crash over him. At least one other person in the school believed he hadn't entered himself.

"Thank you," he said softly, leaning against the tree.

"For what?" she asked simply.

"Believing me."

"I believe in logic, Harry Potter. The facts are: you managed to get yourself wrapped up in something big year after year, but you never seem to enjoy it. If you were the sort of prat Malfoy insists you are, then yes, perhaps it would make sense for you to intentionally do such things. However, you seem to me to be far too honest and too awkward with large groups of people to behave that way. Our second year with Lockhart was more than enough to prove that."

Harry flushed slightly.

"I suppose I've never really been very subtle."

Harry wasn't exactly sure whether or not he liked Daphne. She seemed to like to talk, and she believed he wasn't an attention-seeking prat though, and as things were, that was more than enough reason to talk with her.

"I would disagree," she said again. "You're rather cryptic to me. Oh sure, others speak for you often enough, as with Lockhart, or the papers this morning. However, you say very little about yourself openly. I think I'd rather like to get to know who you are, Mr. Potter, not just as the boy-who-lived or the Hogwarts champion."

"I… you want to be friends with me?" he asked, totally confused.

"Slytherins and Gryffindors are not friends," she said simply.

"Oh," said Harry, looking at his shoes again. "Sorry… I just…"

"So," she said, as if she hadn't paused at all. "I think I will like shaking up the established order of things with you, if you would like to be friends, that is."

Harry looked up at her and saw that while her face was still stony, her eyes were shining with something he recognized: hope. He saw it because he knew what if felt like to want to be friends with someone that bad. He doubted that Daphne was quite as lonely as he had been when he first came to Hogwarts, but he remembered the years he'd spent completely alone at his aunt and uncle's house.

Daphne held out her hand to him, as if conducting a business deal. Harry considered it for a long second. Normally, he likely would've been more cautious. He would've double and triple checked to see how this Slytherin girl would betray him to Malfoy, but she hadn't done anything but talk with him so far, and his options for friendship weren't exactly very vast at the moment. Besides, she had expressed the dėsɨrė to get to know him outside of all the fame.

He took her hand and smiled brightly.

"Pleased to be friends with you, on one condition."

She raised an eyebrow, and looked at him curiously.

"What condition would that be, Mr. Potter?"

"My friends call me Harry."

She smiled back, the first time he'd seen her do so as far as he could recall. Her blue eyes shown as she shook his hand. Her hand was very soft, and her grip was gentle, almost like silk in his hand.

"Well then, thank you for being my friend, Harry."

"Thank you for being my friend, Daphne."

She released his hand and checked her watch.

"We have defense with our new teacher before long. I expect I'll see you there."

"Oh, right then."

Without another word, she turned and began to head up towards the castle. He began to follow her, and as he passed the great hall, Hermione came running out to him.

"There you are! I was worried when I didn't see you. Where have you been?"

"I was… talking to a new friend," he said, smiling softly. "Actually you know her, Daphne Greengrass."

"Greengrass?" repeated Hermione, a look of surprise on her face. "Harry, are you sure? It's just… she's really closed off, you know? I don't think she'd close to anyone outside of Tracey Davis and her little sister, Astoria."

"H-how do you know all that?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Honestly Harry, have you paid any attention to anyone in our year that isn't a Gryffindor?"

"I… actually I suppose not," he admitted. "Still, can always change that now, can't I?"

"I suppose," she said as they walked up the grand staircase towards the defense against the dark arts classroom. "I hope Ron isn't too upset. He's never liked Slytherins much."

"Speaking of him, does he still think I put my own name in the damn goblet?" Harry asked, unable to keep the sour tone from his voice.

"Well," said Hermione slowly. "No… at least I don't think he does, really."

"What does that mean, not really?"

"Harry… Ron's jealous!"

"Jealous of what? He wants to die in a tournament with students three years his senior, does he?"

"No," she said, patiently, making Harry want to kick himself. "You have to admit, Harry, you always do end up being the center of things—Not on purpose! I know. Still, Ron's always wanted to be famous and rich, and I think this just sort of… set him off, you know?"

Harry growled again.

"That is… really, really stupid!" he said. "I get he's jealous but how can he let that come between us? I mean, he's supposed to be my best mate and everything!"

"Well," she said sadly. "I won't say he's not being a bit of a prat about it, but you know he doesn't really believe you would enter yourself Harry, he knows you too well. He'll come around, I think. It just… takes him a while."

Harry shrugged.

"We'll see," he said.

"All the same, I'm actually glad you made friends with someone outside our house, Harry. Besides, if anyone could use a friend like you, it's her. She's so closed off that I think you'll be good for her, and maybe she can finally help you think before you jump into everything."

"I don't…" he started, and caught himself. "Well, I suppose I do. Oh well, who knows what will happen with Daphne and I? All I know is if she really wants to be friends with me, I'm willing to try something new."

Hermione beamed at him as they reached the classroom.