u/Devil_s_Advocate_

Daphne's Chosen One

It was a well known fact in hogwarts that Astoria had a crush on Draco. The news finds its way to the Greengrass parents, only somehow it's a distorted version where it's Daphne who is holding affections for the Malfoy boy.

Her parents panic. Draco's character...was well-known. They did not want the prejudiced prick to be dating their daughter.

Mama Greengrass decides to take matters into her own hands. What's the best way to stop a teenage girl's affections for some boy? Why, just find a way to point those affections towards a different boy! Papa Greenrass didn't like the plan, but he was overruled.

Daphne was annoyed. Why were her parents trying to get her to date a "proper boy"? She had zero interest in dating the idiots at her school. Or so she thought.

Neville was Mrs Greengrass' "subtle" recommendation, the "Chosen One": being a pureblood, rich, and meek/demure. But just like a certain Dark Lord that chose a half-blood all those years ago, Daphne instead finds herself attracted to Neville's friend: Harry Potter.

Daphne Greengrass has known since childhood that she is bound by a marriage contract to the future heir of the House of Black. She has always assumed that means Draco Malfoy.

So, from the moment she arrives at Hogwarts, Daphne makes a point of establishing exactly what kind of wife she intends to be. If Draco is going to be her future husband, she refuses to let him-or anyone else-mistake her for a meek, obedient pureblood daughter.

She bullies him. Not cruelly, perhaps, but relentlessly.

Draco and his usual entourage-Crabby, Goyel, Theo Nott, and Pansy Parkinson-quickly become frequent targets of Daphne's carefully calculated attempts to assert herself. She challenges Draco in class, undercuts his posturing, refuses to be intimidated by his friends, and generally makes it very clear that if she is eventually forced to marry him, he is going to have to learn to deal with her.

Not to mention how she clowns on Malfoy's gang when it comes to academics.

Then sixth year arrives, and Daphne discovers that she has been wrong about one rather important detail.

The heir of the House of Black isn't Draco Malfoy.

It's Harry Potter.

Which leaves Daphne with a problem.

She had spent years preparing herself to deal with Draco Malfoy: a spoiled brat who ran crying to his parents the moment things didn't go his way.

How exactly is she supposed to assert herself over someone who takes on three-headed giant dogs, basilisk-es and dragons, stands up to dark wizards; and is delusional enough to think he's destined to kill Voldemort? There was an air of danger around him that made her think he was handsome.

Not objectively handsome.

Harry Potter had untidy hair, an unfortunate wardrobe, and un-stylish glasses. Daphne had standards. She had eyes. She knew what handsome looked like.

So whatever this was, it couldn't possibly be attraction.

Potter seemed to find her weak attempts to intimidate him rather adorable. And she could not find it in herself to be properly rude to him when he was being such a gentleman. He did tease her sometimes, but it was playful. She coud tell. She was starting to wonder if Potter was genuinely just a nice boy who liked her. Or at the very least, found her not un-attractive.

Daphne Greengrass has known since childhood that she is bound by a marriage contract to the future heir of the House of Black. She has always assumed that means Draco Malfoy.

So, from the moment she arrives at Hogwarts, Daphne makes a point of establishing exactly what kind of wife she intends to be. If Draco is going to be her future husband, she refuses to let him-or anyone else-mistake her for a meek, obedient pureblood daughter.

She bullies him. Not cruelly, perhaps, but relentlessly.

Draco and his usual entourage-Crabby, Goyel, Theo Nott, and Pansy Parkinson-quickly become frequent targets of Daphne's carefully calculated attempts to assert herself. She challenges Draco in class, undercuts his posturing, refuses to be intimidated by his friends, and generally makes it very clear that if she is eventually forced to marry him, he is going to have to learn to deal with her.

Not to mention how she clowns on Malfoy's gang when it comes to academics.

Then sixth year arrives, and Daphne discovers that she has been wrong about one rather important detail.

The heir of the House of Black isn't Draco Malfoy.

It's Harry Potter.

Which leaves Daphne with a problem.

She had spent years preparing herself to deal with Draco Malfoy: a spoiled brat who ran crying to his parents the moment things didn't go his way.

How exactly is she supposed to assert herself over someone who takes on three-headed giant dogs, basilisk-es and dragons, stands up to dark wizards; and is delusional enough to think he's destined to kill Voldemort? There was an air of danger around him that made her think he was handsome.

Not objectively handsome.

Harry Potter had untidy hair, an unfortunate wardrobe, and un-stylish glasses. Daphne had standards. She had eyes. She knew what handsome looked like.

So whatever this was, it couldn't possibly be attraction.

Potter seemed to find her weak attempts to intimidate him rather adorable. And she could not find it in herself to be properly rude to him when he was being such a gentleman. He did tease her sometimes, but it was playful. She coud tell. She was starting to wonder if Potter was genuinely just a nice boy who liked her. Or at the very least, found her not un-attractive.

Harry gets shot down by Cho, and Daphne unfortunately witnesses the whole thing.

In a split second decision borne out of second-hand embarassment and a bit of pity, she invites the glum boy to eat ice-cream with her while attempting an awkward, meant-to-be-light-hearted consolation.

Very smooth, she scolds herself, while watching Harry try to stammer out a response. If he rejects her invite, her embarassment would no longer be second-hand.

Harry is so embarassed someone saw him, that he accepts without thinking, just to put an end to the conversation.

And now both wonder, "What now?", enroute to the kitchens.

Harry gets shot down by Cho, and Daphne unfortunately witnesses the whole thing.

In a split second decision borne out of second-hand embarassment and a bit of pity, she invites the glum boy to eat ice-cream with her while attempting an awkward, meant-to-be-light-hearted consolation.

Very smooth, she scolds herself, while watching Harry try to stammer out a response. If he rejects her invite, her embarassment would no longer be second-hand.

Harry is so embarassed someone saw him, that he accepts without thinking, just to put an end to the conversation.

And now both wonder, "What now?", enroute to the kitchens.

Daphne was flabbergasted.

The lakeside picnic had been going perfectly until her hat blew into the branches of a tree overhanging the water. Naturally, her boyfriend had declared that climbing it without magic was "manly."

She had to admit, watching him climb shirtless had been rather enjoyable.

Until he'd slipped and vanished into the lake.

Before she could process what had happened, a radiant lady emerged from its depths.

"Fair maiden, hearken well. Before thee stand three gallant suitors, each more worthy than the last. Choose whom thou wouldst have as thy beloved, and forsake the one the waters have claimed."

Three young men appeared before her. Each bore her boyfriend's features, yet none of them was her Harry.

The Lady swept an elegant hand toward the first.

"Behold! This champion is the mightiest wizard in all the realms. None may equal his prowess, nor his charm. The greatest witches of every nation have flocked unto him, and six-and-thirty fair maidens now dwell together in bliss, each content to share his affections."

Daphne glanced at the muscular, broad-shouldered Harry with perfectly straight hair and a glowing aura of power surrounding him.

"He's dating thirty-six women?" Her voice was dripped with disgust.

"Indeed! Such is the measure of his irresistible greatness. Surely thou canst see that fortune smileth upon thee this day."

Daphne wrinkled her nose.

"No. I like my skinny Harry with the messy hair. And I certainly don't fancy sharing him with thirty-six other women."

The Lady blinked.

"Verily? Thou dost prefer... exclusivity?"

"I'd prefer my Harry."

The Lady ignored her grumble and moved to her next pitch.

"Then mayhap this noble soul shall better please thee. He is the Master of Death itself, before whom even mortality must bow."

"That sounds terrifying. Straight out of a muggle horror movie. Hard no."

The Lady frowned thoughtfully.

"A curious maiden indeed... Very well. Cast thine eyes upon this final champion. He didst conquer the whole of the magical realm, and men spake his name in dread as the Dark Lord Potter."

"Merlin, no. I've already lived through one Dark Lord."

The Lady stood silent for a moment, clearly bewildered.

Daphne folded her arms.

"Quit your bullshit and give me my Harry."

"...Thou wouldst refuse all three?"

"Yes."

"Even knowing each to be a specimen most surpassing thy own beloved?"

"Who decided that? You?"

Daphne took a menacing step toward the lake, wand in hand.

The Lady hastily raised both palms.

"Prithee, stay thy wrath! There remaineth one final virtue of which I have yet to speak..."

She leaned forward and lowered her voice to an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper.

"...Each is... how shall I phrase it... abundantly blessed in the hidden measure of manhood."

Daphne stared at her increduously.

"Then you can hook up with all the three off-brand Harrys at the same time for all I care."

The Lady recoiled as though slapped.

"Good heavens! I most certainly cannot! I am a maiden divine, untouched by mortal embrace!"

"Sounds like a you problem. Now stop trying to pawn off your bargain-bin Harrys to me and give me my boyfriend back."

She raised her wand, a poisonous green glow flickering at the tip.

"Nice lake you've got here. Would be a shame if some basilisk venom found its way into it."

Daphne was flabbergasted.

The lakeside picnic had been going perfectly until her hat blew into the branches of a tree overhanging the water. Naturally, her boyfriend had declared that climbing it without magic was "manly."

She had to admit, watching him climb shirtless had been rather enjoyable.

Until he'd slipped and vanished into the lake.

Before she could process what had happened, a radiant lady emerged from its depths.

"Fair maiden, hearken well. Before thee stand three gallant suitors, each more worthy than the last. Choose whom thou wouldst have as thy beloved, and forsake the one the waters have claimed."

Three young men appeared before her. Each bore her boyfriend's features, yet none of them was her Harry.

The Lady swept an elegant hand toward the first.

"Behold! This champion is the mightiest wizard in all the realms. None may equal his prowess, nor his charm. The greatest witches of every nation have flocked unto him, and six-and-thirty fair maidens now dwell together in bliss, each content to share his affections."

Daphne glanced at the muscular, broad-shouldered Harry with perfectly straight hair and a glowing aura of power surrounding him.

"He's dating thirty-six women?" Her voice dripped with disgust.

"Indeed! Such is the measure of his irresistible greatness. Surely thou canst see that fortune smileth upon thee this day."

Daphne wrinkled her nose.

"No. I like my skinny Harry with the messy hair. And I certainly don't fancy sharing him with thirty-six other women."

The Lady blinked.

"Verily? Thou dost prefer... exclusivity?"

"I'd prefer my Harry."

The Lady ignored her grumble and moved to her next pitch.

"Then mayhap this noble soul shall better please thee. He is the Master of Death itself, before whom even mortality must bow."

"That sounds terrifying. Straight out of a muggle horror movie. Hard no."

The Lady frowned thoughtfully.

"A curious maiden indeed... Very well. Cast thine eyes upon this final champion. He didst conquer the whole of the magical realm, and men spake his name in dread as the Dark Lord Potter."

"Merlin, no. I've already lived through one Dark Lord."

The Lady stood silent for a moment, clearly bewildered.

Daphne folded her arms.

"Quit your bullshit and give me my Harry."

"...Thou wouldst refuse all three?"

"Yes."

"Even knowing each to be a specimen most surpassing thy own beloved?"

"Who decided that? You?"

Daphne took a menacing step toward the lake, wand in hand.

The Lady hastily raised both palms.

"Prithee, stay thy wrath! There remaineth one final virtue of which I have yet to speak..."

She leaned forward and lowered her voice to an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper.

"...Each is... how shall I phrase it... abundantly blessed in the hidden measure of manhood."

Daphne stared at her increduously.

"Then you can hook up with all the three off-brand Harrys at the same time for all I care."

The Lady recoiled as though slapped.

"Good heavens! I most certainly cannot! I am a maiden divine, untouched by mortal embrace!"

"Sounds like a you problem. Now stop trying to pawn off your bargain-bin Harrys to me and give me my boyfriend back."

She raised her wand, a poisonous green glow flickering at the tip.

"Nice lake you've got here. Would be a shame if some basilisk venom found its way into it."

"Father."

"Daphne."

He was hungover. The last person he wanted to see today was his estranged daughter. Then again, most mornings since the damned war began with a hangover.

"Harry will be contacting you soon."

Why would the brat want to speak with him? He'd made his opinion of the Man-Who-Won abundantly clear. He told her as much.

"You know why," Daphne said, meeting his eyes meaningfully. "We're ready to take the next step in our relationship."

Oh. OH. Absolutely not.

"No! I forbid it! You're only twenty-five! You need to break it off with the Potter brat-"

"Save your breath, Father," she cut him off. "The only reason I'm here is because Harry respects parental bonds far more than you deserve."

Rage flared in his chest. How dare she speak to him like that?

"The coward sent you to soften me up first, did he? Too afraid to face me himself?"

Daphne planted both palms on his desk and rose to her feet.

"He doesn't know I'm here. I'm not even supposed to know he's planning to propose."

She held his gaze without blinking.

"He'll come soon to ask for your blessing. This is your last opportunity to repair your relationship with me - and with my future husband." Her voice softened only a fraction. "I pray you choose wisely, Father."

She turned and strode from the study, the door slamming shut behind her.

He turned toward the cellar door longlingly.

He needed a drink.

"Father."

"Daphne."

He was hungover. The last person he wanted to see today was his estranged daughter. Then again, most mornings since the damned war began with a hangover.

"Harry will be contacting you soon."

Why would the brat want to speak with him? He'd made his opinion of the Man-Who-Won abundantly clear. He told her as much.

"You know why," Daphne said, meeting his eyes meaningfully. "We're ready to take the next step in our relationship."

Oh. OH. Absolutely not.

"No! I forbid it! You're only twenty-five! You need to break it off with the Potter brat-"

"Save your breath, Father," she cut him off. "The only reason I'm here is because Harry respects parental bonds far more than you deserve."

Rage flared in his chest. How dare she speak to him like that?

"The coward sent you to soften me up first, did he? Too afraid to face me himself?"

Daphne planted both palms on his desk and rose to her feet.

"He doesn't know I'm here. I'm not even supposed to know he's planning to propose."

She held his gaze without blinking.

"He'll come soon to ask for your blessing. This is your last opportunity to repair your relationship with me - and with my future husband." Her voice softened only a fraction. "I pray you choose wisely, Father."

She turned and strode from the study, the door slamming shut behind her.

He turned toward the cellar door longlingly.

He needed a drink.

Draco does a double-take when he sees Greengrass in a Gryffyndor jersey, sitting in the stands next to other Slytherins. "Colluding with the enemy, Greengrass!?" he screamed shrilly, much too surprised to use his practiced manly drawl. Good thing his voice was drowned out by cheers and boos. Apparently he had missed Potter grabbing the snitch.

He waits for the boos around him to die down. He nods to his goons Crabbe and Goyle, and they begin shouldering through the crowd, making way for him. Just as he reached Greengrass, he accused her "Colluding With the enemy, Greengrass!?". But his voice was once again drowned out by screams, and he was pushed back by a mini-stampede. People were running away from Greengrass. A ring formed around her as Potter came hurtling down to her on his Firebolt. Did the Pottyhead lose his mind? Just as he braced for the crash, Potter grabbed Greengrass, expertly manouvering her to have her sit sideways on his lap, and took off into the air.

He was lost for words, as he watched Potter whisper something in Greengrass's ear as they made off into the sunset at a more gentle pace. He heard a giggly voice say: "The Golden Snitch may have won me the match, but you’re definitely the better catch." A short Ravenclaw was standing next to him, giggling to herself watching Potter and Greengrass. She looked uncannily like Greengrass, only brunnette.

He belatedly realized she had her wand pressing into his crotch. The look in her eyes made him freeze-up and scream. But no one seemed to hear him. Again. "Localized notice-me-not and silencing charms", explained the little Ravenclaw.

"Daphne will collude, or cuddle with the enemy as she pleases", she continued.

"If you get in the way of my sister's happiness, I will end you."

Truth or dare tends to be a bit more serious business for wizards, compared to the muggles. It is usually played with a drink spiked with a mild truth potion.

Harry, blissfully ignorant, joins his classmates in common room for a game. While mugg;eborns tend to get a warning regarding the spiked drinks, no one thought to extend the courtesy to a half-blood like Harry.

Parvati was the one who set things in motion, asking him a basic-bitch question: who he thinks is the hottest girl in Hogwarts. Immediately, a blonde girl's face flashed in his mind, while he pretended to think it over.

Harry was gonna go with a safe answer. Fleur was in the castle, and no one would think twice of anyone calling the veela fit.

But what left his lips was something different.

"Daphne Greengrass".

Lavender squealed. Romilda gasped. Ginny dropped her butterbeer. Ron clutched his chest like someone stabbed him in the heart. Everyone else looked shocked.

He was fucked. Greengrass would hear it before lunch the next day. Heck, the whole school would. But especially Greengrass.

Truth or dare tends to be a bit more serious business for wizards, compared to the muggles. It is usually played with a drink spiked with a mild truth potion.

Harry, blissfully ignorant, joins his classmates in common room for a game. While mugg;eborns tend to get a warning regarding the spiked drinks, no one thought to extend the courtesy to a half-blood like Harry.

Parvati was the one who set things in motion, asking him a basic-bitch question: who he thinks is the hottest girl in Hogwarts. Immediately, a blonde girl's face flashed in his mind, while he pretended to think it over.

Harry was gonna go with a safe answer. Fleur was in the castle, and no one would think twice of anyone calling the veela fit.

But what left his lips was something different.

"Daphne Greengrass".

Lavender squealed. Romilda gasped. Ginny dropped her butterbeer. Ron clutched his chest like someone stabbed him in the heart. Everyone else looked shocked.

He was fucked. Greengrass would hear it before lunch the next day. Heck, the whole school would. But especially Greengrass.

Daphne acts like a model student: polite and demure. She does it to maintain appearances and look the part of a pureblood heiress. Everyone is succesfully fooled, except maybe Tracey and Astoria.

She gets paired with Harry in Potions. Of course Snape would put him with a slytherin. Their first class as partners went terribly.

Harry wondered how she managed to be civil to him even after he messed up their potion in Snape's class. He was expecting her to blow-up, and he probably would have deserved it. She did micro-manage his work every class after that though, which was annoying.

One fine evening, when he had fucked off to an empty classroom to avoid the love-struck Ron and mopey Hermione, he sees Daphne enter the empty classroom and lock the door and cast another spell at the far wall that he didn't recognise. She'd have to fully do an about face to see him, as he was lying down in a blind spot behind some overturned benches.

Just as he wondered what was going on, Daphne unleashes a torrent of violent spells towards the wall, while ranting about all sorts of things: Pansy being a catty bish, Transfiguration being a chore, Granger getting top marks despite being a mudblood, Tracey hooking up with Blaise and not having time for her, her father being stingy not increasing her allowance, Potter being a fool who doesn't know the basics of potions, Astoria flirting with Malfoy even though he was a death eater etc etc

Harry could ignore the jab at him and Hermione, but he couldn't ignore the bit about Malfoy. So, without thinking, he interrupts her. And gets a spell thrown at him. Thankfully, Greengrass had shit aim.

Now, how to get her to tell him more about Malfoy?

• DOI/PMID/ISBN: https://publications.aiche.org/cep/2017/january/use-thermography-expose-whats-hidden

• URL

Harry and Daphne are happily married, with 2 children, when they find out one of them have a marriage contract (could be either of them) they will be forced to fulfil. Now, the Potters are desperate to protect their marriage and family from the claws of evil marriage contracts. Even if it means threatening and assassinating a few influential people.

Oh, and maybe they start a war with the goblins.

Harry's Deathly Hallows come handly.