“Harry!”
The voice was closer to a growl than a greeting.
Ron Weasley had stopped beside Neville, his face rapidly turning the same alarming shade as his hair.
“What is a filthy snake doing at our table?”
The atmosphere froze.
Harry’s expression instantly hardened.
Beside him, Hermione’s eyes flashed with anger.
Daphne, however, rose slowly to her feet.
The icy fury radiating from her was enough to make several nearby students stop talking altogether.
“Mister Weasley,” she said in a dangerously calm voice, “how dare you?”
At that exact moment, Ginny entered the Great Hall.
Seeing the confrontation, she hurried closer.
Daphne allowed several seconds of uncomfortable silence to stretch before continuing.
“What business is it of yours where I choose to sit?” she asked.
“However, since you’ve demanded an answer in such a spectacularly rude fashion…”
She lifted her chin proudly.
“Harry, Hermione, and I are bonded.”
The effect was immediate.
Ron looked as though someone had struck him across the face.
Ginny’s reaction was even more dramatic.
“No!”
The cry echoed through the Hall.
Tears instantly filled her eyes before she spun around and fled through the doors, sobbing.
A ripple of whispers swept through the students.
From the High Table, Professor McGonagall was already moving.
She had heard enough.
“Mister Weasley!”
Her voice cracked through the Hall like a whip.
The stern witch marched directly toward them, her expression thunderous.
“How dare you speak to another student in such a manner! Report to my office immediately.”
Ron stared at her in disbelief.
“But Professor—”
“No.”
“I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”
McGonagall’s eyes narrowed.
Ron pointed accusingly toward Daphne.
“But she’s sitting at our table!”
“Do you believe I am blind, Mister Weasley?” McGonagall demanded.
The entire Hall had fallen silent.
“Of course I can see where Miss Greengrass is sitting.”
She pointed toward the doors.
“My office. Now.”
Ron looked utterly betrayed.
Harry suspected Ron would have appeared less shocked if someone had confiscated every Chudley Cannons possession he owned and replaced them with Slytherin banners.
Muttering furiously under his breath, Ron stomped away.
Only once he had disappeared did Daphne sit down again.
“Thank you, Professor,” she said politely.
“That was rather unpleasant.”
McGonagall’s expression softened slightly.
“You have my apologies, Miss Greengrass.”
She glanced toward the retreating redhead.
“Mister Weasley and I will be having a very serious discussion regarding his conduct.”
Reaching into her robes, she withdrew a folded note and handed it to Harry.
“The Headmaster requests your presence in his office immediately after breakfast, Mister Potter.”
Harry accepted the note but didn’t even bother opening it.
Instead, he looked directly at her.
“As my Head of House, Professor, I’d like you to accompany us.”
That caught her completely off guard.
For several moments she simply stared at him.
Then she slowly asked, “Us?”
Harry met her gaze steadily.
“Yes, Professor.”
A flicker of curiosity crossed her face.
Finally she inclined her head.
“As you wish.”
“Please remain here until I return. I still need to distribute class schedules.”
Harry nodded.
As McGonagall walked away, Daphne lowered herself back onto the bench.
Harry turned toward the girls.
“Would either of you care to accompany me to see the Headmaster?”
“I think we have to,” Daphne replied immediately.
Her tone made it clear she considered the matter settled.
“We already know what he wants.”
Harry couldn’t exactly argue with that.
Unfortunately, peace lasted only a few moments.
From the Slytherin table came a familiar figure flanked by his two oversized shadows.
Draco Malfoy approached with all the confidence of someone who believed the world existed solely for his entertainment.
Daphne sighed.
“Again,” she muttered.
Then she leaned toward Harry.
“Let me handle the ferret.”
Harry smirked.
“Be my guest.”
Malfoy stopped in front of them and sneered.
“Well, well, scarhead.”
His grey eyes flicked toward Daphne.
“I hear our dear Miss Greengrass has bonded herself to you.”
His lip curled.
“What a tragedy. Such a waste of a perfectly respectable pureblood life.”
Daphne laughed.
Not a pleasant laugh.
Not even a polite one.
It was cold.
Sharp.
Utterly merciless.
“Oh, Draco.”
She shook her head slowly.
“How exactly did the Sorting Hat place you in Slytherin?”
Malfoy’s face tightened.
Daphne continued before he could interrupt.
“You’re impulsive.”
She counted on her fingers.
“Predictable.”
Another finger.
“Painfully obvious.”
Another.
“You charge straight at every problem like a reckless Gryffindor.”
Several nearby students snorted.
Daphne’s smile widened.
“Perhaps someone should buy you a dictionary.”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“So you can look up words like cunning, subtlety, and guile.”
The smile vanished.
“Because at the moment, you’re embarrassing the House.”
Silence followed.
The kind that only made the humiliation worse.
Malfoy’s face darkened.
“You’ll regret that, Greengrass.”
Then he turned sharply and stormed away.
Crabbe and Goyle hurried after him.
Once they were gone, Daphne looked at Harry.
“Does he always do that?”
“Pretty much.”
Harry shrugged.
“Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t threaten us with his father.”
Hermione giggled.
Daphne rolled her eyes.
“Maybe he’s finally expanding his vocabulary.” Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
That earned a genuine laugh from Harry.
A short while later, Professor McGonagall returned with a thoroughly disgruntled Ron trailing behind her.
The Gryffindor table was now nearly full.
Class schedules were distributed quickly.
Ron immediately chose a seat as far from Harry, Hermione, and Daphne as physically possible.
Harry considered that an unexpected bonus.
Earlier, Professor Snape had appeared long enough to hand Daphne her schedule.
The Potions Master hadn’t spoken a single word.
He had, however, managed to sneer at Harry with remarkable efficiency.
“Will you be remaining with the Slytherin timetable?” McGonagall asked Daphne.
“Or would you prefer to transfer to Gryffindor’s schedule?”
“I’ll remain with Slytherin,” Daphne replied politely.
“Thank you, Professor. Professor Snape already provided my timetable.”
“Very well.”
McGonagall turned toward Harry.
“I’ll return after owl post arrives. Then we’ll visit the Headmaster.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
The morning mail arrived moments later.
Harry received only a copy of the Daily Prophet.
Daphne, however, produced a letter she had written earlier.
A letter for her parents.
One informing them of the bond.
When Hedwig landed nearby, Harry gently stopped her from leaving immediately.
The snowy owl accepted Daphne’s letter without complaint.
In fact, after receiving several strips of bacon as payment, she seemed downright pleased with the arrangement.
A minute later, Professor McGonagall returned.
“If you’ve finished breakfast, Mister Potter, we should be going.”
Harry looked first at Hermione and then Daphne.
“Ladies?”
Both nodded.
Together they rose from the table.
As they moved along the wall toward the High Table, McGonagall glanced over her shoulder.
“I was under the impression the Headmaster wished to see only you, Mister Potter.”
“I’m sure that’s merely an oversight, Professor.”
Harry smiled politely.
“It doesn’t take a genius to work out what he wants to discuss.”
His gaze flicked briefly toward both girls.
“The bond concerns all three of us.”
Then, with an inviting gesture toward the exit, he asked,
“Shall we?”
McGonagall only frowned thoughtfully.
Without another word, she led the way from the Great Hall.
This year, the Headmaster’s office occupied a location on the third floor.
They reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance a few minutes later.
Professor McGonagall didn’t break stride.
“Gummy Bears.”
The gargoyle immediately sprang aside.
The hidden staircase began rotating upward.
Harry stepped back slightly and gestured for Hermione and Daphne to precede him.
The girls climbed first.
Moments later they emerged onto the circular landing above.
McGonagall had already opened the office door.
The four entered together.
“Ah!”
Dumbledore looked up from behind his desk.
His blue eyes twinkled pleasantly.
“Thank you for escorting young Harry to me, Minerva. You may go now.”
Harry’s gaze swept the office.
Professor Snape sat in his usual corner like an especially sour gargoyle.
Fawkes rested quietly upon his perch near a bookcase.
The Sorting Hat occupied a nearby shelf.
And despite the welcoming atmosphere Dumbledore tried to project, Harry could already feel the first moves of a familiar game beginning.