Chapter Text
“What’s this?”
Daphne rolled her eyes, ignoring the warning squeeze of Sue’s hand.
It had been Sue’s idea to give Granger a gift for her birthday, and Daphne would be damned if she acted as though she was happy about the decision. She didn’t know the Gryffindor girl, didn’t particularly like her, and certainly didn’t want to make any overt gestures of friendship before she’d made her mind up about the girl.
“It’s a present,” Sue said with a hesitant smile. “Daphne owl-ordered it for us when we realised how quickly your birthday was coming up. We weren’t sure what you’d like, but we thought you might enjoy something to keep track of our journeys while we’re abroad.”
Granger’s brows furrowed slightly as she carefully opened the present Sue had handed her, and Daphne watched as the furrow slowly turned into an expression of pleased surprise. Her deep eyes widened, her lips parted and, though her warm brown skin didn’t let anything show, Daphne could have sworn she was blushing.
“I–” Granger started, clearing her throat when her voice came out strangled. “This is a very thoughtful gift, but I don’t even have a camera to fill in all these empty spaces. I’ve never– I don’t think I’ve ever had a photo album.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that!” Sue grinned, having thought about everything. “I’m already planning on being our volunteer photographer! My parents got me a better camera when they found out I’d been picked for the Programme, and I thought it’d be nice to share it with everyone else.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Granger said softly, her fingers tracing the cover of the album reverently. “Thank you Sue. Thank you Da– I mean, Greengrass.”
She aimed her smile at Sue first but, when she turned its full force onto Daphne, it hit her square in the chest. It was a beautiful smile.
Thankfully, Daphne had never let pretty faces distract her before.
Professor Lupin was running late, and Daphne gave herself less than five minutes before she took her wand out and hit Macmillan with a spell that would finally get him to stop talking.
The boy was more irritating than anyone she’d ever met before. His arrogance knew no bounds, to the point that Daphne felt herself missing the familiarity of Draco’s ego. It didn’t help that every time he spoke, she was reminded of the mixture of devastation and anger that darkened Hannah’s features anytime someone so much as mentioned her ex-boyfriend.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Sue whispered reassuringly, casting a worried glance in Daphne’s direction. Her right hand had moved to hold onto Daphne’s left one tightly, but it seemed Sue was aware she wouldn’t have much success restraining Daphne if a fight broke out.
To Daphne’s right, Macmillan prattled on about his prowess at Duelling and the research he’d done about the foreign schools.
“Macmillan,” Daphne said lowly. “No one cares about your skills or your infinite knowledge. If you would care to stay quiet until Professor Lupin shows up, you’d be doing yourself a huge favour.”
“I’d be doing–”
“She’s telling you to shut up, Macmillan,” Sue rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Professor Lupin will be here shortly. In the meantime, why don’t we…”
She trailed off, shooting a panicked look at Daphne then turning her gaze towards Granger, whose eyebrows were furrowed. When neither girl offered a suggestion, she grumbled and threw her free hand up in the air.
“Nous pouvons apprendre– enseigner– utiliser notre français,” she huffed. “A much better use of our time, no?”
“Why don’t you practise with Macmillan?” Daphne asked sweetly, standing and gently pushing Sue onto her empty chair before her friend could so much as think about protesting. “Granger and I have plenty of experience, and it would be a shame for the two of us to waste time on French when we should be working on our Norwegian.”
Sue gaped at Daphne but, a sigh later, seemed to accept her temporary position as Macmillan’s babysitter, guardian of Daphne’s sanity.
With that taken care of, Daphne closed her eyes and let out a relieved breath, intending to meditate whilst they waited for their chaperone to make an appearance.
“It’s Hermione.”
She opened her left eye and glanced lazily at Granger, whose jaw was set, determined.
“I refuse to be put on the same level as that– that nitwit,” Granger hissed, tilting her head towards Macmillan, whose French was annoyingly decent, if far too loud for comfort. “You call Sue by her first name, and I don’t want to be put in a boat with Ernie, of all people.”
“Well,” Daphne snorted, letting her head loll in Granger’s direction and opening her right eye to look at her properly. Granger swallowed thickly, and Daphne’s snort melted into a grin. “You get points for calling him a nitwit. I suppose, if it means separating ourselves from him, first names aren’t the most terrible idea, Hermione.”
“Right,” Granger – Hermione – said, sounding almost breathless. “Thank you, Daphne.”
She shot her another one of her smiles, this one soft and fragile, and it was Daphne’s turn to gulp, her throat suddenly dry.
Hani had prepared her for this moment but, even so, Daphne found herself feeling incredibly overwhelmed as the Beauxbatons professors walked them through the school, very briefly introducing the different areas before moving onto their next point.
If she hadn’t been fluent in French already, she wasn’t sure how she would have handled the strange welcome they’d received. The professors had seemed content to ignore them, leaving them in the dubiously capable hands of their exchange partners. Perhaps this had worked for Hani and Lisa because they’d already known their partners before they’d arrived in France, but Daphne was not granted the same privilege.
She hung back with Sue and Hermione, their partners hovering uncertainly from one student to the next, their heavily-accented English interspersed with bursts of rapid French.
Amandine, Daphne’s partner, seemed like a perfectly fine human being, but she was struggling to keep up with their professors’ demands whilst also handling Daphne and Kirsten, the third member of their trio.
“Well,” Hermione breathed out. Daphne glanced at her, not having expected the first interruption to come from their Gryffindor counterpart. She’d thought Sue would be the first to break – her French was the weakest, and she’d expressed a certain apprehension about their trip to Beauxbatons. “This is certainly not the kind of introduction I was expecting.”
“Oh, you should get ready for more,” Daphne huffed out a dry laugh. Hermione glanced at her, gaze curious, and Daphne swallowed thickly at the intensity she found swimming in the other girl’s eyes. “Hani warned me the beginning might be a little rough. Apparently, the students are a lot better than the teachers.”
Hermione hummed. “I did hear about that. I figured… I don’t know, perhaps I hoped the school would have been asked to improve their hospitality for the second year of the Programme. I know Hogwarts had to make concessions.”
“Hogwarts was begging to get Dumbledore out of there,” Sue pointed out. “The Programme was simply a perfect excuse to finally take his power away from him. A headmaster with no control over his school.”
“All the better for us,” Daphne huffed. “For a while, my father thought he might manage to make it out of his Duelling Tournament blunder with no consequences. Despite how the Board is treating him, there are still too many people in his corner, willing to fight his battles for him and get him out of trouble when needed.”
“Well, he certainly couldn’t be trusted with the Tournament,” Hermione scoffed. Sue and Daphne glanced at her, matching surprise swimming in their eyes. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Forbidding Harini from using the full extent of her Magic was foul behaviour. I thought perhaps I could find a solution to the restriction before her duel, but the library was ridiculously unhelpful.”
“It usually is,” Sue pouted.
Her friend kept speaking, something about the many books from her family home that would never be allowed at Hogwarts, but Daphne didn’t hear a word she said.
Her gaze was fixed on Hermione, another layer of incomprehension settling over her heart and mind. She remembered the moment Hermione was talking about; she remembered how devastation had flickered over Hani’s features for just a second before melting away. She’d been told, later, about the confrontation the two Gryffindor girls had had in their dormitory. If Hani was to be believed, Hermione had been disgusted by the idea of Hani using Dark Magic.
If Hermione was to be believed…
Hermione’s eyes left Sue for a second, landing on Daphne. Her curiosity was reflected back at her, turning Hermione’s dark gaze into a gentle question.
Daphne looked away first.
The Beauxbatons exchange dormitory quickly became their favourite part of the castle.
Daphne knew, from Hani’s tales in France, that the previous group of students from their year had preferred the outdoors, but Daphne supposed they’d been lucky enough to experience the school during the beautiful springtime. As it was, the twelve of them weren’t fond of the temperamental weather, constantly oscillating between suffocating, humid heat and whipping wind and rain.
It was easier to stay inside. It helped them stay comfortable, and it helped them grow closer to each other.
They were less than two weeks into the Programme but, already, Daphne could feel bonds between them where there had been awkwardness before.
And she could sense, just as Hani had predicted, the ebb and flow of groups being created, friendships appearing and waning from one student to the next. There were Sue and Henrik, who danced around each other with their friends attached to their sides, Sonia and Cécile completed their quartet in perfect harmony. The four of them were even more glued to the indoors than the rest of them were; they explored rooms, giggled in the library, and lounged around in their common area at all times of the day.
There were Macmillan and Lauritz, the two remaining boys, determined to stick together despite their clashing personalities. Daphne had decided the best course of action with them was to ignore them altogether.
Then there were the rest of them. Six girls who would have never fit together if the conditions had been any different, but who were perfectly suited to each other in the context of the Programme.
Amandine, with her shrewd ideas, her passion for the things she loved, and her charming wit. Kirsten, with her gentle words, her steady presence, and her crude humour when the others weren’t listening. Ida, lively and bright and an echo of Lavender, her tongue sharp and her thoughts even sharper. Emilie, with her quiet demeanour, her studious nature, and the sarcasm that had stung all of them when they’d tried to convince her to leave her books behind.
And Hermione.
Daphne glanced at her surreptitiously, the same curious feeling buzzing through her as she watched Hermione deal cards for the game they were currently playing. Daphne had opted out, choosing to observe her friends’ actions until she was sure she grasped the rules, but she could still feel the energy of the evening wash over her as the other girls laughed and groaned as they examined their hands.
Hermione’s face was perfectly content, apparently just as happy to lose as she was to win. Daphne wondered if this was where she made up for her intensity at school; perhaps it was easier to care too much about a single thing if it meant she could relax in every other area of her life.
“Look, Daph,” Amandine nudged her, revealing the cards in her hand. Daphne whistled appreciatively, taking in her impressive display.
“Ah, ah, not so quick,” Kirsten tutted. Her French was the most accented out of all of theirs, but she’d insisted that they shouldn’t switch to English just because she was still trying to grasp a few basic concepts. “You owe me a card, Amande.”
“Stop with that nickname,” Amandine swatted at their partner, though she sighed and slid a card to Kirsten, who slid one back to her, blowing Amandine a kiss as the French girl groaned, revealing the ‘3’ that had been handed to her. “Morgane, you suck. Couldn’t even give me a four?”
“Maybe if you hadn’t bragged to Daphne…” Kirsten said innocently.
Daphne laughed at her new friends, goosebumps appearing on her skin when matching giggles echoed from the other side of the table.
Hermione met her eyes, mirth making her face even sweeter than usual.
It was happening more and more often. The longer they were away from Hogwarts, the more time Hermione spent with the group of girls in her class she’d claimed as her friends, the easier she smiled. The more she laughed. It was such a sudden change, it had caught Daphne and Sue completely off-guard.
Perhaps Daphne more so than Sue, since she was the one dealing with her before and after classes, when the exchange students left their classroom friends and instead found their preferred partners from the Programme.
She was seeing far more of Hermione than she had anticipated, and she didn’t know what to do with the girl’s invasion of her life.
She didn’t know if she minded.
“Daph?” Amandine poked her ribs again and Daphne snapped back to attention, her eyes flicking back to the cards in Amandine’s hands. “Thoughts?”
Daphne let herself get pulled back into the game, but her mind was stuck on the girl across the table whose eyes kept burning a hole into the side of her head.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Hermione jumped at the sound of Daphne’s voice, and Daphne bit back a pleased smile at having caught her by surprise. Most of the time, Hermione seemed to be prepared for anything, a plan always lingering at the back of her mind, her mouth ready to utter the exact words her partners wanted to hear.
But now, she glanced up at Daphne with wide eyes, her lips parted, and Daphne let her smile break free, enjoying the way Hermione’s pupils dilated.
“Absolutely not?” Hermione frowned. She was sitting on one of the outdoor tables, a book on her lap and multiple pieces of parchment spread in front of her.
“We’re going to the village,” Daphne explained, already gathering up the loose papers and stacking them neatly, exactly as Hermione liked them. “We’ve already gotten permission from Lupin and Dyrssen. The others are getting ready, and you know how much they hate waiting around.”
“Is everyone coming?” Hermione asked, a hint of annoyance creeping up her voice, and Daphne’s smile turned to a smirk.
“I think you hate Macmillan even more than I do, Granger,” Daphne teased her, handing the papers back to her and watching, satisfied, as Hermione tucked them into her satchel along with her discarded book.
“Yes, well, you’re not the one being paired with him during our Duelling sessions,” Hermione grumbled. “Besides, in case it escaped your notice, that boy is insufferable. It’s bad enough that I have to see him in our shared classes and the common room, but now I also have to tolerate him when I find solace outside?”
“He’ll have Lauritz with him,” Daphne shrugged. “Don’t you get your pretty little head in a twist because of him. I promise I’ll keep him away if he tries to take a stab at our group.”
Hermione huffed and sighed and complained some more as they headed towards the gates that would lead them out of Beauxbatons, but Daphne could tell it was mostly to keep the conversation flowing.
They were greeted by their boisterous group who welcomed them with laughter and smiles and excited exclamations, and Hermione was pulled away from Daphne as Ida tugged at her arm. The two of them linked arms and headed to the front of the group, where Sue and Henrik had taken the lead.
Kirsten held Daphne back as Macmillan and Lauritz bickered, joining the group on the winding road down to the village.
“Couldn’t leave her behind?” Kirsten asked, her smile devious.
“She’s our friend, in case it escaped your notice,” Daphne rolled her eyes, willing her cheeks not to heat. “It would have been rude of us to leave her behind whilst the rest of us enjoyed a companionable afternoon in the village.”
“Whatever you say, Daph,” Kirsten laughed.
She patted her cheek lightly, and Daphne felt her blush turn from pink to red, her skin suddenly too warm for her to live in.
“You’re awful,” she told her friend, but Kirsten only laughed harder.
And Daphne could have gotten back at her on their way to the village, could have prodded and joked and thrown a few barbs at her.
She could have.
But she couldn’t stop looking at Hermione, her eyes following her coils as the wind swept them to the side, her ears reaching out for the sound of her bright voice.
Daphne watched the waves come and go, sand tickling her toes as she absently traced patterns on the ground next to her.
To her left, Sue traced matching patterns, grinning at Daphne in between punchlines from Cécile and Sonia. The story had been dragging on for a while now, but the others were content to sit back, relax, and listen to their friends ramble on about an adventure they’d supposedly gone on just the week before.
Firelight flickered over their faces, shadows ebbing in time with the waves, and Daphne resisted the urge to close her eyes and fall asleep. The rhythm of the beach was tempting, but she didn’t want to miss out on a single moment with her friends.
Professor Lupin, Professor Dyrssen and Professor Wagner would come to fetch them soon, beckoning them back to their seaside house, and then they’d be herded to their bedrooms, ready for an early start at the cathedral the next day.
She didn’t want the night to end. Even Macmillan had been on his best behaviour, content to sit with the group and enjoy their presence without his usual self-centred commentary.
“Let’s play a game!” Sue said from her left.
She met Daphne’s gaze with a wink.
“Action ou Vérité?” Amandine suggested eagerly. The other French students grinned, nodding in agreement, but Daphne hesitated. She saw Hermione do the same across from her, whilst the others quickly translated the game in their minds and went along with Amandine’s plan. “Who wants to go first?”
Cécile volunteered, kicking them off by selecting Sonia as her target. Her friend laughed and chose a Truth, not even a tiny bit bothered when Cécile asked her to recount the story of her first kiss. It was an embarrassing tale featuring her parents, but Sonia seemed utterly unaffected, giggling along with the others by the end of her story.
It went on like that, most of them picking truths – with the exception of Ida, who happily accepted her dare to run into the water fully clothed.
Soaking wet, Ida sat back down in the circle and turned to Hermione, whose eyes widened at the sudden attention.
“Alright, Hermione,” Ida smiled. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” Hermione answered instantly.
Ida seemed to consider something, but whatever it had been, she quickly shook her head to dispel the thought.
“Who was your first crush?” Ida asked instead. “And I want details, because most of us here definitely won’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Ah–” Hermione froze, her mouth parted. She chuckled awkwardly when she noticed everyone’s eyes were on her, expecting an answer. “That would be Harini. She’s my– I’m her– We’re roommates. She was one of my first friends at Hogwarts. She’s quite… mesmerising.”
Daphne didn’t know why her heart skipped a beat the way it did. She wasn’t sure she wanted to analyse it and, thankfully, Hermione didn’t give her the time to do so. She was looking straight at Daphne, blurting Truth or Dare out as quickly as she could, clearly eager to get rid of the spotlight.
“Truth,” Daphne replied, not willing to subject herself to a Dare so early on in the game.
“Who was your first crush?” She asked, sighing in relief when finally, their friends turned to look at Daphne rather than her.
Daphne chuckled.
“Hani, of course,” Daphne grinned, watching as surprise, amusement, and something else appeared on Hermione’s face. “Like you said, she’s quite mesmerising. She’s also one of my best friends, though, and I’m glad that crush disappeared before any weird feelings could arise between us.”
“Damn, you guys will have to point this girl out to us at the Yule Ball,” Emilie whistled. “She must truly be something else.”
“I know Harini,” Kirsten volunteered. “She was in my class last year during the Programme. I’m sure she’d be lovely even if her hair was the dullest thing in the world, but the red makes her a little bit unforgettable.”
As noises of recognition travelled amongst the group, the Durmstrang students recounting their encounters with last year’s Exchange Students whilst the French group tried to recall anything about them, Daphne met Hermione’s gaze. Hermione was staring back at her, and something travelled between them then. An understanding, and maybe–
“Alright, alright, enough about all that, let’s keep going,” Macmillan interrupted them. There was a sneer on his lips, and Daphne suddenly remembered what Hannah had claimed about the boy.
Ernie’s also homophobic.
Daphne sneered back at the boy before moving on, picking Amandine as her target.
The moon was high in the sky by the time the question came back to her, having led to quite a few truths being spilled and more than a few dares being undertaken, some of them attracting the attention of their watchful chaperones. Thankfully, it seemed the adults were happy to let them have their fun for a while longer.
“Daphne!”
“Dare,” Daphne grinned at Kirsten. “Give me something good.”
“Oh, I will,” Kirsten said, raising an eyebrow at her, the hint of a challenge. “I dare you to kiss the person you like most here.”
Daphne’s breath caught. Without thinking about it, her gaze sought out Hermione. She was already looking right at her, fire turning her eyes into twin flames. Her lips were parted, her brows furrowed, her head tilted slightly to the side, as though waiting to see what Daphne would do.
She had such a pretty face. And she was so much more, so much–
Daphne turned and pressed a short kiss to Sue’s cheek, swallowing back something like regret as her friend wiped her face with a disgusted noise and pushed Daphne over into the sand.
When Daphne looked at Hermione again, she had a moment to catch the disappointment on her face before the other girl started laughing along with everyone else.
It was definitely regret, she thought, that coated her throat as she watched the game go on, wondering about the things she could have done. The choices she could have made. The person she could have kissed.
Daphne wasn’t a fool. She knew what crushes felt like, and she knew that every time she’d had one in the past, she’d been quick to smother the flame.
But she was in France. Hermione was in France. There was no one here to judge them except the rest of their exchange partners and, with the exception of Macmillan, Daphne doubted they would get any pushback. And, given how little the French students who weren’t their friends cared about them, she didn’t think they would cause scandal there either.
There was no reason not to push a little further, to see… whatever it was that existed between her and Hermione.
Which, of course, led to an entirely different problem.
“Well, you’re the one who didn’t take advantage of my perfect plan when I laid it out for you,” Kirsten said with a shrug when Daphne told Amandine and her about her dilemma. They were outside, enjoying the October sun while it lasted, lazing around as they waited for their only class of the morning.
“It was not a perfect plan,” Daphne scoffed. “Do you really think Hermione wants her first kiss with someone to be in front of the entire group?”
“Well, she certainly would have preferred that to what you ended up doing,” Amandine drawled. “No offence, Daph, but anyone who knows her well enough could tell she was disappointed when you chose Sue. Such a silly move.”
“You can gripe at me all you want, but I stand by my decision,” Daphne stated. Though she still regretted not kissing Hermione under the guise of a game, she refused to linger on it. What had happened couldn’t be changed. “Now, do you have any ideas I could actually use, or will I be on my own while I plan this out?”
“What is this, Daphne’s Wooing Plan 101?” Kirsten snickered, sobering when Daphne stared at her thoughtfully. “I was kidding!”
“Well, I’m not,” Daphne said seriously. “I like Hermione, and I’ve never done this before, so I’m going to need to go in with a plan. Ideas for dates, how to talk to her alone without you guys meddling, how to make sure she’s comfortable with everything. And I’ll need to send a letter to Hani at some point, to make sure she’s okay with it. Though, I guess I can at least wait until I’m sure Hermione is interested in me before I do that last part.”
Amandine and Kirsten seemed sceptical, but Daphne didn’t mind.
Eventually, they joined in with her planning, jotting down a few spots they’d noticed around the school grounds and castle that could be used for a date if need be.
It was definitely ridiculous.
It was possibly a little stupid.
But Daphne wasn’t like Sue, who had easily fit into her group and started connecting with everyone in her class. She wasn’t like Hermione, who flitted from friend group to friend group as the Programme brightened her, turning her into one of the most magnificent sights Daphne had ever had the pleasure to lay her eyes on.
She was the same Daphne Greengrass she’d always been and, for once, she thought perhaps she was doing something right.
She took Hermione to the hidden gardens. She took her to the library. She made sure they had time alone in the village. She helped her with homework, eagerly receiving advice in return. She spent nights in the common room, reading silently next to Hermione until, eventually, one of them fell asleep on the other’s shoulder.
When they went to Paris, Daphne let Hermione lead her into parts of the town she would never have explored alone.
She smiled more, these days. She loved France, and she loved– liked spending time with Hermione. She loved her friends, her classes – even those she only used to work on her Hogwarts assignments – and she loved the freedom the Programme gave her. Just enough to feel like a new person, with her Hogwarts classmates and cousins the only reminders of the rest of her life.
And then came her birthday.
She woke to owls, presents, letters, an inundation of love. And in the bed next to hers, Cécile grinned, wished her a happy birthday, and quickly ushered her out of their shared room, promising her there was more to come.
It was one of those days that felt surreal. She’d told everyone that she didn’t want a big party, and they’d all respected her wishes.
Instead, there was always someone different to keep her company between her classes and breaks. Somehow, despite the vastness of the castle and the usual difficulty they had meeting up, her friends had found a way to keep her company, to make her feel celebrated when she was so far from the people she would usually spend her day with.
Hermione was the last one to see her that day. She was waiting outside of Daphne’s Rituals class. Amandine and Kirsten winked at her before skipping away, their laughter trailing behind them like sunshine.
Daphne rolled her eyes at them before turning to smile at Hermione, the kind of soft smile she wasn’t sure looked right on her. She tried them anyway, because they never failed to make Hermione’s eyes shine.
“I have something for you,” Hermione told her, her voice as gentle as Daphne’s fragile expression.
She took Daphne’s hand as she led them out of the castle and into the courtyard, past the cafeteria and the younger students’ buildings. When they passed under a familiar archway, Daphne relaxed, recognising the path to the small secret garden they’d explored together after Amandine had finally caved and asked one of her well-informed contacts about the school’s most well-known date spots.
It was quiet in the garden now, the sound of the wind louder than anything else. It was another cloudy day, and most Beauxbatons students cared little for the bad weather. Luckily for Daphne, both she and Hermione were used to the drab sky and cold chill that Hani’s clothes easily bypassed.
“A surprise?” Daphne asked Hermione once they sat on the same bench they’d chosen the first time they’d visited the garden.
“A present,” Hermione chuckled. “I suppose you might consider that a surprise, though I think most people know to expect something when their birthday comes around. 16 may not be quite as big as 17, but there’s something special about getting closer to our last two years at Hogwarts. And it’s the only birthday you’ll spend in France until you graduate, so I thought it would be nice to get you a gift. I know we’ve only just– I understand I can’t make up for Harini and your other friends, but I thought this might help.”
She handed Daphne a parcel, her hands fidgeting, her gaze bashful.
It was shaped like a book but, when Daphne went to flip it over, something shifted inside. She made quick work of the wrapping, unveiling a simple wooden box, longer and larger than it was thick. It was, in a way, like opening a book.
But, rather than pages, what she found within was a collection of sketches, drawings, and small paintings. None were bigger than the page of a novel, but there was something about them, something familiar…
The subjects of the paintings were obvious: Daphne, Hermione, and the rest of their friends in the various locations they’d visited over the past month and a half. There was the beach, Daphne tipping her toes in the water whilst Amandine splashed her relentlessly. Plenty of sketches of them in Beauxbatons, outside and inside and in the village, everywhere they’d been. There was also a beautiful shot of Paris; Hermione and Daphne standing close together in front of the Eiffel Tower.
“Wha–”
“Sue’s been helping me a little,” Hermione smiled. “And–”
“Lisa,” Daphne breathed out, finally recognising the gentle strokes she’d only seen in Lisa’s paintings. Her friend preferred watercolours, and Daphne had always envied her ease with the pastel palette, soft where Daphne’s paintings tended to be harsher, bolder, vivid. “How’d you get her to help?”
“Sue, again,” Hermione shrugged. “She’s a great friend, and she thought it was a good idea. Most of the pictures were ones I took, but there were obviously a couple I couldn’t have done myself, so…”
Daphne stared at her, the drawings secure in her lap. Hermione looked back at her, the air shimmering between them.
Daphne wanted nothing more than to lean in, to hug her, to thank her, to do everything she’d dreamed of with Hermione. She could see the same desire reflected in Hermione’s eyes, and she wanted, she wanted .
“I–” Her throat was parched, her voice barely more than a whisper. Despite everything, a whisper lingered in her mind, one she couldn’t ignore. “I should send a message to Hani.”
“Harini?” Hermione frowned, caught off-guard. She started to slip away, to retreat, but Daphne took hold of her wrist to stop her. Hermione’s eyes were impossible to read, a hundred emotions passing through her before disappearing.
“There are things I want to do,” Daphne said quietly. “A person I– Someone who matters a great deal to me, who I would love to spend more time with. But Hani is my dearest friend, and there are many lines I wouldn’t cross if she drew them in the sand.”
“Oh,” Hermione murmured. Her skin was warm to the touch, and Daphne felt herself blushing. “I see.”
“Yes,” Daphne whispered. “You see.”
“So you’ll send her a letter, and then…”
“Then I’ll go and find that person I care about and ask them if perhaps they’d like to be more than friends.”
Hermione’s smile was so bright, Daphne almost lost her composure on the spot. Almost gave into the call then and there.
Instead, she sent a letter.
Daphne’s feet pounded against the stone steps, her heart racing as she flew down the stairs, into Beauxbatons’ courtyard, Hani’s latest letter pressed to her chest. The parchment was already wrinkling, but Daphne had someone to find.
She found her lying on the grass, her head tilted up towards the sky. It was another cloudy day but, after their Duelling lessons, Daphne had noticed that Hermione was reluctant to go back inside. She was too happy to see her now, too eager to go to her, to grumble about the weather and tell her to get back to their common room.
It took her ten seconds to reach Hermione, her shadow turning Hermione’s umber skin even darker.
She looked beautiful, her eyes blinking rapidly as she took in Daphne’s figure.
Before she could sit up, Daphne kneeled down next to her, placing Hani’s letter next to her, watching as Hermione’s eyes flicked to it then back to Daphne, a small breath escaping her as she did so.
“So?” Hermione asked, so quietly and delicately, Daphne wondered if she’d been expecting bad news all along.
“So,” Daphne replied, suddenly feeling utterly unlike herself. “So, Hermione Granger, I think you are beautiful. I think you shine brighter here than you ever have before, and I want to see more of you like that. I was ready to come here and avoid you but, instead, you’ve somehow weaselled your way into my heart and my life and my time, and now… Well, it turns out I like you there. I’d like for you to be there for longer than this, longer than France and everything it’s brought us. I’ve loved being your friend, but perhaps– That’s to say, ever since the beach, I’ve been thinking about–”
“You’d like to be ‘more than friends’?” Hermione teased her, echoing the words Daphne had whispered to her less than a week ago.
“Yes,” Daphne nodded. “Yes. I’d like to be more than friends. I’d like to hold your hand, call you mine, kiss you–”
“Alright,” Hermione breathed out. “Then what are you waiting for?”
And Daphne did what she should have done at the beach. What she’d wanted to do in the secret garden.
She leaned over Hermione, placed one hand in Hermione’s hair and the other on her cheek, and then she kissed her. It was warm, and slow, and so uncertain, and Daphne had no idea what she was doing, because even though she’d liked people before, even though she’d joked around with her friends about romance, she’d never actually kissed someone before, and now–
Hermione raised a hand to Daphne’s hair, pulling away before pressing another gentle kiss to Daphne’s lips, and perhaps that was all there was to it.
When they pulled away again, Hermione rested her forehead against Daphne’s, their chests rose and fell in unison, and Daphne’s skin tingled. Her heart skipped, settled, filled with joy she couldn’t have described even if she’d tried.
“I’d very much like to be your girlfriend, Daphne,” Hermione whispered.
And really, Daphne should have known this would happen from the very start.
Pretty faces had always been her downfall.