Chapter 173: Daphne Greengrass
Phineas nodded and asked again,
"So, where is she now? I'm curious—why did she send Draco to speak with Harry? Does she truly believe that the Malfoy family, no longer a sworn family, is something the Greengrass family can afford to provoke?"
Astoria shook her head and didn't answer, but the look in her eyes made it clear—she didn't agree that the Greengrass family was incapable of challenging Malfoy. After all, the Malfoys had fallen from grace and were now reduced to a single direct bloodline.
Phineas studied her expression, understood her thoughts, and said with a quiet shake of his head,
"If we're comparing just the Malfoy and Greengrass families, then yes—the Greengrass family is indeed stronger."
Draco, who had been listening in silence, went pale. But he couldn't deny the truth. It was exactly because the Malfoys were no longer what they once were that he had obeyed Daphne Greengrass's request and gone to speak with Harry—despite his father Lucius's explicit warning. Offending the Greengrass family, especially one protected by the Pureblood Council, seemed far more dangerous than upsetting Harry.
"But," Phineas added calmly, "have you forgotten that two out of the three members of the Malfoy family carry Black blood?"
The moment those words left Phineas's lips, the atmosphere in the compartment grew cold and heavy, like frost had crept in through every crack. Anyone present could tell—Phineas wasn't simply stating a fact. He was issuing a warning. The Greengrass family would be wise not to treat the Malfoys as disposable pawns. In that moment, Phineas also made clear: the Malfoys had the protection of the House of Black.
But in truth, Phineas had deeper reasons.
While it was true that Narcissa and Draco were born of Black blood, the power behind them wasn't truly from the Black family anymore. It was from the Rich family—an ancient and powerful pure-blood house that held sway over many others. When Phineas inherited the House of Black, the family's power had waned. Like sharks drawn to blood, the other families—many of whom had once supported Voldemort—began circling, eager to feast.
And it was the Rich family—once Black's rival—that those other pure-blood families now saw as their anchor.
Phineas even suspected that the Dark Lord's meteoric rise to power had been aided, in no small part, by Rich family resources. Lucius Malfoy had served Voldemort faithfully, and that placed the Malfoys squarely within the Rich sphere of influence.
And now Daphne Greengrass had maneuvered Draco into a confrontation with Harry—intentionally or not—using him as a pawn. That move gave Phineas the perfect opening to interfere. A chance to sway the directionless Malfoy family toward House Black. This was a rare opportunity—and one he could not afford to waste.
What Phineas said today in this small, unremarkable train compartment would spread like wildfire among the pure-blood elite. And once it did, Lucius would no longer have the luxury of staying neutral.
A voice suddenly rang out from the doorway, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Well, the young master of House Black certainly knows how to be arrogant."
It was a girl's voice—clear and sharp. Draco, who already looked like he might faint, went completely rigid. Astoria's normally calm face showed a flicker of unease.
Phineas turned to see who had spoken.
The girl standing there bore a striking resemblance to Astoria: golden curls, pale skin, blue eyes. But the resemblance ended there. Where Astoria's gaze was thoughtful and mild, this girl's was calculating, ambitious. Her high cheekbones and narrow face made her look severe, and her eyes were sharp with an intensity that bordered on cruel.
Daphne Greengrass—the eldest daughter of the Greengrass family.
Phineas offered a small, amused smile. He crossed his arms and looked down at her from his full height.
"Whether I'm arrogant or not, we'll see. But I do wonder—what will your father say when he hears that you've positioned Greengrass against House Black?"
For a moment, Daphne's mask slipped. A flicker of discomfort passed across her face.
Phineas noticed and gave a faint smirk as he dropped onto the seat beside Astoria. He looked up at Daphne, still standing stiffly near the door.
"I'm curious," he said, "what exactly were you trying to achieve by using Draco? Were you trying to push Harry into open opposition with the rest of the pure-blood families? Because if so, that's not just foolish—it's dangerous. You do understand what the House of Potter represents, don't you?"
He watched closely as Daphne's confident expression wavered.
"You don't know," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "You truly don't. Which means… using Draco to provoke Harry wasn't a calculated move by the Greengrass family. It was your decision alone."
That hit the mark. Daphne's face changed, revealing confusion and the first signs of panic.
"Heh…"
Phineas let out a dry, almost disappointed chuckle.
"I'm very curious now. When the other pure-blood families find out what you've done—how you single-handedly pushed the House of Potter into isolation—what will they think of Greengrass? I assumed, wrongly, that your family had a long game in mind. That you were willing to oppose the entire pure-blood society for some hidden strategy. But no—it turns out you simply led your own family into the fire."
He shook his head, not without a trace of regret. Daphne clearly had potential. Her schemes weren't amateurish. But she still thought like a child—acting on impulse, with no thought to the long-term consequences for her family.
And that, Phineas thought grimly, was the most dangerous kind of clever.
Still, her motives remained unclear. Why had she done it?
Had it not been for Sirius still rotting in Azkaban—and Peter Pettigrew's betrayal—Draco's behavior might very well have turned Harry against the Black family too.
And that, Phineas knew, would've been an irreparable mistake.