Hello, folks. Thank you for sticking with me for so long. As I do like to think, I always favour romantic stories which are slender and less melodramatic. Hence the reason why I held up the outside war from affecting Harry and Daphne's budding relationship. But, now, it's going in. And I'm sorry, folks, but I've already decided upon the number of chapters for this particular beloved story of mine. I won't extend it further and kill the sweet mood. So, this is gonna end in Chapter no. 6. Now's chapter no. 4. So, let's start on, and I again thank all of you who reviewed. Oh, and I deviated from the cannon a bit about a specific character's godfather ;) I figured, that as a fanfiction writer, I was entitled to. :D Keep reviewing and thanks again for the encouragements!
"Tonight you seem to be troubled." Daphne commented as she closed her eyes and leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, feeling the wind on her face.
Harry Potter looked up, his face pensive, from where he sat precariously on the railing. He wondered why Daphne had not fussed upon seeing him in such a dangerous position. Hermione would've. Molly would've. But Daphne did do many of the things those two never did.
For one, she didn't mother Harry, but Harry still knew that a Wingardium Leviosa would catch him true if he fell.
And that made him love her more.
Yes, Harry had realised long ago, that it was no crush, no simple infatuation, that made him come back to the Tower again and again and again.
For one thing, Harry really didn't understand why he loved her. Was she beautiful? Some were more beautiful than her, in and out of Hogwarts. Was she in his side? He knew not. She could be neutral, for all he knew. Was she brave? He knew not. She could turn tail and run when War came. But he also did not know that. Practically, he knew nothing about her.
But he wanted to know about her. And he had never wanted to know anything about Cho, no more than he had wanted to snog her.
In fact, the whole definition of love was changing in front of Harry. Was it merely holding hands, snogging? Or was it something else? What did he feel for Cho? Why did it end immediately after she started acting like a hosepipe? What had stopped him from seeing through it all, that he was just a rebound?
He had found the answer. He had been just a boy. However much he fancied himself to have become mature, he had not. He had not understood what emotions were. He had only understood when to duck and shoot spells and run for cover better than his peers.
And wasn't that what had led Tom Marvolo Riddle down his dark path?
For Harry knew very, very well, how close he was to the path, having seen Riddle's gradual transformation into what he was now. For Harry had often taken things for granted, the way they happened, and never stopped to really think of the people who caused it to happen. The lack of that perception is what made Daphne an enigma to him; and the realisation of that lack was what no longer made Daphne an enigma to him. He knew very well, now, why she did what she did. Why she would not acknowledge him in the hallways during school hours. Why she would free herself of her restraints only on moonlit nights such as these.
For she was a serpent in a pit of snakes, who, though might be nothing compared to her, still possessed enough poison to bite her with.
Both outside, and inside Hogwarts.
How strange life was! Harry almost laughed out. Now that he knew that his life would either end in, or include murder, he could see things differently. And he could see, well, how life had demarcated their boundaries for themselves.
For they were on different planets of the same universe.
One, would not be able to breathe in the other's planet. Except an oxygen mask, that would make it pretty uncomfortable.
Even if Harry won, the world would not let him retire to peace and be with Daphne. Harry knew that well enough. Wherever they would be, they would be hunted for.
And Harry had no intention of Death coming for them as two people cowering in a house protected by a fidelius.
And if Harry lost…well, that thought was the result in itself.
But again, Harry wasn't thinking of emotions.
Did Daphne really want him the way he wanted her?
That, Harry marvelled, he did not really know, for Daphne's posture gave nothing away.
So instead, he chose to stare hungrily at her, to forever brand in his eyes the image of her, standing by the railing, awash in the moonlight, hair dancing a ballet on her forehead, lips parted slightly, eyes shining like evening stars.
Was this Love?
His strand of thought was broken by Daphne's question, and he turned at her to answer.
(line break)
A thought had been continuously ploughing its way across Daphne's mind.
Did she love Harry Potter?
Certainly, Potter had been nothing she had either heard, or expected him to be. She had not expected him to be stuck-up or arrogant(she wasn't blind that she'd think that) but she had thought that she'd fish out his ego for sure. Surprisingly, she had failed.
Many deaths had been centred around him, and he seemed to have died a little each of them had happened.
His eyes were no longer the shining joy of emerald pools that she had seen in her first year; now, they were dark, haunted with failures, and an eerie knowledge of what might come to be.
But she also knew that he was somebody who was infinitely more dangerous than he seemed to be. For he was unpredictable, and had a twisted nobility with it that would slowly become his fatal flaw. Daphne could identify the traits. The underlying desire to save everyone, that he could, and to feel weighed down because of those he couldn't, would haunt him to his last days, she could say.
And he had a dangerous world around him, the same reason there would never be any them.
Never had she wanted to be so selfish. Never had she wanted to just stun him, tie him up, and disapparate somewhere safe, away from the eyes of the Wizarding World, and make her his.
For she knew he loved her. She had seen that in his eyes. The only thing that kept his eyes from turning a killing-curse green was his love for her. That gave him hope. Which still kept his eyes emerald, and as Daphne hoped, his spirit intact.
Presently though, he answered her question.
"I did tell you about Voldemort's horcruxes, Daphne?" Harry asked quietly.
"Yes." A shiver crept up Daphne's spine. How Tom Riddle had walked down the path to become Voldemort…..Harry had told her that, fully.
"Dumbledore wants to take me along to destroy one. He's found one." Harry's voice was emotionless.
"You're taking one step towards destroying your mortal enemy. Don't you feel satisfied?" Daphne probed.
"I feel…empty." Harry said, staring at her.
Daphne's eyes questioned further. He said, "I am destroying part of somebody's soul." As he said the words out loud, Daphne caught up with his understanding of the meaning.
"This is not an adventure, not a wishy-washy dramatic Shakespearian theatre, Harry Potter." Daphne's voice became softer at the end, "But just….do your work, and-and..come…back." She turned her face away.
Harry stared at her for some seconds, and then approached her, and hugged her from behind, placing his face on the crook of her shoulder. He stared at the moon from there, and thought he could be like that forever: he and Daphne over here, in the moonlight, sharing a moment, all fears forgotten, reality forgotten.
But that was not to be, because Neither could live while the other survives.
"Would you ever become like him, Harry? Do you never want to cheat death?" Daphne asked in a moist voice.
Harry turned her around, and studied those sapphire orbs of her eyes, and said, "I have done all that becomes a man, Daphne. Who dares do more, is none." He softly kissed her forehead, feeling a strange bliss in the tornado of anticipation that was his soul, and detached himself from her.
"Don't steal lines from Macbeth." Daphne admonished him, and then said, "I really do not feel good about this adventure of yours, Harry. Do you have to go?"
"Something tells me something shall happen, and things shall change fast, regardless of what I do or don't. I have to face him some time, Daphne, it's better I start facing him now, even if they be parts of his soul." Harry said in a tired voice, and then turned, and walked to the Astronomy Tower's door.
Daphne did not stay any more on the Astronomy Tower. She came down soon after him. It was lucky she did. She fortunately did not witness Harry Potter's anguish as Albus Dumbleodore's body fell from the tower in front of him, later that night.
(line break)
It was late in the night that she had got the news. She immediately ran to the grounds, and saw him out near the gates, staring at Hagrid's burning hut.
"It was all a hoax, Daphne." Harry said in a tired, hopeless, dejected voice. "We failed. I failed again. Somebody again died for something worthless."
Daphne just held his hands, understanding, he was in no position to hear any consolation. His greatest mentor, and protector, had just died. The assurance, that somebody was up there, looking after things, at the helm of things, and was mentoring him to take the purpose, had finally been uprooted.
Harry Potter had himself lost all hopes: who will he give hope to?
Daphne softly said, "Nothing is ever lost, Harry. You knew all your life since you entered Hogwarts that this was coming. You would have to face him at some point or the other, you said yourself."
Harry softly nodded. "So go forth and finish your work, Harry. Make this place a better world. Make sure that nobody again dies a worthless death. Make sure that you don't die a worthless death, dejected, hopeless, sitting in a corner, swarmed by Death Eaters and the Voldemort! Do not go gentle into the good night, rage, rage against the dying of the light, Harry!" Daphne said to him.
Harry's mouth twisted in a strange smile as he held her close. "You stole from Dylan Thomas?" he asked in a half-whisper.
"I do steal for people I love, Harry." Daphne said before she even registered what she was saying.
Harry's dark eyes suddenly paused, and then sprang to light, a light of such brilliance that Daphne momentarily averted her eyes. The smile in his face transformed the dark demeanour of Harry into something that burned into Daphne's very soul: something she would remember for ever. Suddenly, he was no longer a frightened boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs, or was under the threat of hounding by a Dark Lord. He was now a man who found his very essence drenched in the euphoria that his love was not futile; it was reciprocated! For the first time since losing any notion of love after his parents died, Harry understood the power of love that Dumbledore had so preached, as he breathed in the scent of Daphne and his eyes hungrily feasted on her, yearning to burn her very essence to his own soul, so that when he dies, he would not be separated from her. Daphne, after a while, returned the burning gaze.
Neither of them knew when the kiss came. It was slow, hesitant at first, then it was as if the entirety of universal life was poured into that one kiss, the entire passion of mankind-for something told them that this might be their first, yet, last kiss.
For Daphne knew well it was her godfather whose lips had uttered the words that had murdered Albus Dumbledore, but she knew Harry did not know it. And she also knew that Harry would know it, sooner or later. She knew her godfather. He had his reasons in what he might have been doing, and though she poisonously hated him for doing such a thing, still, she understood that somewhere, somehow, miraculously, Severus Snape hated what he had done, was doing, and would do. In fact, the only person that could ever reach her godfather's level of bitterness was the man she was kissing now. How similar were these two! Yet, she knew very well, that the latter had vowed a bloody revenge on the other, and was deadly determined to see it through. Daphne felt strange; indeed, it was strange to have your hopes fulfilled, realize the love of your life, and at the same time, have the dream falling around you in pieces.
Maybe after a billion years, they separated themselves, and Harry looked deep into her eyes, and stared. Then he said, "I've got to go."
Daphne nodded, and detached herself from him, and stood up, him copying the gesture. "Go, Harry." She softly said, "Go, and finish your work."
Harry nodded, and very tenderly, pressed a kiss to her temple, and pulled her to him, as she broke down on his chest. Harry understood that day what the ground felt when the sky broke into tears on it.
After a long time, Daphne raised her head, kissed him on the lips, and without another word, walked off, Harry standing motionless, staring as her figure became smaller and smaller in the darkness.
Later that night, Daphne got a familiar stag patronus in her almost deserted dormitory; many of the Slytherins had left quite fast, fearful of their ties to Draco Malfoy. The stag came up, and nuzzled her face, and opened its mouth as its eyes turned a brilliant emerald green. A familiar voice spoke out of it.
"Our paths diverge. Maybe someday, in a different world, in a different life, we will meet and laugh, cry, love, together. Do not search for me, you'll not find me. Flee, Daphne, flee. Stay safe somewhere, you know where to be. These are dark times, and I hope I can still return. Even if I can't, I shall, still, love you. You're my flame in the dark, you're my hope, Daphne. Don't snuff yourself out, instead, burn bright. I love you. Farewell."
The patronus vanished without a sound, as did the phoenix who had been singing the lament of its master's death all this while.
