Daphne barely had time to register that they had finally stopped moving when she found herself supporting a sagging Harry Potter. They had just completed a rapid succession of apparations that numbered somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 different locations. She couldn't help but be impressed yet again by his stamina. In the best of circumstances that was an unthinkable feat of magic, but to have completed it after what she had witnessed him accomplish that night was nothing short of astounding. To put it mildly she was surprised he was still conscious. Still he seemed determined to continue a little farther. A quick glamour charm later and they both appeared to be fully clothed, though the draft around her legs proved that it was little more than an illusion. Once that little piece of business was taken care of he forced himself into a standing position and dragged her out of the alley and up the narrow street to a non descript looking building that advertised lodging. Though he didn't say much he seemed to know where he was going so she followed without protest. A short while later she found herself standing by as he had a quick conversation with an attendant in a language she couldn't understand. While she waited she observed her surroundings. The place itself appeared shabby at first glance. Upon closer inspection however she realized that it must have once been a grand place, but it was clear that over the years lack of attention had let it fall into disrepair. Still he was able to procure a room key and wasted no time in leading her up the rickety staircase in the corner and down a dingy hallway where he came to stop in front of a heavy wooden door with chipped golden paint that marked it as room number 17.
Daphne awoke the next morning with an ache in her side to an empty room. Harry had stolen his shirt back shortly after arriving and then put fresh bandages on her cursed gash. Moments after he renewed the numbing charm she had fallen asleep in the single four post bed in the room. The last thing she remembered was the sight of him slumped in an armchair in the corner, where he could see both the window and the door, with his wand drawn. She couldn't deny that it had given her a feeling of security knowing he was there, but now she found herself alone, with no clothes, and to top it all off she had no idea where in the world she was. Before she could continue along that line of thought she heard the door latch. She immediately grabbed her wand from the table only to find herself facing a smiling Harry Potter.
"Well good afternoon to you too," he commented wryly while cocking an eye brow. "Planning on lowering your wand anytime soon?"
"That depends on whether or not one of those bags you are carrying contains clothes for me to wear."
The fact that her wand moved from being pointed at his heart to his crotch wasn't lost on him as he hurried to answer the woman.
"Naturally," he commented lightly as he tossed her one of the bags. "After all not all of us could sleep away half the day. I figured I would make myself useful and rectify our clothing situations as well as pick some things to help heal that scratch on your side."
Harry allowed her a moment to rummage through his purchases while he pulled one of the armchairs from in front of the fire and dragged it so it was next to the bed. When he looked up from his new vantage point he saw her glaring at him askance, but he could tell by the twitch of the corners of her mouth that she was only being mock serious.
"You would buy me the shortest skirt you could find."
He simply laughed. "Of course, I don't know any of your sizes so the sales lady said a skirt was the safest bet."
"And the length?" she enquired.
"Well honestly that was my idea. I just felt it would be a crime to hide any more of those gorgeous legs than absolutely necessary." With that he winked at her.
Before she could give him a well deserved dressing down he interrupted her by pulling the bag out of her hands and tossing it into the corner.
"We can argue about my sense of fashion later. For now let me finish working on your side so it can begin to heal properly," he said while he set the other bag next to his chair. "Come on lay down on the bed," he continued, patting the side right in front of him.
She complied. He did deserve a good berating, but truth be told she found she didn't really mind him looking at her body that way. He had made several comments about physical attributes since their meeting the night before and although he had blatantly flirted with her in the intervening time she could tell he wasn't saying things just to flatter her. Everything he said was done so with an air of humor and honesty that she could hardly be angry with. Besides the pain in her side had been worsening since she woke up and she was anxious to be done with it.
While she was reflecting he began pulling things out of the remaining bags. By the time she brought herself back to the present he was holding a mortar and pestle and was surrounded by several small paper boxes and phials of ingredients.
"Now there are a couple things we need to discuss." Harry stated as he began adding ingredients to the mortar and grinding them into a paste. "We didn't have time to discuss this last night, but we need to decide on what the best course of action is right now."
Daphne didn't speak. She just continued looking at him attentively and quirked any eyebrow inquisitively when he paused so he took it as a sign to continue talking.
"I told you I would get you someplace safe and I will, but I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that. At the moment both Dumbledore and Voldemort are injured and will need time to recover, but that won't last for long. I think at this point it would be safe to assume that both will know of your involvement and will be looking for you. Unfortunately for them, for the moment at least you are beyond their grasp."
Here his hands stilled and he hesitated in his explanation to continue working on her wound. She was lying in front of him covered by one of the bed sheets. Slowly he pushed the edge of the material away until her abdomen and lower chest was exposed revealing the offending injury to him.
As he packed the paste into the gash which was bleeding again he continued talking. This was going to be painful for her. Using magic to dull the pain again wasn't possible with this treatment because it would render the paste inert and useless so he hoped what he was saying would distract her enough to ignore most of the discomfort.
"That, however, doesn't impede their ability to attack you. If they can't find you they will go after your family. One will attack with subtlety the other aggressively, but either way they are now in danger. We need to meet with your parents and explain the situation so we can discuss the best options for all of you."
Daphne's side was on fire. The salve he had pushed into her wound hurt more than she remembered the original wound feeling. Still that didn't detract in the least from her reaction to what she was saying. The longer he spoke the more somber her mood became and the more her eyes seemed to unfocus.
For his part Harry finally noticed her reaction and stopped speaking only to continue now with a worried interrogation.
"Daphne, Daphne what's wrong? Is your side alright?"
The sound of her name seemed to bring her around and she thought how best to answer. She wasn't a fan of revealing to much personal information, probably a side effect of her slytherin status for the last 7 years, but she had little choice in the matter at present so she finally looked at him.
"No. I mean yes my side hurts, but that's not it."
He noticed the look in her eyes and had a feeling he was all too familiar with the direction this conversation was going. He recognized the look of despair and helplessness with a border of absolute rage. It was a look he had seen many times in his life and truth be told had worn far too many times himself.
While he was examining her she had begun to speak again and he hastened to pay attention.
"My family is dead. He attacked Diagon Alley soon after the tri-wizard tournament. They were among the first casualties after Voldemort's return. They weren't important enough for him to kill personally, but that doesn't make them any less dead."
He could tell the pain in her voice wasn't from her injury. Well not completely anyway. Still there wasn't much you could say to something like that.
"I'm sorry." It was said so softly she almost wasn't sure she had heard it.
"Too many innocent people have died already, and many more will join them before this is over. All we can do is remember the ones we lose and honor them by living while we can." He finished.
And as empty as those couple of half-assed placating words would seem coming from anyone else, she found that when he said them she felt a little better. She had had almost 4 years to come to terms with the loss of her family so she could understand what he was trying to say. He wasn't promising things would get better, in fact he was plainly saying they wouldn't be for awhile. But he was telling her that life went on. The thing that made it appealing was his absolute conviction. She could tell by his response that he had lost others as well, and she didn't think it was his parents whose absence he was remembering with obvious clarity if his far away expression was anything to go with.
Once again she found herself curious about him. Where had he been in the time since his disappearance? Why was everyone so plainly arrayed against him? What was he going to do now? As she studied him once again, she found herself doing that a lot, she realized he seemed to be having some form of internal debate with himself. Her line of thinking ,however, was brought up short when she noticed his brilliant emerald eyes focused on her once again. It appeared as though he had come to some sort of decision.
"As terrible as it seems this simplifies things immensely. I originally wanted to find somewhere safe for you to hide, but alone and isolated you wouldn't survive long if they ever managed to find you and even if they didn't I doubt your sanity would allow you to remain away until this world has sorted itself out." He told her.
She sat up a little and immediately regretted it as a sharp pain coursed through her once again. It seemed to be getting worse. Still she would worry about that in a moment. For now he had her complete attention.
"You have proven that you are powerful, resourceful, and if your response to the situation so far is anything to go by adaptable. So if you would like, you can come with me. At least for awhile," he finished quietly.
She had apparently heard his change in tone because he soon found himself be covered by her penetrating grey eyes.
"And what would that mean? Going with you I mean." She asked.
"Well I'm not going to lie to you, it will involve learning, fighting, killing, evading, escaping, and if we're very very lucky, surviving." He tried to end the statement with a laugh, but failed spectacularly. He didn't seem to notice the failed attempt he was far more focused on her reaction.
"Well," she drawled, "You certainly know how to show a girl a good time don't you. Why do I get the feeling you are asking me for much more than I am aware of?"
She saw his posture relax and she realized he was relieved that she seemed to pick up on this.
"Don't worry I won't let you make the decision uninformed. Let me tell you a little story and then we will discuss your choice." He told her.
Before he said anything else he helped her into a sitting position and propped a couple pillows behind her back.
"Now, tell me," he began. "What do you know of recent wizarding history?"
