The days continued to pass rather uneventfully, Professor Lockhart continued to give Harry unwanted advice, and Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Harry's schedule, was a frequent visitor, pestering Harry with questions. He was used to people asking him many things, though, so didn't mind, answering all the questions he was able to. It seemed to be the highlight of Colin's day that Harry would spend any time with him at all, even if it was only a few seconds to exchange greetings.
Classes continued, and the work load was more than it had been the previous year. Harry didn't mind, though, and had almost expected that to be the case. Malfoy, Davis, and others from Slytherin continued to insult him and attempt, unsuccessfully, to trip or hurt him with magic, which was dispelled on coming in contact with him. He'd even had to shield himself against their physical attacks as well, though noticed that the viciousness of their attacks seemed to be increasing. He'd attempted to speak with Professor McGonagall about it, had even gone to Professor Snape. Both told him that, as there was no evidence of any wrong doing, they couldn't do anything. Professor Snape had then told Harry to stop wasting his time, so he'd left. Harry felt a little angry at their attitudes, but mostly accepted everything they'd told him.
When Harry wasn't studying, he was exploring, trying to improve his navigational skills within Hogwarts without using his watch as a guide. There was a pattern to certain passage ways, doors that were something else unless you asked politely, tickled a specific spot, or performed some other means of opening them. He was starting to get the hang of navigating, and was proud of himself for what he'd been able to learn.
He, along with Magic, Ron and Hermione visited Hagrid one Saturday morning, discussing how everything had gone so far in the year. Harry told Hagrid about the bullying students, though he didn't have any good advice for him. He suggested going to Professor Dumbledore, though Harry doubted that would do any good. To his surprise, Hagrid, in turn, told them about how he didn't believe anything that Professor Lockhart claimed to have done. Harry and Ron both agreed with him, but Hermione was rather defensive. Magic said nothing on the subject, but Harry knew she agreed with his position, because she'd never yet disagreed with any position of his that he'd taken on any subject, simply supported him always. As it turned out, Professor Lockhart was the only person who wanted to take the job of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as there were rumors that it was jinxed. So much for going to Professor Dumbledore about that class, Harry thought to himself. It seemed that he was correct. The class was good for one thing at the moment, a grade.
It wasn't long after they returned to the Gryffindor common room once their visit with Hagrid was over, that the Gryffindor Quidditch team returned, talking about how the Slytherins all had Nimbus Two Thousand and One brooms. They were fairly angry about the entire thing, though since Harry didn't watch the sport or take part in it, he didn't much care.
The next morning, Harry woke earlier than usual. After dressing for the day, he went down to the Gryffindor common room. He heard Magic moving toward him, which was odd, as she usually waited for him to come to her at Hogwarts.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Ginny Weasley snuck from the common room last night. She felt like a piece of the diary was within her." Magic stated.
"What?" Harry asked, confused. "How's that possible?"
"If I knew, I would have told you." Magic stated.
"Well, keep an eye on her. When you see her, we'll find out if she feels any different than usual." Harry said.
Despite what Magic told him, Harry felt no difference in Ginny except, perhaps, being a bit exhausted which was understandable if she didn't get much sleep. Harry was still concerned for her, though, and tried to talk with her. As usual, Ginny squeaked and ran from him, perhaps too nervous to be quite so close to him. He sighed, and after eating, explored more of the school, doing all that he could to learn its routs. Not only did he try to learn the different routs, but also tried to recognize other pieces of magic that he felt. Daphne found him later on that day as he was walking along the fifth floor, and Harry turned toward her at the sound of her voice.
"Hi." He greeted.
"Hello." She responded. "Are you lost?"
"No, I'm just feeling the magic as I'm walking." Harry responded, as he was walking slower than usual down the corridor.
"Interesting." She said. "I'd like to know more if you're interested in telling me, but I wanted to tell you that I took your advice. My wrist was broken earlier today by Flint. I told Madam Pomfrey who it was that injured me. Professor Snape heard, and he's got detention and points taken from Slytherin."
"Glad to see Professor Snape keeping up being fair." Harry said. "Do you think it'll do any good in the long run, going to the professors?"
"Yes." Daphne said. "Professor Snape spoke to the entire common room. He even hinted that you've been bullied by them, something I confirmed as I saw it once. He stated that, if it continued, the punishments would be even more severe, and also said that such acts were shaming Slytherin house, and that wasn't something he'd stand for."
"Well, we'll find out what happens, then." Harry said.
"Where's Magic?" Daphne asked.
"She's in the common room, observing and learning." Harry replied.
"I thought she'd be with you." Daphne said. "Usually, you don't wander around without her anymore."
"Since I've got a shield around me that'll dissipate spells on contact, and deflect any harmful physical assault, I'm confident that I'm safe." Harry said.
"I'm glad you've taken precautions." Daphne said. "You said you feel the magic. How, exactly, do you feel the magic?"
"I don't know. It's like getting a sense of the magic that's here. In the portraits, it's like a construct of a person, something that was built. The building itself here is like a place of teaching, instruction. Ghosts are like an echo of something that used to be here, almost like an echo of sound you might here. With so much magic, it's hard to tell individual things, but if we weren't around all of this, I could identify certain things. Or, if something was close to me or in either mine or Magic's hands, I could tell you the spells or charms I recognize on the object. Like anything else, I have to learn how a specific piece of magic feels before I can know what it is. Since I've been here, though, it's getting easier to pick things apart and feel what they are, even with a lot of magic around." Harry said.
"Can you recognize people by their magic?" Daphne asked.
"Not quite." Harry responded. "I can get a general sense of their power levels, but it's hard to differentiate people's magic from one another. The magic in people is very calm and stable, and doesn't feel much different than another person, usually. There are differences, I just don't know how to pick them out yet."
"People's magic is calm and stable, huh? Have you felt magic that's otherwise?" Daphne asked curiously.
"Professor Lockhart's pixies." Harry said. "The magic in them was restless, I guess you could call it wild."
"Oh." Daphne replied. "Those. Yes, I heard about that class. It seems that our Professor Lockhart isn't much of a defense professor."
"Apparently, he's the only one that would take the job." Harry said. "I guess no one wants to teach in that position because they're afraid of some silly jinx that probably doesn't exist."
"I suppose, then, going to Professor Dumbledore about his inept teaching would do nothing." Daphne stated. "A shame."
"So, what's your year been like so far?" Harry asked.
"Other than being bullied and working on assignments, nothing." Daphne said. "I have no friends in Slytherin house. They shun me for being friends with people like you."
"That's unfortunate." Harry said. "Do you think you might want to be friends with any of them? I bet we could arrange something."
"If they're going to be so narrow minded, I'd rather not." Daphne stated. "Besides, I don't feel much like hiding my friendship with people they think are the enemy."
"How very Gryffindor of you." Harry responded.
"I'd rather be a Gryffindor than a Slytherin at this point." Daphne sighed.
"I wonder if we could arrange that." Harry said. "Can people be sorted into another house?"
"I'm not sure." Daphne said thoughtfully. "I'll look into that some time."
"I'd like that." Harry said.
He and Daphne continued to talk about various subjects as Harry learned his way around the school, though it was made more difficult than any other building he'd ever been in due to the changes Hogwarts seemed to go through. After dinner that night, Harry finished some minor assignments before going to bed.
September past and October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and in the castle. Harry was among some of the students who had gotten a cold, and took a Pepperup potion that caused steam to pour from his ears for several hours. It cured the cold, though, and he noted with interest that the potion had its own type of magic, something he hadn't noticed from potions before.
Harry enjoyed the rain that fell from the sky and hit the castle windows, though it was more of the sound that he enjoyed rather than actually being out in it. When he'd gone to Herbology in the storm that seemed unending, he made Magic repel the water from him, enjoying the curious sensation of hearing the rain without actually feeling it. He had Magic do the same to the other Gryffindors, receiving thanks in return.
One Saturday a few days before Halloween, Harry was continuing to explore, listening to the howling wind and rain thundering against the windows. He heard someone talking as he wandered along the corridor, muttering to them self. He realized from the sound of the voice, that it was a ghost talking, recognizing it as Nearly Headless Nick.
"Hi, Nick." Harry said.
"Hello, hello." Nick replied, sounding rather preoccupied.
"You seem a bit preoccupied." Harry said, fascinated by the sound of paper being placed in something, but a sound that was more like an echo than something that existed.
"Ah, a matter of no importance." Nick said. "It's not as though I really wanted to join... Thought I'd apply, but apparently I 'don't fulfill requirements'."
"For what?" Harry asked curiously.
"The headless hunt." Nick responded in a bitter tone. "Though you'd think, wouldn't you, that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join it?"
As he spoke, Harry could hear the sound of paper again, as if he was pulling out a letter. He felt a bit awkward, regretting having brought it up to him.
"Well..." Harry trailed off, not certain quite what to say, though not wanting to offend him. "Is there anything I could do?"
"Actually, there is." Nick responded hopefully. "My death day party's going to be this Halloween in the dungeons. Maybe you could invite your friends to show up and they could tell Sir Patrick how terrifying they find me."
"I'll have to ask them." Harry said. "But, if they're willing, I'm sure we could show up."
"Thank you, Harry." Nick said, sounding eagerly excited. "I really do appreciate this!"
"You're welcome." Harry replied.
Once he returned to the common room and told Ron, Hermione and Magic about the party, Hermione said, "Ooo, that's fascinating. I bet no one's ever been to one of those before."
"This death day party, just a bunch of ghosts around, sounds dead depressing." Ron stated.
"What do you think, Magic? Think it'll be fascinating?" Hermione asked.
"No." Magic stated. "Knowledge can be gathered."
"So, do you all want to go?" Harry asked. "We could go this once to see what it's like, maybe pass on Nick's message."
"I'd love to." Hermione responded eagerly.
"I suppose." Ron said.
"Oh, and one other thing." Harry said. "Daphne wants to look into possibly getting sorted into another house. Slytherin isn't going well for her."
"Really?" Ron asked. "It'd be cool to have her in Gryffindor."
"It's not often anyone is sorted again once they've already been put in their house." Hermione said. "It's possible, though, but it..."
Hermione's explanation was cut off by what sounded like a firework, but something seemed different about it as it streamed around the common room. Percy was shouting at Fred and George for abusing a salamander and feeding it a firework, stating how irresponsible it was. It only lasted a few seconds, though, then the sounds faded.
"That was odd." Harry said, shrugging it off as normality. After all, stranger things had happened at Hogwarts.
Harry was beginning to regret his promise to help Nearly Headless Nick with Ron, Hermione and Magic, passing the great hall and going down into the cold dungeons that Halloween. In fact, the closer they got, the colder things became, like walking into a freezer. With a thought, all of them had a pocket of warmth around them that was contoured around their clothes. Ron and Hermione sighed, and Magic was unaffected by the cold. As they drew closer, Harry heard one of the most horrible sounds he'd ever heard before, as if fingernails were scraping across a chock board. Never again would he go to one of these death day parties, he decided.
"Is that supposed to be music?" Ron whispered as they turned a corner.
"My dear friends." Nick's voice was mournful. "Welcome, welcome. So pleased you could come..."
Harry was led inside by Ron, hearing the sounds of a crowd of ghosts. The only difference from a normal party was the sound that they were echoes, and the feeling of echo people that once existed, but were now only a shadow of what they'd once been. The fascination didn't last long for Harry, and as he sniffed the air, he thought he could smell something rotting.
"Well, this is great." Harry said to Ron and Hermione in a flat tone. "What do you think, Magic?"
"It's a party of ghosts." Magic stated the obvious.
"You shouldn't have asked that question." Hermione said, sounding amused. "And thanks for the warming charms."
"Not a problem. If I didn't do that, I'm sure we'd all be freezing by now." Harry said.
"I'm starving. Wonder if that's food over there." Ron said, then added, "Looks like it!"
"Hold on." Harry said. "I don't think we want to go over there. I can smell something rotting, and it smells like food."
"You serious?" Ron asked.
"Yes." Harry responded.
"Where do you think we should go?" Hermione asked.
"Not sure." Harry said. "Just around, I guess."
"Let's not step through anyone." Ron stated nervously, and Harry didn't blame him. Stepping through a ghost was like stepping through a bucket of cold water, though Harry imagined his warming magic would keep them protected against that. It wasn't polite to walk through ghosts, though, as Nick had told him once before.
"Oh, no." Hermione moaned after about a minute, they having been walking around the edge of the dance floor. "Turn back, turn back. I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle."
"Who's that?" Harry asked as they turned around and headed in another direction.
"She haunts one of the toilets in the girls' bathroom on the second floor." Hermione said.
"How odd." Harry stated.
"There's the table of food I saw." Ron said.
"Yep, and the smell's getting stronger." Harry stated.
"I don't even notice it from here." Ron said.
"I'm used to using all my senses to get around." Harry said.
"Yeah." Hermione responded. "You do know, Ron, that if someone doesn't have one of their senses, the others are more acute as a result?"
"That's not true." Harry responded. "It's a myth. I don't have more acute senses, they're no better than yours. I just pay attention. Try this. Close your eyes, take a breath through your nose, just focus on that."
Harry heard Ron and Hermione doing so, then Ron said, "Yeah, I do smell something strange."
"See?" Harry asked. "There you go. It's not difficult."
About a minute after they resumed walking, Nearly Headless Nick's voice came to them and he said, "Enjoying yourselves?"
"It's, different." Harry said in reply.
"Not a bad turnout." Nick sounded proud. "The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent... It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra..."
It seemed it wasn't necessary, though, as the horrible sound of the ghost music stopped to make way for the sound of a hunting horn.
"Oh, here we go." Nick bitterly stated.
Harry heard ghosts beginning to wildly clap, though he refrained, noticing that Ron, Hermione and Magic weren't clapping either. Hermione remarked to Harry, "It's the headless ones!"
One of the ghosts spoke after about thirty more seconds, apparently having come over to where they were. Harry wished he could hear their footsteps, though couldn't. The ghost that spoke sounded cheerful, and also as if he was telling a rather crude joke.
"Nick! Head still hanging in there?"
Harry heard him laugh a bit, then the sound of an echoed clap on a shoulder.
"Welcome, Patrick." Nick stated stiffly.
"Live 'uns!" Patrick said, and Harry heard the sound of his voice falling toward the floor. The crowd howled with laughter.
"You know, Patrick, Nick really is quite terrifying in his own way." Hermione said.
"Ha!" Patrick stated, his voice still from the floor. "I bet he told you to say that! But it's obvious he can't join? I mean, look at the fellow!"
"Well, we tried." Ron mumbled.
"Yeah, we did." Harry said.
"If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!" Nick stated loudly as he moved off.
"Let's go." Ron announced. "If we hurry, we might get some dessert."
The four of them left the room and headed back up the passage and moved out of the dungeons. As they drew further from the room where the ghosts cheering and clapping was happening, Harry said, "I'm never doing that again."
"Agreed." Ron said.
"It was interesting, but I don't think I'll want to do it again either." Hermione said.
As Ron led the way toward the entrance hall, Harry suddenly heard a faint, but strange hissing sound in the pipes that he'd never heard before. Curious, he thought to Magic, who quietly and quickly hurried into the entrance hall.
"Hey, Magic, what's up!" Ron called after her.
"She's following a hissing sound I'm curious about." Harry said casually as they continued to walk, entering the entrance hall and hearing the crowd of students.
"Well, while she goes exploring, can we eat?" Ron asked.
"Sure." Harry said with a grin, looking forward to getting some food himself.
They entered the Great Hall where the students were talking and laughing, and Harry could hear the same sound of fluttering wings that he'd heard before. No sooner had they sat down did Harry feel a strange cold sweep through him, and felt oddly like something was missing. He shuddered.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.
"I don't know." Harry said, feeling as if the world was somehow dull and flat, though he still heard and felt things clearly with his hands.
"Where were you three?" Seamus asked them, but Harry wasn't focusing on responding. Instead, he was focusing on the cold within his chest, and realized quite suddenly that his flame of magic had frozen. He tried to reach for Magic, open the link of knowledge he had with her, but something was terribly wrong. It was nothing, a void, something empty and containing nothing. He shuddered again, gasping.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked.
"Magic." Harry whispered. "We've got to find Magic."
"Oh, man!" Ron called as the plates and food apparently vanished.
Harry's heart pounded as he realized, once again, how flat and dull the world was, and now knew it was because he wasn't sensing any magic in it. As he quickly stood with Hermione beside him, he struggled to sense the magic around him, but couldn't. He pushed her as they moved off from the Great Hall. Hermione said nothing, but did respond to his urgency. They entered the entrance hall with the others and moved up to the first floor, but even so, Harry felt no change in distance, only the frozen void of his flame of magic.
"Where is she, can you tell?" Hermione asked.
"No." Harry replied desperately. "It's like she's gone, my magic's gone!"
"Calm down." Hermione said, though Harry was too anxious to do so.
They soon entered the second floor, and Harry was starting to think about searching on his own when he heard gasps and screams. Beside him, Hermione let out a shocked gasp, tensing.
"She's..." Hermione's voice trailed off, and out of the fallen silence, Malfoy's voice stated, "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"
"Where's Magic!" Harry cried desperately.
"Below Mrs. Norris, who's hanging from a torch bracket." Hermione said in a trembling voice.
"Take me to her." Harry said, feeling a deep sadness pouring over him.
"Harry..." She began, but he only gripped her arm tighter.
"Please." He whispered, feeling broken.
"What's going on here, step aside!" Mr. Filch, the care taker, called as he hurried through the students. "What's the hold up..."
His voice trailed off in what sounded like shock, but not long after, Professor Dumbledore's voice cut through the silence.
"Argus, Mr. Potter, come with me. Miss Granger, you may also accompany u..." Unable to stand not being shown where Magic was, Harry cut him off.
"Where is Magic!" He shouted. "Magic!"
"Harry, if you will calm yourself, we will proceed to show you Magic." Professor Dumbledore stated firmly.
Harry trembled and he gasped, tears rolling down his face at the empty, frozen feel of his magic within him. Professor Lockhart's voice seemed to pass over him like a haze as he said, "Feel free to use my office, Headmaster, it's nearest..."
"Thank you, Gilderoy." Professor Dumbledore replied calmly. "Minerva, if you'll assist me."
Harry was led by Hermione as the Professors headed down the corridor. They entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, and as Harry heard the sound of what seemed to be a statue being placed on the desk, he moved quickly toward it.
"This way, Harry." Professor Dumbledore said in a grave tone.
Harry followed his voice, bumped the desk with his cane, then reached out with both hands, not caring about his cane falling to the ground with a clatter. Immediately, he touched something cold and like stone, but as his hands moved over it, he knew exactly what it was. Magic lay, completely still, just like an icy, cold, stone statue. Harry now knew what the feeling of the frozen flame within him was, and knew why he felt nothing but an empty void, but it couldn't be. Magic had told him she'd always be there if he needed her.
"Magic, I need you." Harry said. "Come back."
He tried to gather his flame, but it was as if it didn't even exist. He struggled to think anything, to heal, to bring her back, but nothing was working. He trembled and didn't move, his hands on her stone face, grief pouring through him. Professor Lockhart's chattering voice washed over him like white noise, but Professor Dumbledore's voice caught his attention.
"They aren't dead."
"Then what's wrong with her?" Harry asked. "My magic, I can't... Magic's frozen! I can't use my magic! I've lost it, lost!"
"Both of them are merely petrified." Professor Dumbledore stated in a voice that sounded as if he, too, was grieving.
"Save her!" Harry shouted as he shook her. "Magic, stop, come back! Get out of this!"
"Harry, I am afraid that not even Magic, as powerful as she is, and as powerful as your magic itself is, will be able to cure herself." Professor Dumbledore said in a measured, but grave voice.
"We will be able to cure her, Mr. Potter." Professor Snape sounded kinder than Harry could ever remember, but his mind was only on Magic, and how cold she was, how grieved he felt. "We can use the Mandrakes, once they have fully matured, to make a potion to revive not only Magic, but Mrs. Norris."
"I'll make it." Professor Lockhart butted in, but Harry, angry, had taken the last lie from Professor Lockhart.
"Professor Snape is the potions master not you, you couldn't even contain a few pixies in your class! And your lessons are a joke!" Harry shouted furiously as he spun to face him. "You don't even know how to do anything, do you! You haven't even taught us a single spell or charm! How do we even know you did everything that you did? Oh, we don't! I don't even know where to begi..."
"Mr. Potter, that is enough!" Professor McGonagall shouted to him.
Harry was still rather angry, though, wanting to lash out at anyone. He knew who to pin the blame on, though, and it wasn't Professor Lockhart. Turning around, Harry grabbed Magic's icy, stone shoulders through the robe that she always wore, even now.
"You said you'd be there if I need you!" Harry shouted into her face. "I need you now and you're not here! You betrayed me!"
"Mr. Potter, it isn't possible for Magic to revive herself when suspended in this state." Professor Dumbledore said, and once again, Harry touched the icy, frozen flame of magic in his chest, though it was closer to the feeling not even existing at all.
"But I need her." Harry said in a broken voice, pulling her cold body to him in an embrace she wasn't returning. "I need Magic."
"You are unable to use magic currently, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked softly, his voice gentle.
"And I can't feel it, either." Harry said, then added viciously, "And it's all your fault because you didn't know about something happening in your own school right under your nose!"
"We will do all that we can to save her, Mr. Potter." Professor Dumbledore said in a resigned voice. "Professor McGonagall, if you would levitate Magic to the hospital wing."
"I'm going." Harry stated furiously. Professor McGonagall didn't object.
Harry touched Magic's stone cold skin after she was laid to rest on one of the beds in the hospital wing, paying no attention to Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey talking. Instead, he touched her face, her hair which was just as stiff as the rest of her, felt her hands at her sides, realized her head was bent as if she'd been looking down at the time. Still crying in grief, he climbed on to the bed and hugged her statue body to him, feeling nothing but the icy feel of his frozen flame of magic, the empty void that was Magic's link of knowledge, which he kept closed, unable to stand how empty it felt. Clutching Magic's body to him, he paid no attention to anything else happening around him, and eventually, silence fell on the hospital wing. After many hours, Harry fell asleep, still crying, though he didn't sleep well, continuing to wake with Magic as a statue next to him.
"Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey's voice came to him the next morning, quiet and caring. "No good will come of you staying here."
Exhausted and feeling strangely detached from everything around him, Harry climbed from the bed, stating flatly, "I want to come see her."
"Of course, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey said.
Harry grabbed his cane after Madam Pomfrey handed it to him, then slowly walked from the hospital wing. He felt dazed, felt as if everything around him was only half real. He heard Ron, Hermione and Daphne behind him, turning to face them.
"Harry, I'm so sorry." Hermione said, sounding deeply sympathetic.
"It must be terrible." Ron said.
Daphne didn't speak at all, but Harry felt her hug him, heard her calm breathing. Desperately, he put his arms around her and held on tight, feeling all the grief bubbling back to the surface of his thoughts and mind, unable to stop himself from crying into her shoulder.
"I'm here for you, Harry." She said in a soft, calm voice. It was what he wanted, and as they hugged, Ron and Hermione stood silently bye and watched.
Eventually, Harry allowed Daphne to lead him to the Great Hall, where whispers of students who were likely pointing and staring at him, came to his ears. Feeling angry, Harry shouted, "Stop staring at me!"
"So, not so blind after all, Potter?" Malfoy asked in a voice of delight.
"You're the blind one, Malfoy." Daphne stated in her cool calm.
"And you're no better than a blood traitor, Greengrass." Malfoy stated, sounding as if he was sneering.
"Better that than a spoiled brat." Daphne stated in return, then said gently to Harry, "The bench is in front of you."
Harry stepped over it and sat down, feeling almost as if he was floating as he folded up his cane. He could hear Daphne putting food on a plate in front of him, not caring what it was, hardly tasting it as he ate, the sounds of students turning into background noise. Everything seemed once again only half real. He heard something about Daphne being excused from classes by Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall saying something he thought might have been to him, though he wasn't paying attention. When he finished eating, he sat until Daphne took his arm and said, "Come on, Harry."
Harry let her lead him, following her instructions when she told him to step up or down, not caring where they were going. They reached the Gryffindor tower, and he mindlessly said the password when Daphne prompted him, the two of them sitting on one of the comfortable couches. It brought back memories of he and Magic doing something similar, tears rolling down his face for a moment before anger took their place.
"You can't replace her!" He shouted at Daphne, shoving her away as he jumped up.
"No, I can't replace her." Daphne agreed quietly.
"Then stop trying!" Harry shouted furiously.
"I'm not trying." Daphne responded. "I'm your friend and I want to help you."
"If you were really my friend, you'd leave me alone!" Harry shouted.
"That isn't what you want." Daphne stated as she, now standing in front of him, put her hands on his shoulders.
"Only Magic knows what I want and now she's petrified!" Harry slapped her hands away angrily.
"Only Magic knows everything you truly want, but others can know certain things, too." Daphne calmly agreed, her voice steady.
"You can't know anything!" Harry shouted. "Nothing! You're nothing compared to Magic! She knew everything, always knew what I wanted! You'll never do that and I don't need you! Leave!"
"I'm going to stay with you." Daphne replied in a calm tone that seemed to make it final.
"I don't want you here!" Harry shouted, his anger growing. "Get out!"
He heard Daphne move toward the portrait hole, then it opened and closed. He stumbled toward the couch and slumped down in it, blaming Daphne, Magic, even Hermione and Ron for accepting that stupid death day party. His anger didn't last long, though. The empty feeling of his frozen magic was too much to remain angry about, and he despaired over losing his first and best friend, the companion who was supposed to be with him forever. As he cried, he heard movement and felt someone sit down next to him, an arm wrap around him gently. It was Daphne, he realized, but couldn't bring himself to be angry at her for making him think she'd left. As he cried, he heard her sniffing here and there, sitting and crying for what felt like hours until he felt empty, aware, but not caring about the people that entered and left the common room between classes.
Daphne led him to the great hall at dinner, and before everyone ate, Professor Dumbledore stood to speak.
"The events of last night were tragic, but from them, has sprung a friendship which will endure forever. One of our own Slytherin students, Daphne Greengrass, has been approved to sort herself into another house, as she wishes to be with Harry Potter during his difficult ordeal, something I must insist no one questions him about. She is hopeful to be sorted into Gryffindor, and I wish you luck, Miss Greengrass. If you will come to the front of the hall, we will proceed." Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry felt Daphne leave his side and heard her footsteps, but the event seemed somehow empty. It seemed to take quite a long time before the hat shouted Gryffindor in what sounded like a voice of resignation. The clapping and cheering seemed to pass through him, and Harry felt empty, as if the event didn't even matter. Daphne came to sit beside him, and again, served him a meal. Harry didn't feel hungry, though, and as Daphne prepared his plate of food, he heard something about her saying that the hat had wanted to put her in Hufflepuff because of the loyalty she was showing. Harry could have cared less.
"Harry, you need to eat." Daphne said.
"No." Harry responded dully.
"If you die, Magic will die also, and you'll never see her again. If you live, you will see her again when she's cured. Try to eat." Daphne said gently.
She put the fork in his hand, and Harry began to eat, though only finished half his plate before he stopped, feeling as if he was about to throw up. Daphne rubbed his back and Harry swallowed, barely able to keep down what he'd eaten. She led him from the Great Hall as tears rolled down his face, and led him to his dormitory.
Harry did nothing to help himself, even though Daphne tried to get him to do so. Rather than getting a teacher, Daphne moved Harry, who was only vaguely aware of her doing almost everything for him, to make sure he looked presentable. He was only a little aware of her remaining with him throughout what seemed to have been a shower, felt like nothing was quite real, that the world was flat and dull. Even the tears rolling down his face didn't seem quite real.
After he was tucked into bed, Daphne whispered, "I'll be in the common room if you need me." She then left the dormitory, and after the door closed behind her, Harry cried himself to sleep, once again a restless one. The night dragged on, and by the morning, Harry felt as if he'd not slept at all, and that he'd been laying in bed for days rather than only that night. He wasn't sure how he was going to continue on throughout his days without Magic, and didn't even care to think about it.