Whispers in the Night
Disclaimer: I'm just playing in JKR's sandbox and make no money from this. Please enjoy the story and feel free to leave comments and critiques, it's the only way to get better at this. I'm writing this story for my own enjoyment.
Content Warning: This story will contain mentions of abuse and scenes containing but not limited to swearing, violence, smut and other Adult Content.
Author's Note: 1. Reviewer PaC: As always, thank you for your thorough and thoughtful reviews! I will take your advice to heart because I realized I was being very back and forth about things. Thankfully I know a lot of that is over from here on out and if it isn't then I'll make sure to fix it accordingly, so thank you for helping me with that. You're right that the reaction timing could have been better and the scene/conversation length during moments of action will be taken into account. Hopefully my eventual take on veela and Fleur will be to your and everyone's liking.
2. As always, a big thank you to my reviews, followers, favorites, and readers in general. I'm so glad this story has come so far from humble beginnings and that you enjoy this story hopefully as much as I do. If you can, leave some thoughts for me to take a look at yeah? Reviews are always appreciated.
3. Another step closer to Hogwarts, and another good chapter for character development. The next chapter is fairly short, and likely to remain that way, so be on the lookout for a possible update on Thursday, and a definite one on Saturday. That's all I've got for now. Enjoy!
Oh my…
Chapter Twenty-Six: Dreams and Defiance
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Harry had heard already heard the question what felt like countless times, and that was just inside of the morning thus far. It seemed as if almost every time he turned around someone was asking whether or not he was alright or if he was ready. Turvy had asked him that morning while they made breakfast together, and shortly after Amelia had come down she had asked him the same thing. One after another his family, his girlfriends, had asked him if he was sure about what he was going to do.
"If I hear that fucking question one more time today I swear I'm going to hit somebody," Harry warned as he gazed at the golden gate of the ministry elevator. "I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be."
The journey to get there hadn't taken long, not at all. A trip through the floo, some registration at the atrium entrance and they were on their way toward the Department of Mysteries. It wasn't that Harry didn't appreciate the concern everyone was showing. He was honestly glad that they were concerned about him. He would have just appreciated it more if they didn't hound him like they had done the entire morning. Right then, however, they made him feel like glass, like he was about to break at any second. Every fiber of his being spat on that feeling and tried to grind it to dust but every time he had gathered himself they asked that stupid bloody question again.
"I'm sorry, I won't ask again," Amelia promised solemnly as she stood next to him. "You don't need me to ask. You are ready, no matter what anyone else says. I should have realized that before."
The teen glanced over at the woman that had become his guardian, his aunt, perhaps even something more along the way. While the others with them hadn't made the same promise, Amelia had made it and realized just why she shouldn't ask it at all. He had made up his mind and prepared himself as best he could for what was to come. For a second Harry began to wonder why until her silver gaze met his own. She was worried, yes, but she realized he was stronger than everyone had given him credit for as of late. Her confidence in him, the quiet pride he witnessed as she watched him face what very well may be the inevitable, was heartening.
"Thank you, auntie," Harry whispered back.
While Amelia offered him a quiet, solemn smile to reassure him the rest of the elevator's occupants shifted a little uneasily. Harry could tell they wanted to ask him if he was sure once again but they held their tongues. Susan and Daphne stood on either side of Amelia and himself respectively, while Bill and Nym stood behind them. Usually one wouldn't listen to a prophecy with so many people but Harry couldn't refuse those so close to him the chance to know. He would let his other friends know, certainly, but right now the people that needed to know were there.
The clang and bell of the elevator as it reached its destination awoke Harry from his observations of the group. The short, torch-lit hall before them had exactly the sort of feeling Harry figured the unspeakables wanted associated with their level. It was dark, mysterious even, as the blue light from the torches cast gentle shadows along the black tiled walls and floors. The only door seemed to draw Harry's gaze, and temptation to open it rose in him before he saw the shimmer of invisibility cloaks on either side of it.
"Someone's waiting," Harry whispered as he went to activate his glasses. Amelia's hand stopped him and when he turned to look at her Amelia shook her head and pointed back to where the shimmers had been. Two people had appeared, their clothes a blue-grey, their faces hidden by enchanted hoods that cloaked their faces in darkness. Harry was almost impressed, if it didn't feel like some oppressive measure to hide the identities of people that very well might kill everyone on sight given the opportunity.
"Good eyes," one of them seemed to croak in a gravelly voice. "No wonder you can catch a snitch so quickly. We'll have to keep our eyes on you even more now." Harry's hand was tempted to move to his wand but Amelia's grip on his wrist hadn't let up as she stared the unspeakable a down. "I'm Unspeakable Director Croaker. I'll be your guide through the department today. I must warn you not to touch your wands, activate any form of magical surveillance and scanning, nor do anything that might interfere with our research. The things we work on here are exceedingly expensive and complex, none of them are to be trifled with nor observed by inexperienced eyes lest you go mad or get ideas beyond your capabilities."
"You have my assurances that won't happen," Amelia agreed for them all as the group finally departed the elevator and advanced on the door. "May we proceed?"
"Of course," Croaker ground out as his hood shifted just enough to indicate he was looking everyone over. "I take it everyone here is coming at Harry's behest?"
"They are," Harry affirmed quickly as he moved his hand into Amelia's briefly before they let go of one another. "I want them to hear the prophecy with me. Better to have more minds than my own working on interpreting it."
"Fine then, I will warn you, however, that there is another who will bear witness to the event besides myself."
Harry's heart dropped. He knew there would be a catch. There always was when it came to anything involving him. One person alone, however, sprung into Harry's mind.
"Don't tell me-"
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Croaker spouted immediately, his voice giving away only a sliver of his emotions, almost as if he was both somewhat annoyed and amused at the situation. "He was there when the prophecy was first revealed and recorded, thus we were forced to inform him that a viewing was taking place today."
"Croaker, I thought we had an understanding," Amelia said far more politely than she wanted to. "We were to hear this prophecy on our own without any outside influence involved."
"It was protocol," Croaker defended with an air of casual dismissal. "You wouldn't want me to do something illegal would you, Director?"
"Of course not," Amelia answered politely once again. "I had just hoped not to involve the Headmaster when he has already involved himself more than he should have in Harry's life."
"Let's just get this over with quickly so I don't try to strangle Dumbledore with his own beard," Harry cut in quickly as he stared at the black door and nothing else.
Croaker and his partner seemed to chuckle at that as the unknown unspeakable opened the door and let them in. Harry could almost hear the smile on Croaker's lips as he spoke. "That, my dear boy, I'd pay a hundred galleons to see if you succeeded."
"Deal," Harry called back to him from the front of the group as they assembled in the center of a circular room seemingly made of nothing but doors.
The door behind them snapped shut and the moment it did the world spun around the group as Croaker casually made his way around them to the front. As soon as the doors stopped spinning, he whispered something unintelligible and a door swung open to his right. With a gesture to follow him, the group of wizards and witches passed on, each looking around in wonder and curiosity.
Shelves upon shelves, each laden with dusty orbs glowing a faint blue extended out as far as the eye could see. Harry almost imagined that if he were flying above it all and closed his eyes long enough and opened them again it might seem like an early dusk with stars peeking out of misty clouds that barely held themselves together. Each shelf they passed was numbered and the further they went the more his heart pounded. Around him the others were of similar mind, though with each step they took their uncertainty only grew.
The long walk soon came to an end as they took a turn between two shelves and stopped about midway. Harry needed no outside direction. He knew which one was his, he had always known. The shimmering cloud of blue-grey within the orb called to him. Part of him wanted to reach out and hear it at once. Another part of him wanted to grab the damn thing, smash it and walk away to let the prophecy drive an old man mad as it faded into obscurity with his increasingly obtuse mind. Somewhere inside of Harry, not so far beneath the surface, he didn't want to touch it at all.
"Take it," Croaker prompted in his crackling voice, startling Harry from his inner struggle. "It's yours after all. It's the reason why you're here, isn't it? You're the only one that can take it off of the shelf besides a supposedly dead man."
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Harry spoke softly.
"No, Voldemort," Croaker corrected instantly and with some disbelief that Harry couldn't plainly tell who the prophecy was about.
The expected shiver never ran through the group that surrounded Harry. They had all said or heard the name so often in the past eight or so months that it hardly mattered at all to any of them if they heard it one more time. Harry was thankful for that at least. Their fear of a name was gone and all that was left to the moniker was disdain and loathing. In fact the name Tom Riddle registered more of a reaction from Amelia, as she balled her hands into fists more tightly. It wasn't Voldemort that Harry most often talked about from his nightmares: It was Tom Riddle, the young man that had been an incorporeal friend to the troubled Harry Potter when he needed it most only to betray him.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle is Lord Voldemort," Harry said as he wriggled his hands and fingers while he stared upon the orb. "Voldemort is Tom Riddle. You take Tom's full name and make it into the anagram 'I am Lord Voldemort' which is rather amusing from a certain point of view… The two are the same, but they're also different."
"Is that so? The Department of Mysteries will have to look into that more extensively then. Thank you," Croaker said as he wrote a note in a notebook he kept in his pocket. "Now, the orb? I'm sure you want to get this over with as quickly as anyone."
Harry almost sneered at the man for the slight tone of condescension in his voice. Harry was neither dumb nor slow and to suggest such only made the young man irritable and determined to prove himself. Time seemed to crawl as Harry felt the moment of truth had come. The war within him waged to and fro as he forced himself to believe he wasn't afraid of the orb and its ethereal contents. Actually, he knew that last one wasn't true. He was far more than afraid; he was terrified. The prophecy had seemingly defined his life before he was even born and it looked like it would continue to define his life until the day he died. A chill ran down his spine at the thought and a cold knot of hatred settled inside him.
Smooth spun glass, light as a feather and as fragile as melted sugar was cool in Harry's hand as he wrapped the orb in his fingers and palm. A tingle passed over him and the teen's eyes locked on the gently churning clouds within. Harry couldn't help but feel immense anger at the serene beauty of such a dangerous thing. As soon as Harry held the prophecy securely Croaker led them away from the shelves to a cupped receptacle on a desk next to an immense book. Beside it, standing as quiet and calm as ever, was Albus Dumbledore.
"Harry, Madame Bones, Misses Bones, Greengrass and Tonks as well as the wonderful young Mister Weasley, a pleasure to see you all this morning," the headmaster said almost jovially. "I'm sorry that this couldn't be a more private viewing for you but I came to beg you once again not to explore the contents of the prophecy."
"Give me a good reason," Harry retorted in an instant before anyone else could speak.
"You're not ready to hear it," Dumbledore pleaded softly. "I care for you Harry, far more than my mistakes will allow you to see but I do care! I want you to live a long and happy life, Harry. Above any hopes I had to see you lead those you care about and all of Britain into an age of peace, a golden age of magic, life and love I want to see you happy! I made mistakes, this is not in question. But please, Harry, don't come seeking answers you are not ready to receive."
The teen snorted, his mind made up as he looked at the aged headmaster. "Just like I wasn't ready to defend myself from Quirrell? To slay a basilisk? To end the memory of Tom Riddle? To overcome the Dementors and prove my godfather innocent posthumously?"
"Your life has been filled with dangers that you have overcome. Those are all admirable things, Harry. I applaud you for all of your accomplishments but you are not ready to bear witness to this prophecy," the wizard insisted in a pleading tone. "Please, Harry, I'm just trying to help you, to spare you more pain. You're not ready for the burden this prophecy will place upon your shoulders. You're too young to have to bear the weight of the responsibility this will place upon you. It could change you, forever."
"Long ago I walked a path to hell paved with someone else's good intentions," Harry stated clearly, almost indifferently as he controlled the whirl of emotions inside him. "Then, one day, I decided to walk back out because I had hope for something better than what I knew," the teen continued before his voice turned bitter. "It wasn't enough. I still walk with the shadows of my past, still tread lightly with every step I take forward. I've trudged through the panic of fighting for my life and the lives of others more times than I can count. I've marched into battle and left men to be buried in my wake. I've come to terms with who I'm willing to be to see my dream come true. If you think everything I've been through hasn't prepared me for this then you're wrong, just like you were all of those years ago on Privett Drive."
A pained expression crossed the headmaster's face as he shook his head again. As he looked upon the young man, however, the headmaster still couldn't agree to the current course.
"You will never forgive me my mistakes, will you?" the old wizard asked mournfully.
"Not likely," Harry admitted honestly. "Maybe never. But that's a hell of your own making, Dumbledore. Right now, however, I don't care about you. I care about my life and how this bloody prophecy might effect it."
As Harry held the orb for everyone to see, prepared to set it in the reading cup, the headmaster sighed in resignation. "Very well, Harry. Your adamant will, your fortitude under fire, and your courage in the face of the unknown have prepared you far more than I had thought possible. Perhaps your patience could use tempering but… experience and wisdom do come with age and the trials we face. This, for you, shall be another trial."
Everyone stared at the aged headmaster curiously. The prophecy he had heard could affect someone so deeply? After a moment they all realized it could. Just the first few words of the prophecy had been damning enough to breed concern like rabbits in the minds of everyone that cared for the green-eyed teen. Harry, however, shook his head to clear it of doubt, to clear it of anything that might keep him from making what he felt was the right decision.
"Prophecies are given power by belief," the green-eyed teen stated quietly. "I never studied divination much but I know this at least. You have to believe and have faith in something to give it power over you. The future is always shifting, always moving, churning, and rolling in a myriad of directions with every choice we make… So you may believe this prophecy all you want, Headmaster, you can give it all of the power and belief you can muster, try to bring I to fruition in whatever way you desire, but I doubt I ever will."
The old man chuckled sadly, his head bowed in resignation, or perhaps it was sorrow? In either case, the old man gave a single brief nod before he spoke again. "Wise words, though perhaps misguided by youth… We shall see… I would request, however, that you begin studying occlumency as soon as possible. Professor Snape and I are quite accomplished-"
"Your tutelage won't be necessary, Albus," Amelia cut in quickly and defensively as she looked to the stoic teenage boy she had taken in nearly a year ago. "I will teach Harry and help the others refine their skills in the art, with some help from Andromeda and others of course. We wouldn't want the school to be seen giving Harry preferential treatment after all, would we?"
"Or with a dead former Death Eater-" Harry's retort was quickly silenced by a gentle nudge from Amelia herself. A warning glance from her told Harry not to tempt fate nor patience where these things were concerned. With a sigh the teen nodded. "Occlumency is defensive mind magic, right? Dorea and Sirius mentioned it as a practice most pureblood families go through anyways. It sounded useful when I glanced through their journals."
"Purebloods mostly use it to defend family secrets and magic. It's of the utmost importance in our culture that such things aren't shared with anyone but your spouse and children, though exceptions are made for particularly powerful and close allies." Daphne confirmed with a tilt of her head. "Those truly accomplished at occlumency tend to seem more stoic and withdrawn than others."
"Like a certain Ice Queen," Harry chided only to have a challenging smirk meet him from the brunette. Harry would have met it with his own but the clearing throat of Algernon Croaker belied the man's impatience with the tangential conversation.
"Then we are in agreement that this knowledge will be protected and spread sparingly?" Dumbledore finished with an inquiring gaze toward all of them. The teens nodded quickly, intent on giving out only to their closest friends while the adults already had a list of people they would limit the knowledge to. Tension vanished with the creation of this momentary truce until a fresh wave struck Hard as Harry stepped toward the receptacle. They all knew their lives would change the moment this prophecy was told to them, for better or worse.
Before Harry could set the orb in its place, the Headmaster offered had one last piece of advice. "Know this, once you hear the prophecy you will not enjoy the outcome. Understanding is sometimes the greater evil between ignorance and knowing. I will do what I can to give you the agreed upon interpretation between myself and the Unspeakables and explain it in full once you have heard the indelible words carved into the heart of magic."
While everyone else either shifted uneasily or scowled at Dumbledore because of his warning, Harry ignored the man as he set the orb in the receptacle. As soon as the smooth glass settled into its golden seat a silver image bloomed from the orb and stood above it. The vision of a younger Sybill Trelawney stood before them, her glasses as large and her clothes as gaudy and full of muggle gimmick as they were now. Gasps of recognition went through them all before the apparition spoke in a gravelly tone not her own.
"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...
Born to those who have thrice defied him,
Born as the seventh month dies...
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,
But he will have power the Dark Lord Knows Not...
And either must die at the hands of the other
For neither can live while the other survives...
The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord
Will be born as the seventh month dies..."
A heavy silence filled the room as the words died on the lips of the ethereal image before them. Everyone had listened closely to the prophecy and as soon as it had been recorded in the book Croaker tore the parchment it had been written on out of the tome and handed it over to Amelia. Dumbledore never took his eyes off of Harry as the realization of what the prophecy could mean began to sink into each person among the group. Nym instantly began to curse, Bill went to Amelia and looked over her shoulder, trying to be certain in his knowledge as Daphne and Susan trembled in fear as they realized just what the prophecy could entail.
Harry, however, remained as still as stone as he looked at the orb. Trelawney had long since disappeared, but it didn't matter to his unseeing gaze. His mind raced through the prophecy again and again, each time gaining new meaning or reaching for different possibilities as he worked his way through it. He didn't react when Susan and Daphne took his hands. He never even moved as Amelia slowly set a hand on his shoulder and looked to Dumbledore and Croaker.
"You're certain that this is real?"
"Every word," the headmaster assured her. "Sybill could not have faked it before my very eyes and it would not have been recorded and stored here by magic itself were it not a genuine prophecy."
"But then that means-"
"Quite so," the old wizard asserted sadly before Susan even finished. "One day Harry must either kill or be killed by the Dark Lord. It is the only way to possibly end Voldemort once and for all."
"No, that can't be right," Daphne argued as she took the parchment from Amelia and looked it over. "There has to be another way."
"There is no other way," Dumbledore stated stiffly, though full of sorrow as he tried his best to explain to them this ominous portent of the future. "Prophecy, once made, is written in stone once it has been acted upon. Whether Voldemort ever hears all of it or not, the prophecy will be fulfilled one way or another. Magic will see to it, and if not magic then Voldemort himself will make it a self-fulfilling prophecy. Voldemort did not stop hunting down the possible savior fifteen years ago and he will not stop until either he or Harry lie dead and buried.
"Voldemort's pride demands that Harry die because of this prophecy alone," the headmaster continued to explain as he thought of the great enemy of these troubled times. "The events of the past years, however, have only strengthened what resolve Voldemort has in his quest to end Harry. The rebounded killing curse when Harry was a child, Harry's victory in the conflict to claim the Philosopher's Stone, then perhaps, if he knows of it, the destruction of the memory of Tom Riddle, have made it a certainty that should he return Voldemort will hunt Harry down and force this prophecy to become true one way or another. There is no way out of this prophecy. It must happen and it will, for better or worse."
"Maybe it's not even Harry," Nym jumped in desperately. "It could be someone else for all we know. This could all just be a big mistake and Harry really isn't this… Chosen One or whatever the fuck you want to call it."
"Harry bears the Mark," Dumbledore assured them all as he gestured to Harry's lightning scar. "Two magical children were born at the end of July; Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. Harry, however, was chosen by the Dark Lord to be his equal. Harry is a half blood, just like Voldemort, and because of such a coincidence I believe Harry was deemed the greater threat by the Dark Lord. That is why he chose him, why he killed Harry's parents and attempted to kill Harry. You could argue that Neville was marked by the loss of his parents but it was Voldemort's followers, not Voldemort himself, that marked Neville. No, there is no doubt that the prophecy is about Harry now that he bears the Mark, that Harry is the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord."
"Then what's this power that the Dark Lord doesn't know about?" Amelia interrogated the old wizard.
"Love," the headmaster said softly, a wistful smile upon his aged features. For once during the entire proceedings he seemed both relieved and uplifted at the idea of the prophecy. "I believe the power that the Dark Lord knows not is love. It was love that saved Harry's life when his mother sacrificed herself for him as a child and I surmise that it was her love that protected Harry and destroyed Quirrell's body in the battle for the Philosopher's Stone. It is love that will help him defeat the Dark Lord. That's why it's imperative we surround Harry with love. It's why I… Why I mistakenly sent him to live with his relatives in the hope that he might learn it in a home full of such love, but I was wrong..."
Albus shook his head and a tear was shed by the wizened wizard as he dwelt upon his past mistakes. "I was so dreadfully wrong. However, it seems that my mistake may already have been rectified in all of you. From you, Harry will learn and receive love he has never known and with it find it in himself to defeat the Dark Lord."
The conversation continued to drag on and all the while Harry's gaze was a fixed to the orb. Whatever discussion raged about him passed him by as he thought over the prophecy. It had affected his life and would continue to do so until either he or Voldemort was dead, or so they were all told. Everything around him shifted and tumbled around in his mind as he tried to see beyond what he knew. As his mind eventually settled on a choice, Harry withdrew his hand from Susan's, drew his wand from his pocket, took aim at the softly glowing orb and shattered it without a word as a shining silver bolt shot up into the ceiling upon rebounding off of the enchanted receptacle.
The tinkling rain of glass was accompanied by the rapport of the spell that echoed throughout the hall of prophecies. Croaker shielded himself from the blast and stiffened at the sight of the desecrated receptacle, brightly glowing a cherry red where Harry's magic had struck it, but unharmed otherwise. Every eye turned to Harry, each as uncertain as the next as to what the young man thought as he held his wand perfectly still, pointed right at where the prophecy had been.
"Harry?"
The slow shake of his head was the only signal Harry heard or reacted to anyone as he lowered his wand. Without warning he turned away from the group and began to pace a short ways away, his breath gaining in speed with each step. Nobody dared say a word as they watched the teen, his hands shaking, his wand still glowing with unreleased power. It wasn't until Amelia stepped forward and tried to set a hand on his shoulder once again that he reacted at all. Harry came to a full halt, his emotional gaze, for once, so indiscernible as he looked up at Amelia.
"Harry?" Amelia almost pleaded with him quietly. "What are you thinking?"
Silence reigned for a moment longer as Harry gathered himself, the glow of his wand dimming only slightly.
"I'm tired."
"It's a lot to take in, I know, but-"
"No, Aunt Amy, I'm tired," Harry said more forcefully, his voice almost a growl as he spoke. Where there might have been screaming and raging before, Harry stood still, his voice growing cold as he spoke in utter hatred. "I'm tired of being fate's bitch. Tired of being treated with kid gloves and feeling like a glass menagerie about to tip over at the drop of a hat. I'm tired of being manipulated and used. Tired of being beaten into the ground for every mistake. I'm tired of having to fight for my life every year since I first came to this world. I'm tired of having a madman hunt me down. I'm tired of being the victim!"
Harry looked away from her, his eyes trained on some unknown vision only he could see as he looks to the ceiling so high above where he assumed his spell had gone. As he closed his eyes he didn't see the tears escape the eyes of his loved ones and Dumbledore. Everything had come to a head and Harry was done. He was finished and tired of being on the receiving end of the hell he had faced for years. As he opened his eyes the young man straightened, stood as tall as he could and Amelia saw the young man she had witnessed last New Year's Eve come alive once again.
"I own my life," Harry stated with a natural air of impunity. "Not some prophecy or magic beyond my control. It's my life, not magic's. I will not let my choice be stolen away from me because of some series of events beyond my control. I will not let anyone or anything control how I lead my life. I swear it."
"That prophecy was nothing but spun glass and pretty words," Harry nearly growled as he pointed to the sparkling glass at his feet. "If magic or Voldemort wants to disagree with me they're damned welcome to try and prove me wrong. This life is mine, I claim it for my own. I dare anyone to try and take it from me."
Amelia couldn't help but smile proudly as she witnessed the indomitable truth of her adopted son come to life in his every word. Harry was as adamant as the most ancient fortress and as unconquerable as the most legendary of armies. He would fight with absolutely everything he had to keep the vow he had made. Harry would stand tall and lay in ruin anyone that got in the way of the life he wanted. The confidence and fortitude she saw in him right then was everything she hoped and dreamed she would see in him after all of this time.
"There you are." Amelia whisper for Harry's ears alone. Her smile grew more proud as she gently cupped his cheek. "There's the man I knew you were. Whatever hell we walk through, we walk through together. We're family. You will always have me at your back."
"Thank you, auntie."
"And us," Susan and Daphne declared together as they moved forward embraced him in their arms.
"Whatever it takes-" Susan said.
"-no matter the cost-" Daphne added.
"-we're with you," the pair finished together.
A look at Bill and Nym was all Harry needed to know he had their support. Bill, with his arms crossed and a quiet grin upon his lips was all the affirmation Harry needed to know the redhead would have his back. With a glance to Nym, Harry watched as her eyes shifted green and a small smirk slipped across her lips as she silently declared her intent. Prophecy or not, whether they believed it or not, they would stand by him to the bitter end. Harry hugged Susan and Daphne tight to him, and when Amelia joined them he put his head to hers. Nym and Bill joined them shortly after, enclosing the teen in those he most cared for when he had made his final decision. The quiet moment shared between them all was everything he needed then. Even as it ended, he still stood as tall and steady as he had just moments before.
"Thank you," he whispered earnestly to all of them. "Thank you, all of you," Harry continued as he looked to Bill and Nym. "I hope one day I can even begin to repay you for everything."
"As touching as this ball of angst and fluff really is, you destroyed our recording of the prophecy," Croaker grumbled and groused as he stood on Dumbledore's left side while the family broke apart and straightened themselves out. "The Department of Mysteries does not appreciate your destruction of our work and records."
"Can a replacement be made?" Dumbledore asked slowly.
"It will take time, time better spent on other research," Croaker barked as he took the parchment from Nym, who had gotten her hands on it at some point. Swiftly the unspeakable rolled up the parchment and slipped it into a nearby tube before he capped it. "This remains with us until we are able to make a copy. The magic at work here should recognize the truth of this prophecy and allow it to be recreated exactly as it was."
"Why recreate it at all?" Harry asked cold, iron disdain. "It's worthless."
"To you, maybe," the unspeakable croaked roughly as he stowed the tube containing the prophecy deep inside his cloak. "When the prophecy is fulfilled, and we will know if and when it has been fulfilled, we'll ask to speak with you again to determine just how it happened. Believe it or not, prophecy is mysterious because their resolutions are so rarely recorded and explored, and having proof of how one came to fruition would help greatly with our research, if in fact it comes true despite your efforts. Is the advancement of magical knowledge, even that so mysterious and vague, so unimportant to you that you would refuse us?"
Harry actually raised an eyebrow at the accusation and managed a brief, just barely this side of sheepish grimace as he thought of his outburst. "Not at all. My apologies, Mr. Croaker. I'll help however I can if the prophecy does come true… But I doubt it will."
"Good, now leave," the irritated unspeakable demanded before he gestured to the door. "Please," he added more politely as he looked to Amelia. "We have a lot of work to do and you no doubt have plenty to take care of as well."
The trip back to Bones manor was less subdued than the one that brought them to the Department of Mysteries in the first place, though only just. Despite whatever any of them believed, they all knew there would be hard times ahead. While Harry found Dumbledore's silence on the topic after Harry's resolution welcome, he was also concerned about the lack of insistence that it must happen in one way or another. Whether or not that meant anything, however, didn't matter. What mattered was preparing for the future and beating the odds.
As soon as they reached the manor, Harry went to the training room. The fact that everyone joined him hardly mattered as he began to focus on his magic, that which he had a more instinctual control over than the spells he had been learning at school and from those around him. The usefulness of spells had already been proven but if he was to face anyone in the future Harry needed to do more with it than throw some spells and fire around, he needed to learn how to control his magic absolutely.
Manipulating fire that you conjured in the palms of your hands, however, was much easier said than done. Harry's low strings of curses as he continued to fail advancing his skill with the pale silver and viridian flames were met with swift slaps to the edge of his shoulder from Amelia. The woman did her best to help him as she presided over Susan and Daphne's practice duels until eventually he joined the pair of girls in honing their dueling skills, rotating in sometimes, while others he would be paired with one or the other, or they would be paired against him.
It was well after lunch time that they were all forced to take a break. Amelia had paperwork from the ministry to handle and Bill had his own work that needed tending to. Nym took her leave to speak with her parents and begin spreading the word through private channels, with Amelia and Harry's blessings. As soon as Harry finished eating the sandwiches the elves had prepared for them he made his way into the sitting room. Again he tried to summon the flames until he finally fell asleep on the love seat, his arms folded gently across his stomach, his glasses alone on the side table. It was to this scene that Daphne walked in, her portfolio and supplies in hand as she took a seat in an armchair.
The peaceful rest Harry seemed so wrapped up in instantly drew her in. The slow, serene notes of Susan's violin floating down from their shared room soothed a part of the brunette she never knew was so full of tension all of this time. Daphne found herself reveling in the serene feeling Bones manor exuded in that moment. As one song transformed into another upstairs and carried throughout the manor, Daphne's hands carefully sketched out the details of Harry's face within the portfolio the boy himself had given her.
The clean lines of his nose and jaw, the smooth cheeks below high, soft cheekbones. She drew it all, even the jaw-length hair that fell casually to either side of his head that Daphne had to admit she rather enjoyed running her hands through at every opportunity. The more she drew, the more she appreciated the boy in front of her, not just because of his good looks, but because of what lay behind them. Despite the peace Harry might exude in this moment of respite, she knew demons lurked around every corner of the boy's storied past, and he had come through it all a good man.
The subtle shifting of his resting form hardly startled her. She had gotten the pose down perfectly and rather enjoyed looking upon the difference between sketch and reality. She continued to put finishing touches on her sketch until the shifting grew more pronounced. Curious eyes peered across the room at her silent counterpart until they fell upon his face.
What peace and harmony had come to Harry had finally vanished. Hurt and anguish were all she could see in his clenched jaw and shuddering, scrunched eyelids. The jerk of an arm prompted her to action, and as soon as she set her portfolio and supplies aside Daphne moved to the love-seat and attempted to grab his hand. The sudden strength behind his reaction startled her as she found herself pulled up, hunched over him as she tried to waken him.
"Harry! Harry wake up!" Daphne urged with each breath as she shook him.
It was only when her free hand reached his hair that Harry seemed to react. The slow caress of her fingers through his dark locks as she rubbed his chest seemed to relax him as she continued to whisper his name, hoping not to draw attention to them from the rest of the house. It was only moments later that Harry's eyes snapped open as he gasped for air. In an instant he was sitting upright, a hand curled around Daphne's own as it rested against his chest.
Pain, hurt, anger and confusion coursed through Harry's features as Daphne watched him. Deliberately she sat where he had once laid his head until both of her arms wrapped around him, her soft hands running up his chest as he continued to hold onto one of them. The panicked breathing slowly diminished but a few stray, quiet tears trailed down the boy's cheeks as he eased himself back to her.
"Just a dream?"
The whispered question was a surprise, but Daphne held Harry more tightly in response. "It was. But I'm not, am I?"
She felt a shiver run through him and concern etched itself into the frown of her lips.
"Sometimes I can't tell," Harry admitted bitterly, as he wiped the tears away swiftly. "My dreams, nightmares, they're as real as this," he continued as he squeezed her hand in his for the briefest of moments. "It scares me more than you can imagine when my nightmares can make me believe everything good that's happened to me this past year has been a dream."
"Would we really be just a dream?" Daphne asked as she breathed gently on his neck to try and soothe him.
"An incredible one," answered the wizard with a choked laugh as his body shivered in response to the caress of her breathy words across his neck. "But I'm glad this dream wasn't real..."
The black-haired beauty tilted her head as she perched it upon Harry's right shoulder. Her lavender eyes searched his green gaze for an answer but she found only more confusion. Something else had happened, something he wasn't telling her. "And what exactly was just a dream?"
Harry nearly pulled away but the firm, comforting grip of Daphne's arms trapped him in place. There was no escape, no running, not now anyways. He thought to deflect her like he had atop the astronomy tower, like so many other times over the past year but one look in her eyes stopped him cold. She deserved to know. She had come this far, been with him this long, and she deserved the quiet disclosure she asked for.
"Losing all control of my life," he began in a soft, lost tone as he wandered through the scraps of what he remembered from his dream. "The prophecy took you from me, controlled my life when I should have. You, Susan, Amelia, Nym, Bill, our friends, everyone. One by one you were all taken away. One second you were there, next I would turn around and you'd be dead, or missing, or happier with someone else… Anything I did only made it worse or did nothing at all. A prisoner being tortured in more ways than one. Beaten behind the bars that kept me from keeping all of you safe, from keeping your love… I never want to feel that powerless and alone again, even though I know I'll never stop my nightmares from tormenting me."
"And despite all of that pain, all of your quiet suffering, we're still here," Daphne reassured him with a kiss to his neck that had him tilting his head away to give her room. "We're here when you wake up, we're here when you need to talk, and we're here when you need to feel real."
Daphne's lips again pressed to Harry's throat. The soft petals of her lips, gently pulling on his skin sent a shiver through Harry he had experienced before at the hands of this sultry young woman. The panic, the fear, faded with each word she spoke and each press of her lips against his neck. Finally he bit his lip, anxious for more as he turned his head. Daphne wasn't one to deny him, not now, and quickly she captured his lips with her own.
The moment his lips met hers he breathed in relief. The taste of her, her scent, everything about her woke him up to the world he lived in, not the one his mind tried to force him into in his darkened rest. Daphne gently pried his lips open and Harry felt a thrill run through him as her tongue invaded his mouth and mind. He welcomed her as best he could and let the moment take him before he felt her lips drift away. A quiet breath of mourning, nearly a groan of loss was on his lips until he felt her move.
Their bodies shifted on the couch and in moments Harry found himself seated upright on the couch as the stunning beauty maneuvered around his trim form and slowly descended into his lap. As if it was the most natural thing in the world Harry's hands found her legs as she straddled him. Her legs as smooth as ever and Harry couldn't help but rub and knead her thighs in his hands, a temptation he indulged in every chance he got. His eyes, however, locked onto the lavender gaze that so often enjoyed teasing him. There was no mischief in her eyes this time but an intimacy and earnestness he couldn't help but be drawn into as she settled in on top of him.
Her lips descended on his again and Harry answered in kind. Much more quickly he pried open her lips and worked his tongue along the fine contours of her mouth, mapping and exploring her just as he had a dozen times before. The moan in her throat only urged him further as his hands slid up her creamy, tan thighs and slipped higher. Beneath her skirt his fingers crept until he cradled her ass in his hands. The thrill of the moment found them both and the pair ground against each-other as he squeezed each cheek in his hands.
The long, low moan of his partner seemed to beg for more and Harry was all too willing to answer the call. Even as their lips parted, his own trailed down her neck to return the favor from earlier. The soft gasps and hitches in Daphne's voice as she held onto him only raised Harry's flag higher, strained his slacks even further. The grinding increased, their need amplified with each moment as Daphne felt his lips trail low down her v-neck blouse. Eventually his lips kissed and gently tugged upon her bountiful cleavage, her large, full breasts practically straining against her shirt as the teenage girl arched into his ministrations.
Harry's barely restrained girth ground against her moistening panties with every moment he pleased her. His hands, so used to massaging her flesh, feasted upon her ass and sent a thrill of need through her like few she had ever experience. Oh if only they didn't have clothes on, Daphne would give herself to him in a heartbeat. Everything in her screamed to let it happen, begged to let him take her as she brought his face back up and locked lips with him once again.
Only this time when their lips parted, they remained apart. The soft panting that came from each of them washed over the other as Daphne set her forehead to his, a happy smile on her lips as she practically felt the relief in him. Then again, any tension from the dreams had only been replaced by a different kind, one centered on the hard tenting in his pants she currently felt against herself.
"Was that just a dream?" Daphne breathed as her amethyst orbs met his jade eyes.
"I wouldn't mind getting lost in it for a while longer if it was," Harry panted lightly as his hands gently squeezed her ass. "But this is definitely not a dream."
"Good," the dark-haired beauty sighed as she sat up just a little on his lap, pressing herself to him and causing the green-eyed wizard to hiss and groan with need. "Because I'm happy, and so are you. I intend for us to stay that way. There's no getting rid of me, Harry. There's no getting rid of any of us."
Harry's smile was as happy as she had ever seen. New Year's Eve, the trips back home for Christmas and summer, it all swirled in her mind as she watched him and enjoyed the feel of his hands gently kneading the flesh of her rear. But as much as she would love to continue, she knew the temptation might become too much, too quickly very soon.
"Hands off of my ass, Potter."
The light-hearted smirk on her lips took any bite out of her tone but Harry did as she asked, though reluctantly. His hands slowly trailed along her thighs and with a pleased, though forlorn, sigh, Daphne stood up. Harry shifted to try and hide the tenting in his trousers, his cheeks flushed brightly at his reaction when he saw Daphne eye the bulge and lick her lips in anticipation. The brunette offered him a wink before she moved over to her armchair and grabbed her supplies once again only to return and sit next to him.
"I thought you'd like to see this," Daphne murmured as she held open the portfolio on the sketch of him sleeping peacefully.
"You drew me in my sleep?" The tone was as far from accusing as Daphne could imagine. In fact if anything she could only label his tone was awed disbelief that she would draw something so seemingly innocuous. "Why?"
"I thought you looked handsome," she replied honestly as she caressed the sketch's cheek as if Harry himself would feel it. "I also thought it was good to see you resting so peacefully. You so often talk of nightmares, terrors, and dark dreams that I wanted to remember you more for other things. This picture can be a reminder of that, for both of us."
Harry couldn't help but smile at the tender words Daphne conveyed to him. The sight of himself asleep and serene for a time was a welcome sight indeed. That Daphne had given it to him, even if just for a moment, was enough to make him smile brightly. Only the trace of a finger along his own jaw, one that mirrored Daphne's earlier action upon the sketch, awoke him to the slight smirk on her lips as he looked to her.
"You look much better this way," she pointed out airily. "Why can't I see more of this?"
"You don't kiss me nearly enough," he chuckled before she caught his lips in another brief kiss.
"Then we'll have to make it a habit," she prodded back as she flipped through the pages of her portfolio. Harry respectfully turned his gaze away before Daphne's dainty fingers gently drew him back to face her so she could look in his eyes. "It's alright to look. It's nothing improper… Unless you want to see those sketches. Then I'd get to see how big that bulge really gets."
"It's nothing like that," Harry admitted, though inwardly he wondered just what sort of naughty art the brunette had gotten up to. "But it's private," he debated with her as he kept his eyes locked on hers. "These are your sketches and drawings and I don't want to intrude on what's essentially a visual diary."
Daphne sat quietly, piecing together just how perceptive Harry really could be as she thought just how right he could actually be. The state of a drawing could tell a lot about a person's emotions at the time of its creation. What would her portfolio say about her? The question vanished, however, as she opened the portfolio wide in a show of absolute trust.
"You've trusted me, it's time for me to return the favor a bit," Daphne finally answered as she turned the page once again. The sight that greeted them was a picture of them all curled up on the couch. For a moment Harry wondered how she had drawn it until he saw a picture of them asleep standing still between that page and the next. "Amelia took the picture the night of the storm. I saw it and asked if I could borrow it. We're not asleep here, though."
Harry looked at the still drawing again and saw that they weren't asleep as they had been the night Amelia awoke them at midnight after the last Radio Theater show ended. Instead Harry's arm was cradling Sue while his fingers were curled in Daphne's hair. Daphne had her arms around Susan, and the redhead had hers around Harry. The picture of Daphne smiled softly as she looked at Susan and Harry, while Harry looked back at the girls happily and Susan looked grateful, content to be in their arms, bundled in blankets, safe from the storm and everything and everyone that might harm them.
The teen wizard couldn't help but smile as he let his actual hand gently slip into Daphne's hair, which had reached her lower waist in length. The feel of his hand through her dark locks brought a smile to the witch's face as she turned the page again. A picture of Amelia at her desk, a book in one hand and a glass of crème liquor in the other passed them by as Daphne turned it again, revealing a follow up image of Bill and Amelia kissing in the tent the night of the Quidditch World Cup.
Harry stilled as he remembered that moment but the sincere look of content in his eyes told Daphne she wasn't the only one that approved. She had shown the same sketch to Susan and the redhead had been fairly agreeable to the sight. All of the new people entering her and her aunt's lives was taking some time to adjust to and that was perfectly fine. In fact, Daphne knew that Susan rather liked Bill Weasley as a partner for her aunt, the younger redhead was just a bit possessive and needed some more time to adjust accordingly.
Possessive is definitely the right word… Though, aren't we all? Daphne thought with a slight smirk as she turned the page again. Over and over the pair looked at one image and made a small comment or offered a smile, a laugh, maybe even a moment of silence.
Harry had gone stock still when she revealed a sketch of Harry raging in the hospital wing, screaming at Dumbledore, his every mark and scar on display. Even with the expressions of concern so clearly and expertly sketched on the faces of others, Harry turned his gaze away from the image. The teen didn't like his scars, not in the least. Only the ones he earned from Buckbeak were any sort of badge of honor, the rest were just a field of darkness he wished to never lose himself in ever again. Mentally he knew he would live with the scars for the rest of his natural life, but it didn't mean he had to enjoy being reminded of where they had come from or how those closest to him had discovered his secret.
It was only when Daphne turned the page that Harry stopped shifting uncomfortably and smiled.
"I remember that night," Harry said as he traced the large moon in the background. "I went up to the top of the astronomy tower for some quiet time to think and you interrupted me. My quiet time was interrupted quite a lot that day, actually."
"Well you know witches, we love to talk," Daphne drawled sarcastically as she tilted her head and looked at the picture of her and Harry on top of the astronomy tower. "I remember you saying your name and accomplishments, just like I hear you do some mornings when I come down for breakfast before anyone but you."
"I remember you twisting it," Harry shot back lightly as he examined the picture. "But I couldn't be mad at you, not then and certainly not now."
"Even if I added 'loves to grab my arse and gets hard every time we kiss' to it instead?" The jovial, suggestive lilt in her voice lightened the blow of his fingers against her arm as he swat her playfully, a furious blush on his cheeks as he shook his head.
"You're absolutely incorrigible," Harry muttered as he kept his eyes on the page.
"Oh I know," Daphne cooed as she leaned in close to him. "Just like someday I'll probably add something even more risqué about how you make me scream your name in ecstasy each night."
Harry's blush intensified and a defeated sigh escaped him as he couldn't help but chuckle at her words. The teens laughed together for a moment before Harry caught his breath and peered at her curiously.
"You know, I never did learn what you were doing up there so late at night, or on the night I first introduced you to thestrals and the dozen or so times I saw you sneaking about the castle," he mentioned idly. "You and the other slytherins always kept your little late night outings under wraps. What were you doing, anyways?"
"Well it's not like you wouldn't have found out eventually," Daphne sighed almost happily as she leaned back on the couch and closed her portfolio. The teen witch held it across her stomach and bunched her arms atop it, pushing her breasts up to display even more of her heavenly bountiful cleavage as she divulged this secret of hers. "I was setting up a dead drop for one of my clients. Dad helped me set up a bit of a business venture at Hogwarts back in first year but I didn't gain much traction until near the end of second year."
Daphne smirked as she remembered how much her business had grown. "Last year I solidified my place as a procurer of goods and made sure everyone knew if they needed something not exactly on the approved list that I could get it for them. Before I even went to lay the dead drop that night I had smuggled in some stimulant potions for the fifth and seventh years and an extra load of chocolate from Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley to sell to the first and second years. I made quite a bit of coin getting it all in for a marked up price, especially on the potions. Of course, only a few people outside of Slytherin actually bought from me but it was enough to spread my network beyond the Snake Pit. Mostly Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs."
"Couldn't we just order those sort of things ourselves?" Harry asked, confused as to why that would be a problem.
"Certainly, but not everyone has an owl and any potions ordered from outside the school usually go through inspection first with Snape. He makes sure nobody takes anything dangerous or too much of something. A lot of older students get around those restrictions by getting what they want from me," the Slytherin explained as she divulged some of the details of the business she had started in the school. "My dad and I have a system to get everything into the school and I've begun providing things nobody else can get. Word spread and by the end of last year I had most of Slytherin asking me to get something or other for them. Only three badgers and six eagles ever became customers but those were mostly upper years looking to get an extra boost for their exams. With a little help I could expand that network even further throughout all of the houses. I could even bring my services to the visiting students this year if I act quickly enough."
Harry stared at Daphne in awe. He had heard the stories that her father used to smuggle things into the country, and likely still did in occasion, but he hadn't thought she would actually get into the business so soon herself. Then again, as he thought over the conversations he'd had with her and her father he could see the similarities. She used her beauty and stoic image as a front to protect herself, and the business she got could also be used against others if she set it up right. The fact that she hadn't been caught only earned her even more respect from him.
"Well I can't let you do everything alone can I? Not if you intend to support me in my own endeavors," Harry offered with a smile as he watched her closely. "I'll try to help if I can."
"I was hoping you would say that," Daphne said instantly as she pulled him to sit back and relax on the couch next to her while she gave him a tempting kiss on his neck as her hand slid down his stomach. "I didn't even have to offer any little favors either… A shame, I think I would have enjoyed that."
As Daphne chuckled seductively, Harry couldn't help but shake his head, a crooked grin on his lips. "You really are just an absolute terrible tease to me sometimes."
"Mmm true, but we know we mean more to each-other than some titillation and touching," Daphne said as she pulled away slightly to offer him genuine smile before she gave him a tender, meaningful kiss. "But I really am glad you're willing to help me. I was afraid you'd go to Amy and say something to try and stop me… even if she already knows and approves since she knows I'm far more responsible than anyone else that might attempt it…"
"I wouldn't do that," Harry answered instantly as he cupped her cheek in his hand. "It's not like you're actually hurting anyone and it's something you enjoy doing. Who am I to get in the way of you garnering experience before you step up to handle the family business, or your own branch of it? Besides, I support you just like you support me."
"Good, I'm glad you agree with that," the brunette said as a rare shy smile peeked past her lips as her hair cascaded across her face to hide a slight blush. "I was afraid you wouldn't approve or want to help a rebellious teenage smuggler like myself."
"Well if you want I could extort and blackmail you for sex or whatever else I might I want if that's what you really want me to do."
Daphne laughed and gently swat Harry's arms as she laid her head on his shoulder. "You're such a bloody prat sometimes…"
"And yet you still care about me," Harry noted easily.
"I'll always care about you, even when you're being a prat," Daphne answered in soft, intimate tones as she looked up at him. "Especially when you're being a broody prat." Harry offered a wide smile at that, one Daphne gladly returned before she continued on the original topic at hand. "So with your help in Gryffindor, Susan's in Hufflepuff, and Padma's in Ravenclaw I should be able to reach most of the school and create a bigger network for my business. As far as the visiting schools go, I'm sure something can be worked out. I bet by next year I really will be the Ice Queen of Hogwarts itself, managing my business any way I please for the benefit of me and mine. My own little empire is in the making."
"You're an absolutely terrible influence on us," Harry teased as he took her hand in his and gently ran his thumb up and down the back of it.
"Admit it, you love breaking the rules and pushing boundaries," Daphne breathed in his ear as her lips teased his earlobe.
A shiver ran through Harry as he eased into her touch. "Yes, yes I do you devious minx."
"Good," she spouted as her hand slid toward his pants. Harry tensed, a part of him hoping she really would reach down and take things to the next level. When his green eyes met her lavender gaze, however, it was all over. Daphne moved with a quick hop off of the couch as she gathered her supplied straightened herself up a bit, smoothing out her previously thoroughly ruffled appearance from their more intimate moments. "Now it's about time for supper. We don't want to keep them waiting, do we?"
Harry's jaw dropped as he looked after Daphne, shock and dismay upon his face until he caught the exaggerated, tempting sway of her hips as the brunette strutted her way out of the room.
"Damn cheating witch! Get back here!" Harry yelled after her as he grabbed his glasses and gave chase while Daphne's laughter echoed behind her all the way to the kitchen.