The sun was setting over the hills of Hogwarts. A hue of scarlet orange painted the countryside. The light filtered in through a stained glass window of the high castle, and fell on none other than Albus Dumbledore.

Days passed since the confrontation at the Ministry -which was now being referred to as the Battle of the Department of Mysteries- and each of those days had come with a different blessing of its own. The morning after the battle had Dumbledore reinstated as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and his first act had been to remove Umbridge and any traces of her Educational Decrees from the school. Last Harry heard she had multiple cases being filed against her by unhappy parents; things were not looking good. She'd be lucky to retain a job at the Ministry, but ever returning Hogwarts was far out of question.

The days that followed were been spent mostly in the hospital wing by Harry and his friends. They had an occasional visit from a Ministry official, who treated them nothing short of royalty while getting their statements. It was during one of these visits that they learned the news about Sirius; the proof the Dark Lord had returned, as well as first hand accounts from Dumbledore and Snape, meant he was now cleared of all charges. Not only was Sirius Black no longer a wanted man, but Peter Pettigrew, who the Ministry now recognized as being alive and well, had his First Class Order of Merlin seal stripped and awarded to Sirius instead. He had turned down any kind of formal ceremony, but had graciously taken the title.

Harry and Sirius were sitting through their first official press conference, and had been doing so for well over two hours now. Just mundane stuff, mostly Dumbledore answering the questions and recounting the story of what happened over and over. Harry had gave an occasional one worded response, but Sirius sat beside him in impatient silence. This was his first public appearance since being officially cleared of charges, but despite this, nobody in the room seemed eager to ask him anything.

"How much bloody longer is this going on for?" he whispered to Harry.

The sunlight formed a solid line along the wall of the office and was slowly sinking across the room. Harry had mostly zoned out, only ever returning to the conference when he caught a buzzword or a particularly loud cough grabbed his attention.

A posh-looking man in the crowd of gathered reporters stood up and rose his hand.

"Aldrich Gideon of Transfiguration Today. A question for Mister Dumbledore?"

The Headmaster, now looking considerably more tired than he did at the start of the conference, nodded his head.

"By all means."

"Are they true, the rumors of Fudge's resignation?"

Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh.

"Last night, the Minister of Magic was kind enough to finally corroborate mine and Mister Potter's claim that the Dark Lord Voldemort has indeed returned; a fact I believe that he has been aware of and choosing to remain silent over for some time now. Since then he has reinstated my position as Headmaster of Hogwarts and offered an official apology. This is what I know, and it's what you know. If there is more to this story, I am as of yet, unaware."

A floating quill beside the man scratched down the answer.

"Matthew Goldstein of The New York Ghost," a second reporter said. "A question for Mister Dumbledore."

Dumbledore gave a gesture for him to continue.

"Lucius Malfoy has been arrested under the accusation of being a Death Eater. My question is, were you ever suspicious of him, and do you feel guilty having had a Death Eater on the Hogwarts Board of Governors?"

Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh and nodded his head.

"Mister Malfoy was only excused from Azkaban during the first war by claiming to be have done Lord Voldemort's bidding while under the influence of the Imperius curse. Without the evidence to convict him, he walked free. Unlike the Death Eaters, I do not hate blindly because of pre-determined opinions. I, however, will be shell-shocked if I find he has escaped conviction this time around. Next question?"

The reporter scribbled down his answer and sat down.

"Xenophilius Lovegood of The Quibbler, Headmaster," a voice came from the side. "My daughter was present at the battle of the Department of Mysteries."

Harry peaked an eyebrow. One look at the man and his connection to Luna was obvious, and not just by the head of brilliant white hair.

"I am well aware of Miss Lovegood's roll during the skirmish, Mister Lovegood," said Dumbledore. "She is a credit to her house and will be rewarded handsomely for her bravery and quick thinking. What is your question?"

"Can you corroborate the claim that the defeat and arrest of the Death Eaters took place in the Death Chamber? It's existence has been denied by the Ministry for years, yet the eye witnesses are very vocal about what they saw. What else is the Ministry hiding from us?"

Dumbledore's face broke into a subtle smile. It was the first sign of being entertained he had shown all evening.

"Xenophilius, I speak both to you and your readers when I say this: I have no idea quite to the extent of what's in our world. In my time I've seen magic thought dead for millennia, artifacts capable of unimaginable power and once even a man who enjoyed pineapple on pizza. If those things could exist, then I ask you, why is the existence of the Death Chamber so far-fetched to believe? And furthermore, why would the Ministry lie about what is, in reality, a rather mundane thing, when compared to the outer extents of our world?"

Mister Lovegood didn't looked entirely pleased with the answer he had received but wrote it down regardless.

"Rita Skeeter of The Daily Prophet," came a familiar voice from the crowd. "A question for Mister Potter?"

It took Harry a second to realize the eyes were now on him. He gave a polite smile and half-lifted himself towards the Headmasters podium.

"Yeah?"

Before she spoke, Rita gave a laugh that almost resembled a growl.

"Is it true that The-Boy-Who-Lived has had his heart stolen by the icy daughter of a former Death Eater, Miss Daphne Greengrass?"

A chorus of ugly mumbling and groans met her from across the room. A hot blush made its way to Harry's cheeks. Reporters shuffled their positions to send scowls her way. The atmosphere in the room seemed to degrade a few notches. He tried to hide his face from Rita's view, which cause Sirius to set about laughing beside him.

Sirius leaned over him and replaced his position at Dumbledore's podium.

"No comment, thank you."

The audience settled at Sirius's intervention. A few of them still regarded him with scared eyes. Despite the obvious uncomfort, he decided to linger on the podium.

"No questions for me?" he asked with a chuckle, "I didn't sit in Azkaban for twelve years to sit here like a third wheel, you know."

There was no immediate response. The reporters stared up at him with alarmed expressions almost as if expecting him to start firing death curses into the audience. Even Rita Skeeter had noticeably fallen silent.

Then, from the back of the room, a single hand rose above the crowd.

"Bathilda Bagshot. Author of Hogwarts: A History, the History of Magic and The Decline of Pagan Magic, among others. Might I request a private interview at a date of your convenience, Mister Black? I find your case most intriguing, but of course, I imagine being cleared of charges, you probably wish to experience the world a free man before anything else."

Sirius muffled his laughter, then seemed to struggle with himself for a moment.

"Honestly, being able to walk through freely through the castle that I called home for so many years was on the top of my bucket list," he told the crowd. "Now, I want to relax and live a peaceful life with my godson."

He then quickly added, "Big fan of your books, by the way," and gestured to Dumbledore, "that old codger had me studying them for seven years, and let me tell you… made Azkaban seem like a holiday."

There was a splattering of chuckles throughout the room. Most of them nervous, but some genuine.

Dumbledore retook his position at the podium.

"And if that will be all, I would like to bring this meeting to a close. It has been an honor having you all in the castle and I do hope that myself, Mister Potter and Mister Black have helped open some eyes today. We all look forward to reading your reports in your respective papers."

Harry gave a brief wave to the crowd as the stood up from their seats and began to slowly gather and pile out of the Headmasters office. Dumbledore moved to guide them out, while he and Sirius lingered near their seats.

"That actually went better than I was expecting," Sirius mused. "Times seem to finally be looking up."

Harry offered him a small, but genuine smile.

"About time things finally started going our way. "

Sirius glanced around -Harry knew he was checking for any wandering ears- then looked back at him and began to speak in a hushed tone.

"Don't let Rita Skeeter embarrass you, my boy. You're worth a thousand of her. Umbitch is gone, Fudge doesn't think you're a liar, Dumbledore's back… This is a happy time. You shouldn't let anyone take that away from you."

Harry nodded, but struggled to match Sirius's enthusiasm.

For all intents and purposes, he should be happy. But there was a lingering, nagging feeling in the back of his head that was stopping him.

A little while ago he was one of the most hated people in all of Hogwarts. Probably the entire country, in fact. His house hated him, the public thought him a murderer and he'd pushed away the girl who had risked everything to be with him. He would have given anything to prove his innocence, and now he'd been given exactly that. He was back to being hailed as a hero; any arguments between he and Ron had vanished as soon as they had a common enemy to work against, and even Daphne had denounced her own house to help him. And topping off all of those, Sirius was alive and well.

Yet there was still something unsettled within him. Perhaps things had come out a little too cleanly? He'd gone from one end to the polar opposite, maybe his mind was still struggling to catch up? Or maybe everything really was fine and he was just looking for reasons to not be happy? It wouldn't be the first time he'd caught himself doing that this year.

"And you should know… little Miss Greengrass is by no means someone to be ashamed of... you could have done a lot worse, if you don't mind me saying..."

A smile sparked on Harry's face. Sirius's tone was a familiar one, and a glance back at him confirmed he was taking an immense amount of pleasure from teasing him.

Harry tried to find his words. He had a full speech and confession prepared for how he was going to reveal their affair to Sirius, but now the situation was upon him, he struggled to remember any of what he had planned.

"She's in Slytherin… I didn't think the Order would be okay with it."

Sirius shook his head, his smile unphased.

"I come from a family of Death Eaters, Harry! As did Tonks and her mother. Unlike the Death Eaters, we're not as eager to lock someone in a box. We're always eager to welcome young minds into the cause. Someone is going to have to run the world after us lot have bit the dust. If you can vouch for her, then that's enough for me. I'll stand by you, no matter what Mad Eye says."

"Moody has a problem with it?"

"Are you really surprised?" Sirius laughed. "Admittedly it did cause quite an argument between some of us... Molly is half and half on it, but I think she'll come around. To everyone's shock, it was actually Severus of all people who pushed to let it play it naturally."

Harry nodded slowly. He didn't know how he felt about Snape wanting he and Daphne to stay to be together, but decided not to question further. If what Sirius said was true, then Snape had certainly come a long way from launching him across the room after first discovering them together.

"How is the girl? I haven't had chance to thank her for saving my life."

Harry had yet to see Daphne since her disappearance during the battle, but Tracey had reassured him she had, in fact, returned to the castle and was keeping a distance to uphold appearances.

"I'm not sure," Harry shook his head. "She's staying away from me until the drama dies down, I don't blame her either."

Sirius smiled.

"Would love to meet her, you know. We probably have a lot in common. Her decision to act against her father is not unlike the one I also made at her age. And likewise, I need not remind you that it was the Potter's I had supporting me when I did."

"I'm afraid that will have to wait, Sirius," Dumbledore approached them now that the room had emptied. "Miss Greengrass is currently in a meeting with Professor Snape, I suspect they shall be awhile."

"Sour Grape Snape, typical as always," Sirius shook his head. "Still, you should invite her to Grimmauld Place sometime. Tell her she's welcome anytime."

A rush of excitement flowed through Harry at the thought of it.

"Yeah... I think i'd like that."

The castle halls had been quiet, even for a Sunday. Students and teachers alike were out on the sunny grounds, relishing the end of their exams and enjoying a time unhampered by homework or markings.

The dungeons couldn't be more removed from the glowing atmosphere of the land above. It almost made them seem darker, in fact. The air had gone stale, and the distant laughter of students were drowned out by the dripping of water and scurrying mice.

Snape did not make frequent trips to his students private dormitories, but even he could sense something was not right. Whatever he had pictured Greengrass's dormitory as normally, this had not been it. Mess littered the floor, screwed up letters overflowed from the rubbish bin and he was sure when he entered he'd trod on broken glass.

The girl in question refused to come out as they conversed, so Snape's entire evening had been spent talking to a bed curtain.

"You're being dramatic." he groaned. "With the Dark Lord involved… you'll have found that events could have gone a lot worse. Not dying should be considered a victory. Not to mention he was unable to get his hands on the boys prophecy. You could not have come out of the situation any better."

If not for the sound of clothes being folded and thrown into a suitcase, it could have been thought he was talking to himself.

"You chose love over politics," Snape clarified, as cold as ever. "Feel accomplished; I know more than handful of people who wished they were strong enough to make the same decision... It automatically elevates you above any Death Eater. Between you and Potter, you have created a bridge many of us thought impossible. It may end up being the means to an end for this war."

When still no response came, Snape hissed and swatted away at dangling part of the curtain.

He had been trying for days to get he and Greengrass alone together, and even now that he'd managed that she'd gone as far to hide behind a curtain from him. They had things to go over; her decision needed talking about and discussing, yet she still seemed dead-set on fighting him at every opportunity.

He had well and truly spent more than enough time dealing with the angsty emotions of a teenage girl.

"You cannot hide from this, Greengrass!"

A sigh came that was so quiet, he had to press his ear against the curtain to hear the rest.

"I don't want your future."

Snape let out a growl of frustration. He was growing impatient. He had better things to do with his Sunday evenings than argue with a curtain.

"You certainly seemed very positive about the future when you betrayed your allegiance, and helped saved Sirius Black's life!" he snapped. "Whether you like it or not, you made a choice, and now you need to follow that though. You've made yourself a very vulnerable person, and not mention a valuable asset for the Dark Lord, should he get his hands on you. You do not understand the danger you are now in; The Order of the Phoenix can help you, they will take you to a safe house. There you will be questioned, protected! None of that can happen while I'm stood here talking to a bloody curtain!"

He crossed his arms, and with a defeated sigh, shook his tediously.

"Benedict did this, didn't he? Your father told you you're a disgrace to the family, made you feel bad about yourself and now you've gone rushing back to him with your tail between your legs! Am I correct?"

It took a second, but finally there was an worthy response. The sound of folding ceased, and a hand made its way out from behind the curtain.

Daphne stepped into the light. Snape, unprepared, took a step back.

"He did that to you?"

Daphne nodded once, but remained cold.

Snape's nostrils flared.

"A man that would do that to his daughter is not a man... nor is he worthy of being a father."

Daphne did not respond, but simply sank back into the darkness of her bed curtains.

"Are you still welcome at home?" Snape asked after a minute.

Daphne gave a sudden, unexpected, and noticeably forced laugh.

"Welcome isn't exactly the word I'd pick... but I'm allowed to go back, if that's what you mean. I'm expected back."

Snape began quietly, looking as if every word was putting him through tremendous effort.

"You could stay in the castle permanently… if worst should come to it. It's not unheard of for students in unsafe households to seek refuge within the walls of Hogwarts."

"Sympathy is noted and appreciated, Professor, but..." she gave him a false smile and shook her head. "I deserve everything I have coming to me."

Snape surveyed her for a second before speaking again.

"Oh, can we not? Say what you must to survive, I hardly blame you... but I want you to know that not for a second do I believe a word of it. All ll I ask is that you listen carefully; if you have half a brain on your shoulders, take my advice and get yourself clear from all of this. Seek asylum with the Order. You don't have to decide now, but soon. You will find nothing but death and betrayal with the Death Eaters."

A heavy silence settled in over the dormitory. Neither the Professor nor Daphne made a sound. Even the distant cries of laughter seemed to fallen silent. The stillness was absolute.

"About your prophecy…" Snape said after a moment.

"It was smashed."

Her answer was quick. Snape cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced, and reiterated, "Are you absolutely positive?"

"Yes."

"... and you were not able to hear it before it was destroyed?"

"I did not."

A moment lingered where both dared each other to speak next. It was very obvious Snape did not buy a word of what she was feeding him, but her tone almost taunted him to push further.

"You should know, Miss Greengrass, that I'm a particularly skilled Legilimens. Now, baring that in mind, I want you to consider very carefully if your prophecy was smashed or not."

"Pardon me, Professor, but if you're so good, why don't you tell me if it was smashed?" Her voice was cold, but had an underlying snark to it.

If Greengrass was determined to refuse cooperation, then so be it, it was time for Snape to leave.

Her words brought back a million memories of similar decisions he'd made at her age, and as such, he knew he would have better luck arguing with a dungeon wall than getting through to her. This was far from being all over, but he had to respect his role in the events that were due to play out.

He crossed the room, and paused as his hand touched her door handle.

"I don't believe in giving unnecessary praise to my students…" he didn't turn around as he spoke, "but I believe under the circumstances, a reminder you're one of my top pupils is necessary. You have potential of a great witch in the making... You'll be wise to not throw that away."

He couldn't see the girls' face, but when she next spoke, her voice was gentler than before.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

He opened the door and stepped out into the communal hallway between the girls dormitories.

"Your train leaves soon, rush and you could still make it. I'll see you soon, Greengrass..."

The door clicked shut behind him, echoing loudly through the dungeon chambers.

Daphne remained still for a long time after he left.

The very last thing she wanted to do right now was see her housemates. Complete and total isolation was a valued luxury to her these days.

When she did eventually decide to continue her organizing, she made a beeline for her trunk. Pulling away some crumbled robes from the very bottom of her suitcase, she took out a badly wrapped package. She pulled a crystal ball out from the packaging, examining it.

Her reflection really was a mess. The swelling had not gone down, and even now her face was still stinging. It hadn't been as one-sided as she'd let it on to be, of course. She'd even gotten a few hits in herself. But her father was, and always had been, a better fighter than her. Especially when he was finally pushed to his breaking point.

Snape lived up to his name of a self-proclaimed master of Legilimency; she was lying through her teeth with almost every word she'd said. She had said what needed to be said. She was in an all new level of danger now, she couldn't afford to trust anyone other than herself.

She looked around, double checking she was truly alone. An over precaution, as she'd heard Snape's footsteps all the way out into the common room, but her rising heart rate kept her on edge. She looked back to the crystal ball, raised it in front of her face with trembling hands and opened her mouth, her breath misting the surface of the ball.

She held it to her ear for the dozenth time today, and a ghostly voice whispered to her.

Revelations are underway. The change that was promised; from glory to glory.

Authority is Power. Influence is Responsibility. Redemption is Betrayal.

Is the terror of a wrong decision preferable to the risk of indecision?

She almost had the words committed to memory. It was specific enough to frighten her, but obscure enough to linger relentlessly in her mind. She knew better than to argue with destiny, but what exactly was her destiny telling her?

She'd have more than enough time to decipher its meaning these coming holidays. Her father had her meeting some very important people soon...

And she knew what awaited her if she disappointed them.