Third story in which the friends are stronger together than apart

Harry's heart pounded in his chest like a small drum spurring on their shadowy companions as he descended the long stairs into the dungeons with Ron and Hermione. Their shadows came from the torches on the walls, their flames flickering menacingly in the cold air. Harry, however, wasn't afraid of any shadowy creatures. He knew what would await them in the darkness, at least in part, if the other elements of his fairy tale had also become reality. For some of the dangers that the friends would have to face, he had not found a way out last night, had left the places on the parchment blank to be filled in later.

That was no longer possible, and the knowing uncertainty a demon gnawing at him. But he had to be brave. He owed that to Daphne. He had to be as brave as she was. From the beginning, she had stood up for him, even if this had often brought her into conflict with her own house…

Their first Potions class was held deep down in the dungeons, a cold, dark place that not even the blood-splattered armours in the corridors and the echoing howls of doomed ghosts could brighten. Still, Harry entered the classroom with a sense of anticipation. Potions he imagined would be exciting, if only to be able to threaten Dudley with poisoning.

He looked for a seat in the front row and Ron sat down next to him, as he had in previous classes. Then Harry suddenly noticed a blonde glimmer next to him, and the next moment Daphne was sitting in the empty seat to his right.

"Hi, Harry. Long time no see," she said lightheartedly, as if she didn't even notice the suspicious looks the other Slytherins were giving her.

"Well, why did you have to go to Slytherin," Harry said.

Daphne just shrugged. "Actually, the Sorting Hat has considered two houses for me, even if –"

She didn't get to finish her words because just at that moment, Professor Snape, the Potions teacher, stepped in front of the class. Like the previous teachers, he began the lesson by reading the list of names, and like the previous teachers, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," said Snape spitefully. "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."

Gloating laughter rang out from the Slytherins, only Daphne, like the Gryffindors, remained silent. Already Harry had lost all desire for Potions class. This did not change when, after his words of welcome, Snape apparently wanted to make him look like a fool in front of the assembled class.

"Potter!" Snape turned to him. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Daphne tense up at the question. She seemed to want to say something but closed her mouth again before a sound came out. Hermione's hand, meanwhile, had shot into the air, but Harry had no idea what an asphodel was, let alone what its root did. Ron looked just as baffled as he did.

"I don't know, sir," he said.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything," Snape replied amid the gloating laughter of the Slytherins. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry also had no clue what a bezoar was, so he had no choice but to say again, "I don't know, sir."

Snape grinned maliciously at him, and Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle shook with laughter. "Thought it wouldn't be necessary to open a book before coming here, did you, Potter?"

That seemed to have been too much for Daphne. "Professor, that's not fair!" she cried indignantly. "It's not in the first-year textbooks. You can't expect –"

"What I can and cannot do is entirely my decision, Greengrass," Snape interrupted her. "It would behoove you to consider that. Especially given your friends, who are already so … unusual. I would very much regret having to approach your parents about such misbehaviour. Why don't you sit next to Miss Parkinson? I am sure you could learn a lot from her level-headed and well-mannered ways."

Harry had no idea what well-mannered ways Snape was referring to, as Parkinson and her seatmate Bulstrode began giggling like hyenas at his words.

"Thank you for pointing that out, Professor," Daphne replied, her voice not sounding grateful at all. "I am very pleased with my friends, whose kindness could be taken as an example by so many."

Snape snorted disdainfully before turning and hitting the blackboard with his wand. "Here are the instructions for a simple healing potion for boils. Even students as resistant to learning as Potter should be able to make it. You have forty minutes. Form pairs. Get on with it."

A loud commotion broke out in the dungeon as the students took out their utensils and began to follow their teacher's unequalled instructions.

"Thank you," Harry whispered to Daphne as they heated the water in the cauldron.

"You would have done the same for me," Daphne waved off. "I can't stand bullies. I didn't expect anything else from Draco and his cronies, but from a professor? Unbelievable." She shook her head. Her blond strands came dangerously close to the flames as she did so.

"Watch it," Harry said, reaching to tuck her hair behind her shoulder.

Daphne beamed at him. "See! That's what I'm talking about! We have to stand up for each other, Harry. Together we're stronger. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, gladly," said Harry. "We –"

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape barked from the front, "Because of you, Potter. For disrupting class. And one point from Slytherin for encouraging him, Greengrass."

Now Ron leaned towards them as well. "Hey, Daphne," he whispered. "You are my favourite Slytherin from now on."

"And another five points from Gryffindor," echoed from the front. "Now shut up."

The three friends had to pull themselves together to keep from laughing.

Standing up for each other. That's what they had been doing since that first Potions lesson. Not only had Daphne warned them both shortly afterwards about Malfoy's plans to betray them in their nightly duel after their first flying lesson, no, on Halloween she had also given them both a piece of mind because their behaviour had driven their classmate Hermione crying into the toilet. Daphne had comforted her and forced them both to apologize. And soon the three friends had become four, and together they were indeed stronger than apart. Without his friends, he would never have survived the adventures of the last few years, Harry was sure of that...

"Harry!" Hermione's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He raised his head, looking into her face. Obviously, she had already called his name several times. Harry realized they were already halfway to the Slytherin common room.

"Yes?"

"The story," Hermione said, pointing to the parchment in his hands. "It's best if you continue reading so we have an idea of what we're up against."

And so Harry began reading the story of his heart again, his voice echoing unnaturally loud in the empty corridor:

Where should the boy, who had firmly resolved to become the hero of his story, and his two friends begin their search? As if the Moirai themselves were guiding their steps, the three of them finally went to a nearby forest, and that was not a bad idea, for the girl had always felt closer to the animals of the magical land than to the humans. Perhaps she had only lost her way in one of the particularly gloomy groves, the boy hoped, or she was indulging in sweet dreams under a treetop, her chest rising and falling slightly, her hair fluttering in the gentle wind, just as he had often found her, while warm rays of sunlight caressed her skin...

Then, however, an ice-cold wind blew against the three friends, and snow fell on them from the treetops. Secretly, the boy knew that his hopes were only dreams of the past and that the present was so much more ghastly, but he was not yet ready to give up his dream.

The next moment the dream turned into a nightmare. After walking around an old oak tree, the friends suddenly saw a troll. It was a troll of indescribable ugliness, with long, greasy hair and a crooked hooked nose. And the troll had seen them too. Raising his club, he started running at them to crush them to meat puree.

"I wonder how much of your fairy tale has come true," said Hermione. "After all, we're not in a forest. But we should be careful."

"Too late."

They had turned a corner and Ron pointed to a troll with a heavy club in the middle of the corridor. And indeed, the troll had long, greasy hair, a crooked hooked nose, and was of an indescribable ugliness. And to match its terrible appearance, the troll muttered in a voice as croaking as rusted chains – it hadn't noticed them yet.

"Fools. Idiots. All of them. And you, Potter, ten points from Gryffindor. For daring to breathe my air. Hundred points. Thousand points. TEN THOUSAND POINTS!"

As if stung by an Acromantula, they leapt back behind the corner.

"Quick, Harry," Hermione whispered. "How did the hero defeat the troll?"

" Yeah, um..." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "He jumps on his back and pokes his wand into its nostril. Meanwhile, his friends levitate the troll's club and drop it on its head..."

Ron and Hermione looked at him in disbelief. "That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard," said Ron. "We're certainly not doing that."

"Do you have a better plan, you genius storyteller?" Harry replied, slightly sour, but Ron's following words surprised him.

"What would Daphne say if she were here with us?"

Harry heaved a sigh. He could almost hear her voice in his head, so deeply had her words burned into his memory. "She would say we should work together. Because together we're stronger than apart."

And alone he had put her in this misery, Harry added in his mind. What had he thought he would get out of it, anyway? As if Daphne would have abruptly changed her mind because of it … well, not at all now.

"Exactly!" said Hermione. "And three spells are exponentially more powerful than just one. Three stunners might be enough to knock out the troll."

"Most definitely, actually," Ron seized on her idea. "Remember the first generation of the Blast-Ended Skrewts?" A shiver ran down the three friends' spines. "We practiced it more than enough then, didn't we?"

"Except Daphne didn't approve of it at all back then…" muttered Harry.

"That's not the point. It can work. And that Daphne's as crazy as Hagrid, well, we've known that for a long time, too. She's going to be his successor eventually anyway."

"Instead of absent people's career plans, can we please get back to the task at hand?" said Hermione. "I'd hate to be crushed into meat puree."

Harry pulled out his wand. "Right. On three. One. Two. Three!"

The three friends jumped around the corner and fired several bolts of red lightning at the troll, which went down with a loud bang.

"Easy-peasy," laughed Ron, but Harry failed to join in. He knew that the real dangers were yet to come.