A/N: This is just for my (and hopefully your) amusement. I own nothing and I'm not seeking any profit from publishing this work.

Chapter 18 - The Avengers

As Daphne prepared for the day she marvelled at how alert she was after getting so little sleep. At best she had slept four hours while sitting awkwardly with Harry's head in her lap. She had arrived back in her room at three thirty in the morning and spent the next four hours staring into the darkness, thinking about what was going to happen Wednesday night. She thanked the gods today was a Saturday as having to concentrate on her classes today would be a near impossibility.

Immediately after breakfast she would be sending her parents a letter scheduling a meeting for the next day. She had briefly thought about asking Harry to call Winky for faster delivery but quickly dismissed it. She needed to avoid doing anything out of the ordinary. Dobby had been right...any unnecessary risks needed to be avoided. She tried not to dwell on the fact she was taking advice from an elf who had thought the best way to save Harry was to repeatedly send a bludger at him.

Her next meeting with Professor Flitwick was scheduled for Tuesday. She considered asking about rescheduling it to an earlier date but quickly changed her mind again. The questions she needed to ask were about Harry's role and would most likely raise suspicion...rescheduling on such short notice for a project a year away would only increase the questioning.

As she entered the Great Hall with Tracey that morning she immediately spotted Harry at the Gryffindor table and a decision was made. "I'm going to sit with Harry," she informed her friend.

Before she could move Tracey grabbed her arm. "You're going to sit at his table? Really?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. What Harry was facing next Wednesday had done a remarkable job of putting things in perspective. Worrying about what Harry's or her own housemates thought was one of those things. And she really wanted to sit with him.

"Well let's go then!" Tracey enthused. At Daphne's raised eyebrow Tracey continued. "I can't let you face the lions alone can I?"

Tracey was brilliant.

As she began walking she realized Harry had spotted her. She watched as he spoke to Hermione who smiled and quickly slid down the table, creating spots for the two of them.

"Good morning," she said simply as she took a seat and reached for Harry's hand. She looked to see familiar faces surrounding her and felt immediately at ease. As much as she knew how stupid it was she was still slightly nervous at sitting with the 'enemy.' "Everyone, this is my friend Tracey," she continued.

They sat companionably for several minutes without incident as Tracey quickly integrated herself into Daphne's new circle of friends. She had noticed several glares from her own housemates and Snape's standard sneer seemed a bit more pronounced but none of the nearby Gryffindors seemed bothered. Her performance at the Quidditch match and the acceptance by Harry's friends most likely kept everyone in check. Well almost everyone.

McLaggen.

She watched as he approached the table and spotted her, immediately becoming enraged. His pace quickened as he walked determinedly toward them, standing directly across from her and Harry.

"The Slytherin table is across the way. You don't belong here." he said with every bit of menace he could muster. It wasn't much. She was set to respond when another voice spoke up.

"She and her friend make for much better company than you Cormac. Bugger off," Neville Longbottom said confidently, glaring at McLaggen. She watched as McLaggen realized he was badly outnumbered and stomped to the other end of the table.

"Thank you, Neville" she said sincerely. It dawned on her that she had used his first name despite never speaking to him before.

"It's not a problem," he said, smiling shyly. "Any friends of Harry are welcome here. I've been meaning to talk to you anyway...I really appreciated the pictures and letter from your parents."

"How do you know Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass?" Tracey brightly interjected.

Neville was taken off guard but quickly recovered. "Umm...they were friends of my parents."

As her old friend and new friends began talking again she leaned toward Harry. "Fancy a walk to the Owlery after breakfast? I'm going to see if we can talk to my parents tomorrow."

"Absolutely, you can even use Hedwig," he whispered back. "I think we should meet with your parents in the castle though. I don't want to annoy Dumbledore before Wednesday. Dobby put the fear of god in me last night."

The next day her parents arrived precisely at noon and Dumbledore personally escorted the group of four to a grand room Daphne had never seen before. It was clearly meant for meetings as it had a large table as well as several annoying decorations.

"We will need another room, Headmaster. One without portraits," Harry stated before she could speak.

She smiled to herself at the offended gasps of the portrait subjects.

"I assure you Harry this room is perfectly safe," Dumbledore said in his most grandfatherly tone.

"I understand how the portraits work here sir and I'd prefer a different room," Harry repeated calmly. He'd been paying attention. Daphne was so proud.

"Very well," Dumbledore finally stated, sounding supremely disappointed in Harry.

They were quickly escorted into a much smaller room. As soon as the Headmaster bid them farewell her parents burst into laughter, surprising her and Harry.

"You will have to forgive us," her father said between his chuckles, "it is a rare pleasure to see Albus taken down a peg or two. It does appear that you have been listening to Daphne."

"Always, si-...Cyrus. If she ever catches me not paying attention she gives me this...look. I do my best to avoid it all costs."

"Harry!" she protested. "I do not have a look."

"As I've suffered through it for many years I can assure you that you do indeed have a look, dear," her mother replied condescendingly. "Ah and there it is now."

"So... security questions?" Daphne grit out, desperately wanting to change the topic. "What did you tell Harry when you said goodbye to him after our last visit?"

"I think that may be too personal for Harry, dear-"

"It's all right," Harry interrupted kindly. "Go ahead."

"I told him I wish I had known his parents better and that I wished he had come into our lives sooner," she said warmly, smiling at Harry.

"How did I describe the Weasley twins to you?" Harry quickly asked her father.

"The smartest idiots you've ever met," her father answered, "and having met them I can now say that is a very apt description."

"They finally agreed to a meeting?" Harry asked enthusiastically. "How did you convince them?"

Her father suddenly looked embarrassed. "I transfigured all of the items they had sent into weasels and had one of our house elves deliver them to their shop in a box with my regards. The elf came back with a lunch invitation for the next day. I am happy to say our first order from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was delivered on Friday. Which reminds me…" He paused to pull a large folder out of his bag, handing it to Harry.

"They informed me that you provided their initial investment and hold a twenty percent stake in the business. They asked me to give you this. It contains the quarterly financial statements for the last two years as well as their five year business plan. They are charmed so only you or those you approve will be able to see the results."

"Umm...thanks. To be honest I just gave them the money. I wasn't expecting anything from it," Harry replied, staring at the voluminous folder of information in muted horror.

"They informed me of that as well. They purposely had not informed you as of yet because they knew you at best would not be interested and at worst would refuse."

Daphne felt a strange sort of validation at the news that she wasn't the only person dumb enough to negotiate worse terms based simply on Harry's nobility.

"I was just happy when they said I could have anything in the store for free," he answered dumbly.

Such an idiot. If...no...when...they got through this nonsense on Wednesday she was going to force him to review the Weasley financials with her. If she could sit through that Quidditch nonsense he could stand a few hours of actual learning. She would even bring sweets and hot chocolate….that was the best part of Quidditch after all.

"Enough dreadful business talk," her mother kindly interrupted, "I believe we have more pressing things to discuss."

"Just one more thing, dear," he replied, handing another much slimmer folder to Harry. "These are the current revenue projections for our basilisk. We've decided to spread out introducing the goods to the market over the next several years to maintain current pricing levels. The last page outlines the total proceeds deposited to Gringotts so far on your behalf as well as a forecast of total expected revenues."

Harry quickly flipped to the last page. "Whoah," was the extent of his analysis on the project's results.

"Indeed," her father replied bemusedly. "Feel free to steer any other mythical beasts you happen to slay my way in the future Harry."

"As I was saying," her mother interrupted once again, "we should move on to more pressing matters. I assume you've made significant progress and need to bring us up to speed?"

Harry quickly cast Muffliato before reaching into his own bag for the diadem. Daphne watched as he unwrapped the object and placed it in front of her parents, their uneasy expressions growing the longer they stared at the cursed relic.

"We found a horcrux and have done some experimenting." He paused and looked her way admiringly. "Daphne says we're ready. We're ready and it's happening on Wednesday the 7th."

"Tell us everything. Leave nothing out," her father commanded.

Best to get it out of the way.

"Everything has changed. It's not about Avada Kedavra at this point...I'm not sure I could manage casting that at Harry anyway...not now. It really is about love. Using it to save Harry."

"And you think you've come up with something that will work. That it will be enough?" her mother asked gently.

Daphne suddenly felt very exposed and looked down, focusing on their enjoined hands. "More than enough."

It took them five hours but they had covered all the progress that had been made and outlined plans for Wednesday. As horrible as it was to think about the worst case scenarios it needed to be done...they needed to have a strategy if everything went sideways. Daphne had remained silent, limiting her involvement to brief comments and nods of understanding when asked a question.

It had been decided that her parents would remove Astoria from Hogwarts for the day using the excuse that she needed to see a specialist related to her condition. It had been done several times in the past and would not raise any suspicions. It would take pulling a few strings on such short notice but Cyrus would schedule an actual appointment, making her absence from school completely legitimate. Once safely away from Hogwarts her parents would tell Astoria what was happening.

Her parents and Astoria would remain at their home until they received word from Dobby. Only after it was certain that Daphne was not suspected in helping Harry would Astoria return to Hogwarts.

As she watched her father and Harry explaining what was to happen with Dobby she realized they did make a great team. Not just her and Harry...but her parents...and Dobby. Even Astoria had helped without knowing it multiple times along the way. She smiled to herself imagining how angry Astoria was going to be with her for being kept in the dark for so long.

She saw the stricken look on Dobby's face as he continued to nod his understanding. They were talking about the worst case scenarios now. 'Worrying won't help, keep thinking,' she practically shouted to herself.

Finally Dobby popped away and their meeting began to wind down. She was all set for tearful goodbyes when she saw Harry pulling out multiple glass vials as well as several envelopes . "What we discussed sir," he said simply as he handed everything to his father.

"What did you discuss Harry?" she asked nervously.

"You've signed them with the special quill?" her father asked Harry, ignoring her question.

"Yes sir," Harry answered, casting a sideways glance at her.

"Stop ignoring me and tell me what is going on," she commanded, her nervousness now replaced with frustration

"Harry thought it would be best to make further arrangements if he didn't survive," her mother stated softly. "He's provided pensieve memories of some of your meetings as well as a letter exonerating you in case you are suspected of wrongdoing. They would never be used unless as a last resort and only if you agree, dear."

"That explains the vials and one of the parchments. What are the others?" she continued.

"My will as well as letters to a few people...goodbye letters," Harry replied. He looked so tired but so strong.

Everything inside her being wanted to scream that those things weren't necessary but she furiously pushed back at the urge. Doing that wouldn't help Harry. She needed to help Harry. So she simply wiped away the moisture forming around her eyes and nodded.

He smiled, turning back to her father. "I didn't know anything about the Weasley investment so I didn't mention it in the will. I'd like it to go to Ron...can we still do that?"

"I can provide a pensieve memory of this to the Weasley brothers as proof. Since you are gifting it to one of their own relatives there shouldn't be a problem," he said kindly.

"It is a remarkable thing to be concerned with such matters with all that's about to happen Harry. Truly remarkable…" His voice trailed off, most likely remembering his old friend.

Harry didn't stare at his shoes. He didn't look uncomfortable or embarrassed. Instead he looked her father straight in the eyes. "Thank you, Cyrus."

Faster than she wanted it to Tuesday evening arrived and she was set for her final meeting with Flitwick. There was one last thing to be decided and she hoped she could manage the desperately needed advice from her Charms professor without ruining all of their plans.

Daphne thought she had noticed Flitwick raise his eyebrows in suspicion at a few of her questions over the past several weeks but she had dismissed it as her own paranoia. In the end it didn't matter...her discussions with the Professor had been revelatory and crucial to the progress she had made so far. The questions she still needed to ask were by far the riskiest she had tried but it needed to be done. Harry had taken a calculated risk on Daphne and she was going to take a calculated risk on Flitwick. She hoped she was right.

After fifteen minutes of innocuous discussion Daphne started testing the waters of her 'project' questions.

"I had a question about intent, Professor," Daphne began nonchalantly, "specifically the intent Harry's magic could have had on the success of the protection under different scenarios."

Daphne continued, she could tell she had her professor intrigued. "When his parents were murdered Harry was too young at the time to have a concept of life or death. He would have been confused and scared but he wouldn't know the full impact of what was happening at the time. But what if he were older, say ten? Knowing your father was most likely dead and your mother was about to die I would think he would be scared but also hopeless...maybe not even wanting to live knowing his parents were going to be dead."

Flitwick steepled his fingers as he considered the question. "A very interesting hypothesis. If Harry was truly hopeless...lost the will to live so to speak... and did not see a reason to continue living without his parents than he could have hindered his parent's protection. That hopelessness, that unwillingness to fight would most definitely have an impact I believe."

Daphne's heart sank as Flitwick confirmed her own thoughts based on what she had learned from the experiments channeling Harry's magic. Time for the even riskier question...she dreaded the answer. She needed as much input as possible but desperately hoped she was wrong.

"Starting with the same scenario what if Harry had suffered and nearly died multiple times at that point and just assumed he would die soon and was ready? Would he be even more susceptible?"

Flitwick appraised her suspiciously. "That is a very specific scenario Miss Greengrass. Is there a reason beyond just your project that you are asking this?"

Shit. He was back to using her last name again. Not good.

She couldn't admit the truth without breaking the oath. She could lie but Flitwick was too smart and was already suspicious. She would most likely not get a real answer.

She took a drink of her tea to calm her nerves, considering what to say. Should she be as honest as possible or should she lie? She had to know. She took a risk.

"I'm not at liberty to say, professor," she calmly replied, willing him to understand.

"You sound like someone under the terms of an oath, Daphne," he observed.

Daphne silently cheered. "I'm not at liberty to say, professor," she repeated.

Flitwick nodded and continued the questioning. "Are you seeking a way to kill Harry in service of Voldemort?"

"Of course not!" she angrily replied, losing all semblance of the cool facade she had studiously maintained.

He smiled, seemingly reassured by her reaction. Still thinking, still considering. "So you are asking in an effort to help Harry?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," she repeated, calm once again.

"Are you hoping to sacrifice yourself in some way to help Harry?" he asked.

"No sir," she answered immediately, thrilled that he was still asking her questions and not having her expelled.

After several moments of contemplation he inexplicably hopped off his chair. He quickly disappeared into an adjoining room and Daphne's heart sank. Was he summoning the Headmaster? She vaguely heard the sounds of drawers being opened and closed but thought it might be her hopeful imagination. Drawer opening was infinitely preferred to Headmaster summoning.

After several torturous minutes he returned with what looked to be some sort of journal in his hand. He climbed back into his seat and dropped it on the desk. "Page 64," he commanded.

She picked up the journal and turned to the dog eared page as directed. It documented a medical trial that attempted to use magic to kill cancer cells in muggles affected by the disease.

"Wouldn't this have violated the Statute of Secrecy?" she asked as she skimmed through the article.

"The study was limited only to those who were already aware of magic...squibs, non magical spouses or family members of someone with magic," he answered. "I will let you keep this to draw your own conclusions but there were two different details that I found most fascinating."

"First," he continued, "before the study began it was believed that those in the best of health...those who were in better shape physically would show the most signs of success but there seemed to be an even greater factor at play. Those with young families or greater intrinsic motivations to live had a much greater success rate. It was theorized that their will to live 'helped' the magic's focus and direction. Those that were resigned to their fate...were no longer fighting...died at a much quicker rate than if they had received no treatment. The destructive power of the magic involved consumed them, healthy and diseased cells alike."

"How is this not more well known?" Daphne exclaimed.

"That brings me to the second detail I find most intriguing," he stated as he leaned back in contemplation.

"The study was abandoned as it was determined there was no practical application of the magic. You see after the Healers applying the treatment started losing patients their magic began refusing to cooperate. Simply put they lost the ability to cast the spell, their magic unwilling to risk the death of those they were treating despite the patient's willingness to participate in the study. The very thing that inspired witches and wizards to become healers...the desire to preserve life... worked against them.

"Intent trumps all," Daphne observed.

"Exactly," he continued. "The study was abandoned as the successes were short lived as healers lost the ability to cast the spell once they felt the impact….the weight of their potential failure."

"Similar to Expecto Patronum," she interjected.

He nodded his head in agreement, taking another sip of tea. "I've often wondered what would have happened if the healers had been Obliviated or false memories were planted so they weren't aware of their failures. I believe they would have been able to cast the spell...perhaps not as well because of the false memories. Alas we will never know."

They sat silently for several minutes as Daphne read through the article and thought about Flitwick's observations...confirming everything she had been worrying about and more. She already knew this wasn't going to be easy but what she had learned in the last few minutes set her plans in motion. All that was left was to convince Harry.

Daphne had no idea how much actual time had passed before she gathered herself and remembered where she was. She looked up to see Flitwick patiently waiting, a sad smile on his face.

"Thank you sir...I think you've answered all the questions I had," she answered robotically and began gathering her things. She suddenly was very tired.

As she made her way to the door the professor spoke again. "Daphne, if you need to speak to me about your project at any time. Please don't hesitate," he offered sincerely.

She nodded her head and slowly walked out the door more certain of what had to be done but now less certain she could pull it off.