A/N: Okay, so this is a reply to a guest (John B Good), I have no other way to respond, so here it is... I really appreciate the feedback, I'd have loved to have been able to message back and forth - criticism is always welcome. This chapter is part two to the last, it will be them exploring the things they found, which was always my intention. As I am writing this, I do believe that I'll need another chapter on top of this to fully complete it.
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July 12th 1998; 12:30 PM
Godric's Hollow
Harry and Daphne walked up the path to The Potter Cottage. Their hands intertwined together, the warm sun beating down on their necks, allowing them to have finally removed their coats.
Arriving on the doorstep, Harry waved his hand over the lock and entered, Daphne in tow.
"Dad!? I'm home - I've brought Daphne," Harry called out as they stepped into the hallway.
Instead of a reply, James Potter instantly appeared at the open living room door, a bright smile on his face, quickly closing the distance and bringing both of them into a warm hug. "Ah, you two, I've missed you both! I was just thinking about grabbing some lunch, fancy some?"
"Sounds great!"
"That would be lovely, Mr Potter."
"None of that, Daphne. It's James for you."
"Sorry."
James waved off the comment, walking back into the living room, the two teens following suit.
"So! How was it?" James asked, sitting down on the armchair on the left-hand side of the room.
"Fucking brilliant-"
"Language," James chided, shaking his head.
"Sorry - it's beautiful up there - we've got lots to go through as well," Harry said, flopping down onto the double sofa with Daphne.
"We're going to take Dumbledore's pensive for a bit."
James smirked, "As long as you have his permission."
"Of course, Dad."
James eyed Harry for a moment, "Just making sure, you didn't have a great track record, Harry."
Harry held his hands up, "I'll not put a foot wrong, and if I do: Daphne will keep me in line."
James raised an unimpressed eyebrow, turning to Daphne, "If he gets too annoying, just talk to me - I'll set him straight."
Daphne grinned, her eyes alight with mischief, "Don't worry, James, I'll be sure to keep him in line..."
James grinned, "That's the spirit! Now, I'm going down to the cafe; what do you want?"
"Can I have a ham and cheese panini with a latte, please?" Daphne asked.
"Sure - Harry?"
"The usual pastie and tea, please."
"Gotcha, I'll be back in a few," James said as he got up, summoning his wallet and keys from the coffee table in front of him.
Hearing the door click shut, "Do you want to get our stuff set up in my room? He'll be twenty minutes," Harry asked, standing and grabbing their bag and throwing it over his shoulder.
Daphne stood with him, "Trying to get me into your room, are we?" Daphne asked, her sultry tone sending shivers down Harry's spine.
"I don't need to try..." Harry stepped toward her, taking Daphne into his arms, closing the gap between them, pressing his lips on hers.
Breaking apart their firey embrace, their bodies still firmly planted against the other, Harry went to speak but was cut off.
"James?" A voice called out as the front door opened.
Putting some distance between him and Daphne, Harry spoke, "He went out to the cafe; you just missed him."
"Harry?"
"And Daphne!"
Sirius Black walked into the doorway, a large grin plastered on his face, "You're back! Still going for that Yin and Yang look, are we?" Sirius said, gesturing to their robes, "When'd you get in?"
"five, ten minutes ago?"
"Good timing, you're NEWT results should be any day now," Sirius said, slumping onto the large middle sofa.
"Where's Remus?" Harry asked. Taking his seat, again.
"Hiding from my niece, where else?" Sirius said mirthfully, "She's been chasing after him even more recently... I almost feel sorry for him, but he needs to pull his foot out of his arse and find a girl."
"Isn't that a bit hypocritical, no?" Daphne asked.
"Hm?"
"You're single, aren't you?"
"Yes..."
"And you're telling us that Remus needs a girl... What about you?"
"I'm married to the Auror life - I don't need a woman holding me back."
Daphne raised an eyebrow, turning toward Harry, "I think he's holding out for your dad, Harry."
Harry smirked, "You know, I've been thinking the same thing..."
"Now, hold on a minute! How have you come up with that?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"I thought it obvious-"
"You're practically glued to his hip-"
"Don't even get me started on the time we camped together," Harry said, shaking his head with a taunting smile.
"The time he got in the same sleeping bag as him?" Daphne asked innocently.
"You told her about that?" Sirius asked, abashed.
"I tell her everything."
Sirius squinted, "I can tell you two will be intolerable this summer... You were bad on Christmas as it were - but this is infinitely worse."
"I like to think this will be a great summer, don't you?" Harry asked with false serenity.
"I'd have to agree," Daphne said mischievously.
"I'm going to have to get James here to sort you out, Harry..."
"That's just an empty threat, nothing more... lest we tell him of your feelings toward him..."
"I don't have feelings for your father! Now, quiet down - you've been back no more than an hour, and you're already causing mayhem."
Sirius grabbed the TV remote, turning on the TV to a show called Sex and the City.
"What show is this, Sirius?"
"A new one - I've found it to be quite enjoyable."
"Is it another romance show?"
"What does it matter if it is?"
"It doesn't - you just have a... thing, for them, don't you?"
"A man can't enjoy a TV show now?"
"Never said such a thing," Harry said, holding his hands in the air, "But, wouldn't watching something like The X-Files be more up your ally? Auror and all that..."
"I watch TV for an escape from work - not to deal with more of the same."
Harry was cut off by his dad entering the room, holding food in his arms. "Okay... Daphne, here you are - Harry and me." James took a seat in his chair, placing his meal on the coffee table. "Afternoon, Sirius - is this a new episode?"
"No, just a repeat - next one is on later, though."
Harry started to tuck into his pastie, listening to the conversation idly. Daphne, on the other hand, had taken to watching the show in comfortable silence, biting into her panini without looking away from the screen.
"So, you two - how were your NEWTs?" James asked as he dug into his sandwich, tuna mayo.
"Nailed them. There wasn't a question I couldn't answer."
"Yet, I will still get better grades than you, Harry."
"Impossible! You can't get better than all Outstandings."
"Like you'd get all Outstandings, I've seen your poor attempts at making a potion."
"My potion making is good enough for an O. I got the talent from my mum."
"Your mother may have been brilliant at Potions, but you definitely didn't inherit the ability."
"We'll see when our results arrive, won't we?"
"That we will - and you'll have to accept defeat."
"You two are like an old married couple already!" Sirius said gleefully, "Are you always like this?"
"Only when he gets too cocky - best to knock him down a few pegs," Daphne said.
"That's the spirit! Can't let him get too big of a head now, can we?" Sirius smirked.
"Of course not. He'd be unbearable otherwise."
"Are you two finished?" Harry asked.
"Aw, are you feeling left out, my love?" Daphne asked, widening her eyes and batting her lashes with exaggerated motions.
Harry snorted, "You are a piece of work sometimes, Daph."
Daphne's nose scrunched in disgust, swatting Harry on the leg. "Prat!"
Harry chuckled, taking another bite out of his pastie.
After finishing their meals, Harry and Daphne parted from the living room and went up to Harry's room. And, contrary to what they told his dad and Sirius, they didn't spend one minute looking at the books from The Sorcerer's library that afternoon.
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July 14th 1998; 10:22 AM
Harry's Room, Potter Cottage
Harry sat staring at the pile of books in the corner of his room. Frustration was an understatement as he watched them from his desk, the parchment splayed across it in an unorderly fashion as he attempted to decipher it alone, Daphne having spent the previous day with her family, wanting to spend some time proper time with them for the first time since Christmas; before she spent the majority of the summer with Harry.
Harry's desk was lined with all sorts of unfinished projects, Arthimacy books that had been fished out from his trunk, his black diary that had seen better days and the vial that held a memory that begged him to be watched.
With his father off at work and Daphne's absence, Harry had a free house, allowing him to start making headway on the language.
The text looked so similar to the Norweigian language at the time that it should've been easy to translate between the two, but it just came out as gibberish as if he tried to match letters together, giving up on that a long time ago; now trying a the different, and incredibly ineffective approach of staring down at the text until he had an epiphany.
Matching languages together was always a struggle for Harry. He could learn languages with relative ease, picking up the language with ease when someone was there to guide him, or there was a set translation, forms that would make it a simple matter of learning, but decoding a language alone was something that completely stumped him.
There was always the option of visiting Dumbledore to ask for some help, but Harry wanted to do it alone, learn as he went. His stubbornness forbidding him to go to anyone other than Daphne for some help.
"Fucks sake..." Harry grumbled under his breath, turning back to his desk and the parchment that held the indecipherable language Harry had begun to hate.
Scouring the whole diary for most of the night, well into the morning, Harry found Twenty-one new runes, matching the ones on the door, along with a full page of a line of Norse Runes followed by a line of New Runes. There was another page, that Harry recognised as the old Norse written in poems, that also held the new language the man had invented.
He had instantly noticed the number of Runes was divisible by three to leave seven, two of the most magically powerful numbers in their world, left Harry sure that there was more than just notes of this Sorcerer's life and held magic that could aid him and Daphne in their ventures.
It was odd that the number seven came up in these texts, however cryptically - the origin of the numbers immense magical properties coming from an English woman back in the 13th century, long after this man's supposed demise.
This gave credence to the idea that his work was long forgotten, further supported by the barman back in Nusfjord, who'd mentioned no such mountain home existed, and yet it did...
The more Harry found, the more of a mystery it was, more questions being asked with no answers given.
How had this Sorcerer been lost to time? Why wasn't he such a prominent figure now? He'd clearly known much of the secrets of magic, much of the intricate way runes ran, capable of adapting them to work without fault...
Was he as lonely as the barman said? Was that the reason? Harry was unsure, picking up the vial with quiet finesse.
The memory looked to have a mind of its own, scrambling around in the vial. It was unique, but such was the memories owner. Harry hoped that it hadn't been tampered with, that it was pure - such a thing wouldn't matter too much, but it could yet again prove to be another unsolvable mystery.
He'd have to wait until they went to Dumbledore's office - perhaps he'd be able to shed some light on the memory.
All he needed was for Daphne to arrive so they could go to Dumbledore's office together.
Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He needed a break and some food. He got up from his desk, casting one last glance at the New Runes and turned for the door.
Ambling down to the kitchen, Harry spent time stretching his aching back; no matter how comfy his chair, sitting at it for hours on end always made him sore.
Standing at the top of the stairs, Harry looked down, then down at his feet, before he pulled out his wand and focused on himself... Wild thoughts ran through his mind... of unaided flight.
The sensible part of him screamed to be listened to - to obey it. But, the 'what if' cried louder, drowning all rational thought out.
Spells raced through his mind; time ceased as he focused on levitation, on how to create momentum from nothing, manipulating the world around him to aid him in this endeavour.
Magic is intent. What did you desire? How much did you want it? Those were the questions when asking to perform actions without a wand or words.
Harry pocketed his wand - it was unneeded. He took the first stride off the top step, bracing himself as he willed his body to stay afloat. He stayed airborne for a moment, both of his feet in the air.
"Yes!" Harry cheered, throwing his hands up, grazing the ceiling.
After another moment, Harry tried to angle himself down the stairs, willing himself to go down them. It worked for a brief second before everything failed, and Harry landed on one of the steps with an awful thud and fell headlong down the rest, landing viciously on his back.
Harry gasped for air as he sat up, unable to breathe from the hefty fall. Getting to his knees, bending over, focusing on his breathing and only his breathing; air finally filled his lungs. He took a deep breath as he slowed his frantic breaths; Harry chuckled beside himself - how much of an idiot was he?
Clambering to his feet, Harry continued to the kitchen with slower and more deliberate motions as he nursed his bruised back.
Entering the kitchen, Harry flicked his wrist - the kettle soaring to the tap, then onto the stove. Waving his hand, the stove burst to life.
Harry took a seat at the table, summoning a mug from the cabinet and grabbing a teabag from the box in front of him.
Taking a meagre sip, Harry sighed, sagging in the chair.
Harry wasn't sure how long he was sitting at the table, using the time to rest and let his body heal from the fall. Glancing at his watch, it'd just turned twelve, and Harry put the cup in the sink.
Trudging back up the stairs, peeking over his shoulder at the top, and walking to his room, Harry grabbed a fresh set of clothes from his wardrobe, getting changed, so he wasn't a complete mess for Daphne.
As he put his top on, Harry hissed when he lifted his arms up but managed to get his shirt on properly and ignored it, going back to his desk - hoping the break would help him have some new insight into the language.
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July 14th 1998; 14:57 PM
Hogsmede
"I just hate Draco - I don't know why my sister even likes him!"
Harry chuckled, his eyes lazily roaming around the buildings of Hogsmede as they walked before shifting his focus to Daphne. "Perhaps there's more to him than all that meets the eye?"
"You're taking his side in this? I thought you hated him!"
Harry held his hands up, "Oh - don't get me wrong, I do. But, I'm just trying to play devil's advocate here."
Daphne raised an eyebrow, "That's a load of bollocks, and you know it."
Harry shrugged, "You can't ever know for certain what he's like unless you give him a chance."
Daphne sighed, rubbing her at her eyes. "I don't want him to hurt Astoria."
"You can't keep her in the dark forever."
"I can protect her from him, though."
"What happens when you can't anymore?"
"That'll never happen."
"Daphne... If Malfoy really cares for Astoria, then you won't need to protect her anymore - he'll do it for you."
Daphne snorted, "That won't happen."
"Why not? Astoria is a smart girl - she wouldn't have chosen someone that can't look after her."
"I can't ever see him doing such a thing."
"You probably couldn't see yourself ending up with me, but you did - how come I'm different from Malfoy?"
"You're just different."
"No, I'm not."
Daphne huffed, her brows furrowing in concentration. "I got to see you when you were vulnerable. It allowed me to see more than the little bravado you kept up when people were watching - I can't do that with Draco..." Daphne frowned, but after a moment, a small smile graced her lips, "It helps that you don't look like a ferret either - you're handsome."
Harry smirked, an image of a platinum blonde ferret running through his mind. "Why can't you try and see a more vulnerable side to him?"
"Well... He knows I'm an animagus, so I can't use the same trick."
"What if I did it?"
Daphne ushered him to continue.
"Well... He doesn't know I'm a snake. I could go with you to yours later - you take Astoria out for a talk, and I go in and spend... say ten minutes with him. How about that?"
"You really think that'll work?"
"Why wouldn't it?"
"How can you be sure he won't curse you?"
Harry waved his hand, "I'll be fine - Malfoy couldn't hurt a fly, let alone me."
"I don't want to take the risk."
"There isn't any - you said it before, I was the most gifted student at Hogwarts. Malfoy has nothing on me."
"I'm glad that statement didn't go to your head," Daphne drawled.
"I am an extremely humble person - kind too."
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Dumbledore better not be out - I can't spend more than ten minutes waiting at that bloody Griffin Statue."
"Why would we wait?"
"We don't know the password."
"It'll be some Muggle Sweet he likes; you just have to guess."
"You're telling me you could guess what Muggle Sweets he likes?"
"Of course! He used to come around our house every Halloween - sometimes, he popped round on Christmas for a bit. He's asked if I wanted a sweet every time he visited."
"I would put good money on you taking him up on that offer every time."
Harry smiled, "What can I say? I'll never say no to sweets."
"Give it another twenty years, and you'll be just like him!"
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"I will not be cooped up in that castle when I'm forty with you; we'll still be exploring."
"Will we now, Miss Greengrass?"
"Yes. I have lots I want to see and do - I'll not have you sitting on that throne in Hogwarts until you're at least seventy."
"Seventy? That's a long time away, isn't it?"
"That's the point."
"How d'you know I want to be Headmaster, anyway?"
"Oh, come off it! We both know you'll be there one day."
"This is news to me."
"No, it's not. You just don't want to admit I'm right. Dumbledore wouldn't let anyone else take that mantle, and you know it. Even McGonagall wouldn't be allowed it."
"Dumbledore isn't that biased. He would be happy for McGonagall to take up his mantle - I wouldn't be surprised if he gave it to you instead of me."
"No, he wouldn't."
"What would you do then?"
"I'll be Deputy Headmistress."
"You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?" Harry asked, amused.
"Once or twice..."
"Perhaps I'll surprise you; I'll go for Minister."
Daphne kept her face straight for all of two seconds, then burst into laughter, "I've been inside that mind of yours, Harry, I know you care not for politics, but something else," Continuing to giggle erratically.
Harry grinned, "Wand making is an interesting profession - Perhaps we could take that over instead?"
"Ollivander would never! We'll go to his shop during the school rush - I bet you he'll try and shoo you out as soon as he can."
"Deal - I'm sure he's buttered up to the idea of teaching me wandlore by now."
"I doubt that, he hates you."
"I wouldn't go that far - hate is a strong word."
"That's why it's the right one."
"He doesn't dislike me as much as you dislike Malfoy."
"No, he dislikes you way more," Daphne laughed.
Harry rolled his eyes, and they continued toward the gates of Hogwarts, comfortably chatting about nothing as they went.
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July 14th 1998; 15:32 PM
Headmasters Office
Harry held his hand up to knock against the oak door.
"Come in," Dumbledore's voice echoed through before Harry got the first tap in.
"I need to know how he does that," Daphne murmured.
"Yeah, It'll come in handy when we're at yours."
Daphne rolled her eyes, opening the door without gracing Harry with a response.
"Good afternoon, you two. I see you've decided to keep with the black/white look?" Dumbledore gestured to their clothes, "I see you've added a touch of gold."
"I don't like wearing black," Daphne said.
"White is too bright for me."
Dumbledore chuckled, a bubbly smile on his lips, "I trust you found what you were looking for?"
"That's why we're here actually-"
"There was a memory left there," Daphne finished.
"Fascinating - would you allow me to join you in watching it?"
"Haven't you seen it before?" Harry asked.
"Sadly, I never managed to enter the ruins."
"Never?"
"We thought you knew what was in it," Daphne said.
"Alas, no. I knew how to open it. But, I didn't have a partner to help me."
"I wouldn't really call them ruins - it was in better shape than some of Hogwarts," Daphne said.
"Yeah, it was in good nick when we opened it up."
"Hmm, that is something..."
"So no one else has been in there? We were the first?"
"It's entirely possible that someone has visited it in the past... But, I suppose that if you two didn't notice anything of value missing - I highly doubt they would have left this memory there. There is no reason to believe that you aren't."
Harry and Daphne looked at each other, smiling.
"So! Where is this memory? I'm excited to see it!"
Harry dug into one of his pockets, plucking the vial out and holding it for them all to see.
"I've noticed that it moves, unlike other's I've seen," Harry said, handing Dumbledore the vial.
"Indeed. This is far more violent than other's I have seen - ones out of my own head, and I'd guess both of yours..." Dumbledore said, spending a moment studying the vial, looking over his half-moon spectacles with supreme intrigue. "Well! I think it's time to watch it!"
Dumbledore stood from his seat, smiling brightly. He moseyed over to a black cabinet on the left-hand side of the entrance. The cabinet opened as they approached it, revealing a stone basin, the pensive. Dumbledore waved his hand, and it floated out to them - they stood around it, as one would around a piece of art in a museum.
Harry and Daphne shared one last feverish glance at one another as Dumbledore uncorked the vial and poured the contents into the pensive.
All three of them stood in awe as the memory seemed to fight against the pensive - dying down as Dumbledore raised his hand over the basin.
"Who would like to enter first?" Dumbledore asked, looking between the two eagerly.
"Me!" Daphne said before Harry opened his mouth.
Dumbledore chuckled, "Very well, after you, my dear."
Daphne bent over and submerged her face into the liquid, leaving Harry and Dumbledore to spare one last glance at each other, Dumbledore prompting him to go in next.
Harry mimicked Daphne's actions, the circular room vanishing, a bedroom coming into focus - the very same one that they had left a few days earlier, looking the exact same as it had.
Harry stepped over to Daphne, his eyes matching where hers were focused.
A man was sitting, facing them - he was not young, but not old. He had a beard covering the majority of his facial features, that looked to have been greying for a few years, riding down his torso. His hair was wild and frayed, dirty and unclean - as if the man hadn't touched it for years.
His eyes were dull, large black bags plastered under them. He looked tired but unwanting of sleep - sitting with his back to the desk, his diary lay open and forgotten behind him.
Harry didn't notice Dumbledore come to stand on his left - more focused on the man, who was now on his feet. He trudged through them, off to the colossal door behind them - he was slow, steps unprecise. His head hanging lower than Harry thought possible- eyes fixed on the floor, unneeding to look where he was going.
They followed the man through the door and into the main entrance, the chandelier unlit, not allowing for much vision. The man clicked his fingers, and the chandelier burst alight. He lumbered over to the door, the one where the memory had been left, and he touched the middle of it, the door opening without a sound. The man entered, and Harry and Daphne shared a look toward each other before following - Dumbledore a step behind, still admiring the room around them.
Once entering, Harry noticed that the pedestal held something different on it, what he guessed was an urn. It was intricately carved with what Harry assumed were the same runes he'd used in his writings.
The man let out a large sigh, standing in the middle of the room. He looked lost, unsure and without hope. His lifeless eyes lingered on one spot, on the urn. The man spoke in an ancient tongue. Dumbledore had taught both Harry and Daphne during the year, believing it could help them with translation. The three of them stood in stunned silence as he talked, unable to do anything else.
"My time in this plane runs short... But, I fear of what I've done in your absence."
"Life without love... Life without purpose... Yet, time moves forward, and I... back. I've grown further and further away from our people - more and more alone." Bitterness laced the man's voice, "I am sorry, my love, for I have failed." Harry felt Daphne's hand wrap within his. "I wished I could speak with you once more, to be capable of conversing between our two worlds, but... but I cannot - for it is not right - against laws of magic - I dare not tread those lines, however much I wish... I've searched through every avenue, every mention of magic throughout the globe; yet, nothing. Nothing will allow me the solace I seek."
The man stepped closer to the urn, reaching out and stroking it delicately.
"I fear I have done too much wrong - I have become blind in this pursuit, yet I care not. For speaking with you is infinitely better than my soul - a sacrifice I am willing to make..." The man stopped caressing the urn and stepped back. "I came across an ancient man whilst traversing Greece - he'd lived ten lifetimes, and yet, he could live ten more - a sinister bloke, able to converse with snakes, but he spoke of his defeat of death..."
The man choked, and he spent some time breathing slowly, holding back tears.
"Forgive me, my love, for I considered his secrets, considered learning all that he could teach... He was intriguing - gave promises to me that were painful to decline, but... But they violated the fundamental laws of magic... flouted all that we'd found. There is much he learnt, much that he could teach. But, I care not for immortality - there is nothing I wish for more than a peaceful slumber when my time comes, but to defeat death, would that not grant me what I seek?"
"You'd be mortified with me if you were here - for what I've done in your absence, what I will continue to do... we once said we'd spend an eternity together, but I stand here and our eternity long since passed - without fear of death, consequences - all I fear is never to be reunited with you."
At this point, Harry and Daphne were gripping each other's hands tightly, Daphne's shoulder pressed against Harry's arm as if they were one.
"If it weren't for our findings... for the awful knowledge of the consequences of suicide, I'd have done it decades ago - whilst my mourning was still fresh, I needn't have spent so long searching, but it is the only thing that keeps my pain away. To hold out a glimmer of hope, it keeps me going forward, keeps me from being stagnant; you wouldn't have wanted that, wanting me to continue our work."
"I love you; there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. But, I too have limits I shan't surpass - as I'd never spend true eternity with you... but I crave to hear your angelic voice, to feel your silky touch, to be happy once again. To have my purpose back."
The man turned wiped at his face, his breathing slow and laboured. He picked the urn up.
"Your memory is a burden I must bear, but I need to set you free - so I shall. Soon, I hope to see you again, but I fear that I have done too much - explored areas that should've been left untouched. I have left our home as my tomb, filled with all of my knowledge, scripted in a new tongue; Along with my own enchantments, keeping it pristine - forever sealed until two can open it together. If one were to meet an unfortunate demise, I only hope my knowledge will help the other stay on track."
The memory faded, and they were back within Dumbledore's office, Harry and Daphne's arms seeking to interlock once more.
Silence permeated throughout the room, none of them willing to speak. Dumbledore's earlier jovial mood, now sombre, all of them having food for thought.
Harry pulled his wand out and flicked it at the centre of the room, a sofa appearing from thin air. He and Daphne took a seat, Dumbledore remaining silent, staring down at the pensive, deep in thought.
After a while of silence, Harry broke it, "The more we find out of this man, the more questions I have."
"Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that," Daphne murmured.
Dumbledore continued to stay silent, so silent that Fawkes began to sing, phoenix song helping soothe the sombre mood.
"I believe it best if I were to think on this for a night... Would you two come back tomorrow?" Dumbledore asked, his gentle smile not reaching his eyes.
Harry and Daphne shared a look, "Of course, we'll bring his diary as well - I haven't had any luck deciphering it; maybe a fresh set of eyes will help."
"Thank you, may I keep the memory - I'd like to have another look."
"Sure, it'll be of no use in a vial at my place."
Dumbledore bowed his head, ambling over to his desk and grabbing a sherbert lemon from a small bowl. "Would you like one?"
"Yes please," Harry said, walking over to Dumbledore and taking one from the bowl.
"Same time tomorrow then?"
Harry nodded, looking over at Daphne, who agreed, standing up from the sofa that disappeared once it was empty.
"Take care, Albus," Harry paused for a moment. "Don't stay up all night - Fawkes, make sure he gets some sleep."
The Phoenix, singing, came over, landing on Dumbledores shoulder, nuzzling the ancient warlock affectionately.
Dumbledore smiled and gently caressed Fawkes' crown.
"Now, Daphne, it's time for me to prove Malfoy isn't as bad as you think," Harry said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"Draco is a prat, and you're just saying it to annoy me."
"You're notoriously bad at judging a book by its cover - sometimes, you should read the first chapter."
"Where did you hear that one from?"
"Thought of it myself, I'd have you know."
"I highly doubt that. I'll see you tomorrow, Albus."
"Goodbye, you two."
Saying their goodbyes, Harry and Daphne went to leave, Daphne walking through the door. Harry hung back for a second. "Would you like to come over for dinner later - I'll tell my dad your coming so he can make an extra portion if you'd like?"
Dumbledore smiled, "I'd love that, Harry, thank you."
Harry nodded, "dinners served at eight." and followed Daphne out, ready to go to her place.
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July 14th 1998; 17:32 PM
Greengrass estate
"This better work, Harry," Daphne said as they walked toward Astoria's room.
"It'll work - I'm sure of it," Harry said, turning into his snake without waiting for her response.
Coming up to Astoria's room, Daphne took a deep breath, knocking on the door. "Astoria, can I speak with you for a moment?"
"Just a minute!" Came Astoria's voice through the door, slightly flustered.
Harry and Daphne shared a look, and Astoria came out a moment later, her cheeks flushed pink.
"What do you want?"
"Can you help me with something in my room? It'll take no more than ten minutes," Daphne asked, and Harry slipped into Astoria's room.
"Fine," Astoria said, disgruntled, shutting her door.
Harry heard the two leave down the hall and took a moment to look around the room.
It was about double the size of his room back home, similar to Daphne's, and was furnished with expensive furniture - a large four-poster bed in the centre and a mahogany desk to the left of it - with a matching wardrobe on its right.
On the bed was one Draco Malfoy, sat topless. Flustered and frustrated. He was fiddling with his hands, seemingly not knowing what to do with himself.
Harry slithered over to the bed, climbing up one of the posters with some difficulty, using magic to aid his climb, and perched himself on the bed. He nudged at Malfoy's leg to grab his attention, and Malfoy lurched backwards, pressing himself against the headboard.
"Get back!" Malfoy yelled, reaching for his wand.
Harry remained calm, expecting such a response, though he'd never tell Daphne, and just tilted his head, otherwise remaining deathly still.
Malfoy seemed to relax somewhat. But had summoned his wand and was pointing it at Harry.
Harry kept still, thinking of the best approach he could manage. Realising this had been an idiotic idea, Harry shifted back to his typical state. Sitting in front of Malfoy with an amused expression.
"Potter? What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" Draco asked though it was more of a demand, continuing to hold his wand up at Harry.
"I came here with Daphne - she doesn't like you very much - did you know that?"
"I am aware, Potter. I was asking why you came into this room."
"She wanted me to speak with you - to know your true intentions - will you please stop pointing that thing at me. I'd have you on your arse within a second - thank you - anyway, I just came in for a chat."
"I don't believe you."
"Why not? If you're as serious about Astoria as I am about Daphne, we'll be brothers soon enough."
"Of course, I'm serious about Astoria. I wouldn't be here otherwise - I plan to marry her someday."
"See! There's the spirit." Harry clapped, "Would you put a top on? I think this'll be less awkward if you do."
Malfoy didn't need to be asked twice, grabbing his shirt from the side of the bed and quickly slipping it on.
"So, Potter... What did you want to know?"
"Oh, I couldn't care less about knowing anything about you, but Daphne wants to be sure Astoria is making the right choice - I tried to convince her that Astoria is a smart girl and can make her own decisions, but Daphne wouldn't listen."
"Okay..."
"You don't need to tell me anything - I can see clear as day you don't have any ill will toward Astoria, I've seen how you look at her - but, I think you'd do well to show Daphne that."
"Like tell her I'm here for the long run?"
"No, don't do that. Show her, you know, with your actions. Spend time making little gestures toward Astoria - while Daphne is there, be kind to her - things like that."
"I am kind to her."
"I would like to think so, but Daphne is blinded by your actions in Hogwarts - just make some effort to show that in front of Daphne, instead of keeping it in this room - for only Astoria to see."
"You speak of this like you've done it before, Potter."
"Oh, I have. I did all of this to help win over Daphne - gave her little gifts I enchanted, like her diary - or at Christmas in Sixth, I made and enchanted a backpack to have a library in it."
"You did that? I thought she'd bought it from somewhere."
"Yeah, I had to make the bag to match her diary - bloody pain, that was."
"I don't think I can do all that; you were always the best at Charms." Looking to have visibly pained Malfoy to say that.
Harry sighed, "Do you have any idea what Astoria likes?"
"I think she'll be lonely at Hogwarts without Daphne there - even though they didn't spend too much time together, I think she'll miss having her there; why?"
"Hmm... I think I've got a perfect idea - I'll need to talk to my dad about it. But, it should work."
"What?"
"Two-way mirrors."
"What are they?"
"You have a mirror, and so does the other person - they keep it on their person, and if you say their name into the mirror, you can talk to them from anywhere."
"You have these?"
"My dad and Sirius do - they used them back in their Hogwarts days."
"Why are you being kind, Potter?"
Harry blinked at Malfoy, not really knowing why either, "I guess I can see that you love Astoria - even if Daphne doesn't see it. And, I think you should have your chance together."
Harry and Malfoy heard steps from outside, "I'll send you an owl about the details," Harry said, turning back into his snake form and going over to the door, Astoria entering a moment later, and Harry slipped out as Astoria asked why Malfoy had a shirt on.
ooo000ooo000ooo
A/N: So what did you guys think? I think this chapter turned out well - I enjoyed writing it a lot! The next chapter will be the final one in this little series, then I'll move on to something else.
If you have any suggestions or something you'd like to see, just write it in a review.
Anyway! I hope you enjoyed it!
-Salt.