He walked briskly towards the shed in the middle of the wheat field. As he saw it in the distance, all he could think was – what a hovel. It seemed like no place for a wizard to live. Still, he knew that appearances could be deceiving. For all he knew, the small structure could contain a great size within. But in this case, he doubted it.

He reached the door and banged loudly on it. A few moments later, it cracked open a bit and he could see silhouette of a man with a drawn wand on the other side.

"Ja? Was wollen sie hier?!" the man said angrily before he recognized his visitor's face in the dark. "Ah… It's you," he then said with shaky and heavily accented voice.

"You knew I would come tonight," Lord Voldemort told him dismissively and then asked. "Is it ready?"

"Yes… I will make grid be down this Saturday after sun set… one hour," the men replied, still cowering beyond the door frame. "You have money?" he then asked.

Voldemort scowled at his behavior. He could easily crush this worm and torture him into obedience. Under any other circumstances, he would happily do so. His fingers itched and there were several nasty curses on his lips. He reached into his robe but instead of drawing his wand, he took a bag of gold and threw it at the man.

"Here… you better deliver as you promised or you will face the wrath of Lord Voldemort," he told him coldly and watched as the man squirmed nervously even as he counted his coins. A quick passive legillimency to make sure the bastard would do as he promised and he turned around to leave.

As he walked away, he had to fight an urge to burn the shed with fiendfyre and roast the greedy pig alive. But he knew that his presence and actions here needed to remain inconspicuous. If the ICW got inkling of who he was trying to contact, they would surely mount an intervention against him. He was positive he could handle anything they would send but he did not want that kind of distraction right now.

Besides, after his business was done here, there would be nothing standing in his way. Yes, he could feel it. He was so close! Very soon, the Elder wand would be his and then he would be truly unstoppable…


"AAAAAHHH!"

In the dungeons of the Greengrass manor, far away from Voldemort and the wheat field, Harry Potter woke up screaming from his latest nightmare. His head was pounding and he was drenched in sweat. From the horrible pain in his scar, he knew that he has been into Voldemort's mind once more.

It was dark in his cell with only source of light being the small barred window. It was almost morning and the sky behind the bars was slowly turning brighter. It took Harry a while to gather his bearings and remember where he was. He sat up on his hard bed and tried to steady his breathing.

'He really is after the Elder wand…' Harry thought with a mixture of desperation and a small degree of satisfaction at being proven right. His friends did not believe him at all when he said that Voldemort was seeking the wand. Hermione categorically refused to even admit the existence of the Hallows despite the proof being right in front of her in the form of his Cloak of Invisibility. As for Ron, he was more open minded. But he ultimately sided with Hermione on this issue and did not believe him either.

The brief elation at his theory being proven right was quickly replaced with dread as he realized that Voldemort was close to acquiring the ultimate weapon that would allow him to win this war. Worse, very soon Harry himself would be given to the dark lord to be tortured and executed.

In span of few days, the dark lord will achieve total victory and there was nothing Harry Potter could do about it. And it was all his fault!

First he stupidly yelled out Voldemort's name even though he knew it would allow the snatchers to find them. They were all captured and brought to this place. It seemed hopeless until he miraculously managed to get the upper hand over their captor… only to make a mess of it again! Harry pulled on his disheveled hair nervously as the image of Daphne Greengrass and her proud smirking face invaded his thoughts just as it did his dreams earlier this night.

He was still not sure what made him act so careless and stupid around her.

After the guards threw him into this prison cell, he spent almost two days cursing her name until he finally calmed down and realized he could not truly blame Daphne for what happened. After all, he always knew what she was – one only had to hear how she spoke of Hermione and the other muggleborns to realize that. He was stupid enough to give her the opportunity to take him down and he could not really blame the girl for seizing it and staying true to herself in the process.

In the end, he concluded that it did not matter either way. Regardless of how it came to this, he had to face the reality.

And the reality was that he was dead. His fight was over. Daphne would make sure he does not get another chance to escape like he did during his interrogation. Although she did not carry his mark, Daphne stated she would hand him over to Voldemort and Harry did not have any reason not to believe her. She might not be a death eater yet, but she clearly supported their cause.

Harry squinted to look at the door of his cell. He half expected Voldemort to come bursting through it at any moment, even though he just saw him abroad.

"I am so sorry…" he whispered into the dark as he lay down again and thought of his friends. His deepest regret was that he led them both to this fate. He wondered what would happen to them. Would Daphne give them to Voldemort along with himself? Maybe she would not bother doing so. After all, it was him that the dark lord really wanted. But then perhaps staying here was even worse for them, especially for Hermione. He shuddered to think what horrible fate would befall her at Daphne's hands.

'I can't let this happen. I can't allow them to pay for my mistakes!' Harry thought resolutely as he stared into the slowly waning darkness.

He did not see any way out for himself but maybe there was still hope for his friends.

There was one last bargaining chip he had – the fact that Daphne Greengrass seemed curious about what he has been doing this year. It was the sole reason she decided to interrogate him.

With no other option, Harry finally decided that he was going to give her exactly what she wanted. In exchange for sparing his friends, he would tell her everything.

It's not like he had anything left to lose.


Daphne sighed as she went through her mail in the morning. It has been a fortnight since her father died and the customary mourning period that traditions afforded her was over. Which meant that from now on, she would be swimming in marriage proposals from all pureblood and even some half-blood families in the country.

In retrospect, it seemed like such a huge mistake that they did not settle the issue of her marriage while her father was still alive. But in their defense, they both thought that they had much more time. Also, finding the right suitor was an arduous task as Daphne could not afford to marry just anyone.

It had to be a powerful wizard with good family name and appropriate blood status, worthy of joining the Greengrass family. If that wasn't problematic enough, her future husband had to also accept the fact that neither she nor their children will carry his last name. Finding such person among the single male population of Britain or even abroad was not easy.

So yes, in hindsight, she and her father should have been much more active in arranging her marriage. 'Then I would not have to deal with this now,' Daphne thought as she lifted the very first proposal she received this morning. It was from Adrian Selwyn, the head of the Selwyn family and her maternal grandfather. In the letter, he officially proposes a betrothal to her thirteen year old second cousin once he comes of age.

Fortunately, this particular proposal was a fake. Her grandfather knew the situation she would be in and he agreed to this ruse so Daphne would have acceptable excuse for not responding to the other proposals as long as she was considering the one from the Selwyns. It would give Daphne some temporary respite, but she would still need to find solution to this problem sooner rather than later.

'As if I did not have enough on my plate as it is,' she thought as she rubbed her eyes tiredly. It was early in the morning and yet she felt completely exhausted. It probably had something to do with staying up late for the past three days and learning everything she could about the horcruxes.

She suspected that she was not as much tired by the lack of sleep as she was by knowing the horrifying truth. 'Unbelievable that he would really do this...' Daphne thought for a hundredth time.

After hearing the term in Potter's mind last night and learning what it was, it was easy for her to connect the dots – the dark lord made a horcrux as a means of securing his own immortality. Consequently, Potter was going to destroy it so he could truly kill the dark lord. And apparently, he already succeeded in the former.

She glanced at the broken Slytherin locket lying on her table. She strongly suspected that it served as the vessel for the dark lord's soul fragment before Potter destroyed it with the sword of Gryffindor. For a moment, it seemed like the mystery of what Harry Potter and his friends have been doing all this time was solved. But there was an important detail she sensed in Harry's mind. He thought about horcruxes – in plural. Like there was more than one!

After everything she learnt about them, she could hardly believe anyone would be willing to make one, let alone multiple horcruxes. Daphne was no prude about dark magic and she could see the temptation of immortality. The problem with horcruxes was that they were a contradiction. Their advertised goal was to preserve one's life indefinitely but in order to do so, the wizard had to mutilate their soul which was the very essence of their life. So in order to preserve their life, they had to destroy it. It was a paradox.

It was surprisingly difficult to find specific information about horcruxes in their family library. Even the darkest books typically only mentioned the term and a very short description. Fortunately, she managed to find one book which discussed the concept extensively. It also happened to be written by Daphne's favorite dark magic author which made her inclined to believe the words.

The author argues that horcrux does not make one immortal but merely cripples the soul so it cannot leave the physical plane of existence. So in its very essence, the horcrux functions by taking something away from its user rather than empowering them. It also does not grant immortality in traditional sense as the creator of the horcrux is still subject to ravages of time, diseases and fatal accidents. After inevitably losing their body, their soul remains disembodied and in need of external help for their resurrection.

In theory, its creator could prepare a replacement body in advance but in the end, they would still require someone else to perform a ritual to shackle their spirit to it. The author gave the ancient Egyptians as an example as most of their gods and early pharaohs were actually wizards who made horcruxes. These wizards and witches would form a group of worshippers around them who would handle their resurrection in a new body every time their old physical shell failed, be it to violence, bad luck, or time.

'The dark lord has his death eaters…' Daphne thought with a shudder. She wondered if that was his goal in creating the group in the first place – to have someone who would restore his body. If so, then the dark lord ran into the same problem the ancient Egyptians did as it took nearly fourteen years for his followers to even bother resurrecting him. And that was just the first time he needed their help to do it. To really achieve immortality, his followers would have to stay devoted to him and keep repeating the ritual for the rest of eternity.

The reliance on others was the most fundamental flaw and a reason the author considered the horcrux to be the ultimate folly. Almost all who created it eventually fell to the fact that after certain time, nobody would bother resurrecting them anymore. With no way to return to the world of the living and no way of moving on to afterlife, the broken soul would then forever wander the earth as hateful but ultimately powerless spirit. Daphne agreed with the author that such fate sounded much worse than death. She was puzzled by the fact that someone as knowledgeable in magic as the dark lord would embrace something which was proven over and over again to be so flawed.

And that did not even take into account that the objects serving as horcruxes could be destroyed as Potter did. Although Daphne had to admit that from the description, they were exceedingly hard to destroy. The only proven way of destroying a horcrux that the author knew of was hellfire, or fiendfyre, as it was called in recent days.

'How the hell did Potter destroy one with a sword?!' Daphne wondered in frustration. The guards informed her the sword of Gryffindor was imbued with some unknown poison. But what kind of poison could possibly be strong enough to damage a soul?

One last thing the author mentioned on the topic that worried Daphne deeply was the fact that creating horcrux leads to gradual and irreversible loss of humanity. And he did not just mean morality but also basic understanding of interpersonal relationships between human beings. In other words, making a horcrux turned one into a complete sociopath with no regards to anything other than the animalistic instinct for prolonging its own existence; a rabid dog lashing mindlessly at everything around them that could possibly be a threat, be it real or imagined in their madness.

It also led to megalomania. All those wizards in ancient Egypt who were worshipped as Gods eventually fully believed that they really were ones. As Daphne considered that information and how it related to Voldemort, all she could think about was… that it explained a lot.

Many actions made by the dark lord in this war made very little sense to Daphne. A good example was the frequent 'muggle hunting' that his followers did at his command. She did not object to muggle killing as long as it provided some tangible benefit to their cause. But what was the benefit here? How did it help the pureblood cause to kill some random muggles who did not even know why they were being tortured and killed? Muggles were little more than animals in her eyes but one does not torture or kill animals needlessly.

The campaign against muggleborns also seemed aimed at their extermination rather than subjugation and control. Here, it was little tricky as some pureblood families did indeed want all mudbloods exterminated. But vast majority, including hers, did not. Why waste magical blood, dirty though it may be? Mudbloods had their uses and under tight control could provide real benefit to magical society… eventually, even their dirty blood could be purified after few generations and a new pureblood dynasty could arise.

And yet under the dark lord's leadership, muggleborns were almost always killed during the death eaters' raids. They were not even offered a chance to surrender! This went directly against Daphne's beliefs. She wanted mudbloods brought down to their knees where they belonged, not exterminated. At least the dark lord knew better than to try to aim his campaign against the muggleborns who were already serving the pureblood families. 'Not yet…' a small warning voice spoke in Daphne's mind.

It just felt like most of the time, the dark lord's agenda was comprised of wanton destruction without any strategy at all. A while back, she shared her concerns with her father. He told her that the dark lord had information they did not so that his decisions could seem strange to them. Daphne reluctantly accepted that explanation. It was war and it made sense for a leader to have information his subordinates did not and to make plans based on this information.

But now that she knew the dark lord made a horcrux… perhaps more than one. Was he simply insane as his humanity was destroyed along with his soul? Could it be that he really had no plan and his only objective was complete mayhem and destruction of everything?

If that was the case, Daphne knew they were all in a very big trouble. Suddenly, ending this war by handing Potter over to him no longer seemed so satisfying. With Potter dead and his allies crushed, dark lord's next step could be ordering the old families to hand over their muggleborn servants for execution – people who were under their protection. And then it would be an entirely different war.

But what else could she do other than hand Potter over?

It was already clear to her she would have to pretty much erase Potter's mind before she would turn him over. She was certain the dark lord would not tolerate her knowing about his horcruxes. 'Perhaps it will be kindness. The torture will be easier for Harry to handle if he is turned into a vegetable before it happens,' she thought sadly.

Daphne sighed again as she picked up Harry's cloak of invisibility, admiring the beautiful fabric. She once again cursed what she was about to do to him. She had to admit that Harry Potter was nothing like what she expected. The boy-who-lived fascinated her and despite their brief and ultimately disastrous interaction, she still learnt a lot about him.

First of all, he was magically powerful; something Daphne respected and admired in men. Wizards and witches who had potential do to wandless magic would not make for a long list, which made him somewhat unique. He was also brave and devoted to his friends which was an admirable quality even though she did not think his current friends were really worth it. He was resourceful and intelligent given that he managed to obtain and destroy a horcrux. And he was also quite good looking… Daphne liked the way his green eyes looked at her earlier. It was such a horrible shame having to hand him over for torture and execution. But what other choice did she have?!

'If only there was another option…' she bewailed in her mind.

Daphne's thoughts were interrupted by a knocking sound coming from the door. A guard entered her office. She saw it was one the man assigned to guarding Harry's cell and she had a feeling she knew what this was about.

"Is he still bothering you?" she asked him and the guard nodded tiredly. Ever since their meeting abruptly ended three days ago, Harry Potter kept demanding to speak with her. 'I bet he really regrets not killing me when he had a chance,' Daphne thought. She still felt like a fool for letting the situation to escalate so much. Never have she experienced such a humiliation as when Harry Potter held her at wand point using her own wand. He could have done anything to her at that moment…

Luckily, she was able to turn the table back on him when he fell for her fake swooning and rushed to her rescue. Like all men, he then abandoned all reason and caution when there was a beautiful girl in his arms. Her knee in his groin quickly returned the power to her and saw Harry Potter down on the floor and back in chains.

"He wants to talk with you," the guard said.

"Does he?" Daphne said and sneered. She let Harry Potter get the better of her once. He would not get another chance. The guard then added. "He claims he has important information for you, my lady."

Admittedly, that got Daphne's attention.

There were still a lot of questions she wanted to ask Harry Potter but she seriously doubted he would willingly tell her anything. Especially since it would not save him. She would not let him go no matter what he tells her and he probably knew it.

'But… perhaps his friends?' Daphne suddenly wondered. In exchange for Harry telling her everything, she could offer to spare Weasley and that insufferable mudblood. In fact, given his nature and tendency for self-sacrificing, it was likely to be Harry's demand as well.

"Very well. I will come see him in one hour. Make sure he is ready and secure," she reluctantly ordered.

If Harry Potter wanted to plead for their lives, Daphne would let him. But this time, she would do it correctly. What happened during their first meeting won't be allowed to repeat itself. This time, she would show him his place.

She stood up and went to make the arrangements, stopping briefly in front of a mirror. She noticed that she not only felt tired but also looked tired and made a mental note to take a pepper up potion before their meeting.

She then briefly traced the curves of her body in the mirror with her eyes and smiled at what she saw. Like most women in her family, she was blessed with beauty that had boys falling down at her feet, pining for her affection. It was an advantage she was not above using against them to get what she wanted. Even Harry Potter found her attractive and fell into this trap. Daphne suspected it was what allowed her to regain the upper hand on him after the disastrous interrogation few days ago. Knowing her beauty was enough to take down even the boy-who-lived brought her great amount of satisfaction, especially considering the conservative appearance and dress she was wearing at the time. With her official mourning over, she planned to put on something more flattering that would emphasize her beauty to him even more.

'He won't know what hit him,' Daphne thought with a satisfied smirk on her face before adding with some sadness. 'And at least he would get to spend the final hours of his life talking with a beautiful girl.'

She could do that much for him.


The guards barged into his cell and grabbed hold of him with no explanation. Two of them held his arms as they dragged him out of the cell and into a shower room. They ordered him to clean himself and then gave him fresh clothes. The entire time, they ignored all his questions and demands to speak with Daphne and threatened him with punishment when he did not immediately obey. So he did as he was told, especially since he really needed a shower after spending the previous night tossing, turning, and sweating from his nightmares. When he was done, the guards took him back to his cell.

He thought they were just going to leave him there but one of them conjured a chair in the middle and the others forced him to sit on it. Additional spells saw both his feet and hands tied to the chair.

"The lady will see you soon," one of them finally said after he was completely secured. Harry nodded and then stared at the door as he waited for Daphne to arrive. While he waited, the guards stayed in the room with him, suspiciously watching his every move.

Right… as if he was suddenly going to magically burst out of his restraints and escape. Despite Daphne's earlier words, he did not think he could really do wandless magic. Even if he could, the magic suppressing cuff was still attached to his wrist.

In about fifteen minutes, she finally arrived. Harry watched as one of the guards opened the doors for her and she walked into his cell. The girl stopped in front of him and stared down at his tied form with unreadable expression.

Despite his earlier mental promises that he would not get distracted by her this time, Harry's breath hitched when he saw how Daphne looked today. When they first spoke, she had a relatively ordinary black robe that he could see high-ranking witches wearing at the Ministry. Today, she donned a knee-length orange dress which left her arms bare. It had triangular cut-out patterns at her waist and ended with high slit skirt which showed her legs. Her long blonde hair, previously done in a simple bun, flowed down her shoulders like rivers of liquid gold. She looked absolutely gorgeous and Harry had to force himself to stay focused and not just stare at her like an idiot. He remembered very well that getting blinded by her beauty was what brought him into this situation in the first place.

"Thank you for seeing me. I- " he spoke only to be interrupted and yelled at by one of the guards. "Lady did not give you permission to speak!"

Daphne raised her hand, indicating him to stop. "Harry, before we start I have to apologize for what happened," she told him, not breaking eye contact with him as she spoke. "I did not treat you fairly and I am sorry for that."

Harry blinked at her in shock and asked. "W- what? Really?" He could not believe what he was hearing. Could it be that all hope was not lost? Perhaps he did not completely screw up and condemn his friends and himself to death. "What do you mean?" he asked her with tentative optimism but her next words would send him into even deeper pits of despair.

Daphne tossed her hair as she started to explain. "House Potter is old and respectful family. We are even related to each other, you know. And so I made the mistake by treating you like a pureblood… I treated you like my equal," Daphne said and her expression turned cold as she continued. "But you are not my equal, Harry Potter, are you? No, you are a halfblood! Potter family fell low with you."

"Look, I will tell you everything, there is no need for… this!" Harry responded rather angrily like he always did when somebody insulted his family.

Daphne stepped closer to him and the guards watched more attentively. "And I will listen. You just need to understand that this will not work like it did before. You are a halfblood and my prisoner. Which means you have no right to refuse me anything and you will treat me with respect befitting my station," the pureblood witch said as she stared down on him with haughty expression. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

Daphne merely raised an eyebrow. "That would be yes, my lady," she stressed. "From now on, you will address me as lady Greengrass or my lady. I am revoking the privilege of using my first name.

Harry looked at the blonde incredulously. "You can't be serious."

"I am very serious," Daphne said and touched his chin to make him look at her when he would not meet her eyes. "You are a blood traitor making a confession and begging mercy from a pureblood lady of a noble house… by all rights, you should be on your knees. Be grateful that I even allow you to sit in my presence," Daphne finished.

"Yes… my lady," Harry finally reluctantly spoke the words she wanted him to say. The humiliation of that moment was the worst Harry ever felt in his life. Here he was, dishonorably bound and at Daphne's mercy, when he had held her at wand point only three days ago!

Of course, he knew that he only had himself to blame for that. His actions practically invited this situation. He could have forced her to release them or knock her out and do it himself. Instead, as he saw the bleeding gash on her head, all he could think about was that she might be seriously hurt and that he needed to help her… and then she literally fell into his arms and he could no longer think at all. All he could see at that moment was how beautiful she was. All that he could focus on was that there was a beautiful and seemingly vulnerable girl in his arms.

It was so stupid. Intellectually, he knew very well she was dangerous and powerful and that letting his guard down was a very bad idea. But on some level, for the primitive part of his brain, this knowledge made her even more attractive to him. And like an idiot, he allowed this attraction to rule him and he threw all caution into the wind. He paid for it a moment later when Daphne used that distraction to regain her wand and to quickly end his escape attempt.

When he looked up at the girl, Harry expected to see glee on her face. But there was only that simple cute smile that both infuriated and delighted him at the same time. "Excellent. Glad we understand each other," the blonde said. "So… what is it you wanted to tell me?" she then asked.

"Please spare my friends," Harry went straight to the crux of the matter and the reason he wanted to speak with her in the first place. "It's me you-know-who wants, not them. Promise me to spare them and I will tell you everything you want to know… lady Greengrass."

Daphne nodded, as he finished. "I thought you might ask that. Always so noble. You are not even going to ask me to spare your life?" she asked curiously.

"Would there be any point?" he retorted.

"Perhaps not," Daphne admitted. "But you claimed you were almost sorted into Slytherin. A Slytherin would always fight for his life."

Harry did not appreciate that jab but decided to play along. "Alright… would you please spare me, my lady?" he asked her, expecting some sarcastic or snide answer from the girl. What he did not expect was her looking down on him with genuine sadness. "I wish I could, Harry. I really do."

Harry was struck speechless at the honesty in her voice. Was she that good of an actress? "You do?" he asked her carefully.

Daphne leaned over to his ear and Harry tried to ignore that it gave him view of her cleavage. "I know about the horcruxes…" she whispered into his ear and then quickly straightened herself, tossing away her hair which fell into her face.

"What? How?!" he asked as he stared at the Greengrass girl in astonishment.

Daphne glanced at the guards. "Leave us," she ordered briskly. Some of them looked like they would argue but hearing the tone of their mistress, they quickly vacated the room as ordered. Daphne then turned back to him and shrugged. "I heard the term in your mind. I then researched what it is. From that I inferred that the dark lord made one. Am I correct?"

Harry briefly considered whether he should really do it. "My friends…" he eventually said.

"… provided you answer all my questions truthfully, I will spare their lives. You have my word," Daphne said as their eyes met and Harry nodded, hoping he could trust her. He did not have any other choice but to trust her. "Thank you, my lady."

"Now… the horcrux?" she asked.

"He made more then one, my lady" Harry said. She then asked him how much and he said, "Six."

Daphne blinked at that and gradually started to pace around his cell as she asked him more questions. She asked him if he knew what the objects were and he told her everything he knew. "You already destroyed the locket," she said and he responded. "Yes. And the diary. Albus Dumbledore destroyed the ring."

"So that leaves three," Daphne counted. "Do you know where they are?"

Here, Harry had to admit his failure. "We think one of them is his snake. The other two, I do not know."

"I see…" Daphne said and stopped her pacing. She leaned against the wall of the cell and twirled a lock of her hair nervously. "This complicates things," she finally admitted.

"Why?" he asked.

Daphne stared down on him, seemingly considering how much she should say. "You were honest with me, so I will be honest with you Harry," she finally decided. She stopped playing with her hair and continued. "I find the idea of someone mutilating their soul disgusting. But to do it six times is beyond imaginable," she admitted. "Having such person ruling the magical world… I am not sure if I will ever be able to accept that."

Harry did not expect that but he immediately tried to capitalize on it. "Then let us go… I can end this!"

"I can't," Daphne said.

"Why not?"

The blonde witch frowned at his question. "Isn't it obvious? I am pureblood, Harry Potter. Magic is my destiny and my birthright. I am proud of my family and my heritage and I would do anything to protect it from anyone who would see the world my family built for more than two thousand years destroyed. That includes someone like you," she told him passionately.

"I am not trying to destroy anything, I-" he protested but Daphne interrupted him. "Really? Already you are disrespecting me by not using my title again," she told him and at his confused expression, she explained. "I told you to address me as my lady or lady Greengrass!"

Harry was not sure what to tell her. He would admire the passion with which she spoke provided her words were not so hopelessly against him. It seemed to him like they had no common ground at all.

Daphne sighed sadly. "Look Harry, let's say you manage to somehow defeat the dark lord and win this war. What do you think will happen then?" she asked rhetorically and immediately answered. "Purebloods like me will be completely pushed out of the decision making and shown no respect while people like Hermione Granger become Minister of Magic." she said with disgust. "An insane monster ruling the magical world is horrible… but handing it over to mudbloods and blood traitors is even worse. I won't allow it."

"So what exactly are you saying?" he asked.

She looked at him apologetically. "What I am trying to say is that I have no other choice but to stop you, Harry. If you were to defeat the dark lord, then the pureblood cause is as good as dead. The dark lord might be an insane inhumane monster with a crippled soul but he is still a pureblood fighting for a pureblood cause – my cause! He is serving an important purpose, no matter how much I might be disgusted by his actions right now," she concluded.

Harry listened to her speech, completely entranced by one particular detail of it. He looked at her incredulously. 'Could it be… could she not know?' he wondered and then asked her, "So you don't mind that he isn't pureblood?"

"What are you talking about? Who's not pureblood?" Daphne asked and waved her hand dismissively, obviously not getting where he was going with this.

"Voldemort… his father was a muggle. He's a half-blood!" he finally told her and watched for her reaction. Daphne stared at him with open mouth for a moment before she surged forward. Few clicks of her heels against the floor and she was upon him. With his hands tied to the armrests of his chair, Harry had no chance to react or dodge as she raised her hand and struck him across the face. "Awww!" he moaned in protest.

"How dare you?!" she said, absolutely livid with anger. "What did I tell you about lying to me?!"

"I am not lying! His real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. His mother was a near squib and his father a muggle… it's the truth!" Harry quickly yelled as he looked up at her challengingly.

"Explain," she eventually said while gritting her teeth. "How do you know this? What proof do you have?"

Harry nodded. "I can give you the proof," he said, grateful that she was at least willing to listen but he wondered if she was just going to dismiss everything he said. "Will you slap me again if you do not like what I tell you, my lady?" he asked her in sarcastic voice. He was sick and tired of being her whipping boy.

Daphne's blue eyes flashed dangerously at his tone and for a second, he though that she would actually slap him again. But then her expression changed and she looked at him… with shame? She took a step back from him and then called for her guards.

"Take him to my office… now!" she ordered.