Chapter Sixty-Seven: Living with the Dursleys

Daphne wasn't sure what she'd expected from living with magic-hating Muggles, but it was certainly an interesting experience.

The Dursleys hadn't been very keen on allowing her to stay with Harry, but like she'd expected, the promise of a large monetary compensation for it had persuaded them to at least allow her into the house. They were incredibly awkward around her.

Mr. Dursley, especially, made it no secret he didn't like her one bit. Mrs. Dursley mostly pretended she wasn't there at all, while Dudley seemed both scared of her and weirded out by the fact his cousin's girlfriend was living in his house for the summer.

If Daphne hadn't followed Muggle Studies for two years and hadn't had a Muggleborn as one of her closest friends for years, she probably would've become a pureblood supremacist by living with the Dursleys even for a day, let alone the couple of weeks she'd done now. She was absolutely staggered that Harry hadn't gained a hatred of Muggles. He'd lived with these people all his life, and if they hadn't been afraid of him he'd probably still be locked in the cupboard under the stairs.

Of course, she was absolutely certain that if Lucius Malfoy, for example, had to raise a Muggle child, that child wouldn't have had a good life, either, and she'd never dream of judging the entire wizarding society by the terrible example of one family, but even then… Snape clearly had done that, and so had Voldemort himself, according to what Harry had told her about his resurrection.

Despite the hostility the Dursleys gave her, though, Daphne didn't want to be anywhere else. Harry shouldn't have to face four weeks with the Dursleys alone, certainly not after what he'd been through.

"Are you okay?" Daphne asked, sitting down on Harry's bed after the screams from his nightmare had woken her, and shortly after, Harry himself, up.

He slowly shook his head. "I keep seeing it," he said softly. "The graveyard. I'm there with Cedric, and I know he's going to… and I try to tell him to take the Cup and go back, quickly, but every time, before he can move… and then Voldemort appears…"

His breathing was speeding up and Daphne hugged him close. She couldn't do anything else, couldn't offer any words of comfort. She hadn't been in the graveyard, and while she'd faced Voldemort, she'd never faced him like Harry had. She hadn't seen him kill someone in front of her. She hadn't been tortured by him, surrounded by Death Eaters. She knew what had happened to Harry, but she couldn't truly understand, and she wasn't going to pretend she did; she wasn't going to downplay the experience in any way.

So she just sat there, holding Harry, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I'm here for you," she said. "You're not alone. And Voldemort can't get to you here."

Harry hugged her back. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered. "If you weren't, I'd…I'd be going mad. No one's telling us anything except to be careful. After everything I did…shouldn't they at least tell me what's going on? Haven't I earned that much?"

Daphne nodded. "You have," she said. "But, and I know you'll hate hearing this, this is a political situation. Fudge won't admit that Voldemort is back and Dumbledore essentially told him where to stick it. He might be an idiot, but he's an idiot with an ego. He'll do whatever he can to discredit Dumbledore, and that also means he'll try to discredit you. You've seen the nonsense in the Prophet. Owls can be intercepted, and any kind of magic around this house, even Finny Apparating here, might provide them with an excuse to expel you."

"Expel me?!" Harry said indignantly. "I risked my bloody life to–"

"I know," Daphne interrupted, grabbing both of his shoulders. "I know. And you have every right to be angry. Believe me, I am, too. But you're thinking too straightforward, too Gryffindor, about this. You know what people in school are like when something odd happens to you. People don't know what really happened, hear a lot of rumors, and draw their own conclusions. Now multiply that by the entire wizarding society and a newspaper that is eminently bribable.

"Only the people closest to you will understand your side of the story. The rest will make up their own mind on information spread by someone seeking to discredit you, and many of those people will take that information at face value. Why do you think Noble House politics are so convoluted? It's all about appearances and controlling the information people have access to. You don't simply walk up to someone and hex them."

"Be a lot bloody easier if you did, though…"

Daphne chuckled, but then grew serious again. "They'll tell us what's going on when we see them, I'm sure," she said. "And if they don't, I'll get my parents to tell us. But while we're here…you just can't expect much. It's too dangerous, and not because of Voldemort."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "And that's the world your parents have always lived in?" he asked.

"They tried to avoid it as much as possible by being neutral if they could," Daphne said. "But now they're back into it. To help Dumbledore, but mostly for me and you."

"No offense, but I'm glad I'm a Gryffindor…all this political stuff is already driving me nuts…"

"Why d'you think I spend so much time with you guys? I don't really like it, either. But that doesn't mean I won't use it to my advantage if I have to," Daphne said.

Harry nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense," he said.

Daphne smiled, and they sat in silence.

"Think you can sleep again?" Daphne asked after a few minutes.

"Probably…Sorry I woke you up," Harry said.

Daphne shook her head. "Don't worry about it. You've been through hell. If all I can do to help you is sit with you when you wake up after a nightmare, then that's what I'll do, as many times as I have to."

Harry smiled weakly. "You're not sacrificing yourself for me again, are you?"

Daphne grinned. "You prat. I was trying to be all heroic and romantic, here."

"And I really appreciate it," Harry said softly. "Honestly, more than I can tell you…"

"Maybe you could…show me in another way?"

And the kiss that followed that question did indeed do a very good job at conveying Harry's gratitude.

Breakfast was delightfully awkward. Daphne was casually helping herself to some toast while the Dursleys were silently watching her. Dudley was still on a diet and Mrs. Dursley wanted everyone to go along with that, but Daphne had no intention of following the diet, nor of making Harry accept it.

Fortunately, her parents had given her a 'debit card', which she could use to withdraw her own Muggle money when she needed it, and so she'd simply bought food at the nearby grocery store for herself and Harry. She was glad her Muggle Studies classes had already taught her enough about the Muggle world to make this a very easy process, though she wasn't exactly a great cook. Still, for breakfast and lunch, at least, it was good enough.

She and Harry would probably be hanging out outside for most of the day, well out of the way of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, so she wasn't too bothered about their hateful glares. It wasn't like she'd never had to endure those from the likes of Malfoy and his goons before, and Malfoy was a lot more threatening than the Dursleys, which was saying something.

Sure, Dudley was apparently learning boxing, a sport she knew involved punching each other until one person fell over, but she didn't think he'd use it on her — and if he did, she'd hex him into the wall, rules be damned.

Most of her days in the house of the Dursleys were like this. Glares at breakfast and dinner, and being mostly ignored beyond that. Harry showed her around the neighborhood a bit, answering the questions she had about the Muggle world and being generally happy he had someone around he could talk to.

The few letters she and Harry received from Hermione, Ron, Sirius, and her parents all contained mostly warnings and not much in the way of actual information. Knowing she'd have to spend quite a bit of time in Little Whinging, Daphne decided to try and talk to the Dursleys a bit whenever she happened to be alone with any of them.

Mrs. Dursley was first on her list, mostly because she was Harry's Mum's sister and so knew at least a bit about the magical world.

"Why do you pretend magic doesn't exist?" Daphne asked when she happened to be alone in the kitchen with Mrs. Dursley. "Your sister was a witch, wasn't she?"

"She was a freak," Mrs. Dursley said angrily. "Coming home from that school and then spending the entire summer holiday reading those horrible books, hanging out with that awful boy…"

"Do you happen to be talking about Severus Snape?" Daphne asked, knowing that Harry's parents had only started dating late in their school years.

Mrs. Dursley glared at her. "Yes."

"He's a teacher at Hogwarts now, you know. He's the Slytherin Head of House," Daphne said.

"All the more reason it's a school for freaks, then, if he is a teacher there," Mrs. Dursley said. "Always spying on us, living in that terribly rundown hovel at Spinner's End, filling my sister's head with wild ideas…"

"Did she ever tell you why they stopped being friends?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know and I don't care. Good riddance, I say."

Daphne couldn't believe how callous she was. Her sister had been murdered and still Mrs. Dursley couldn't even bear to say anything positive or give any sign at all that she regretted her sister's death. At least Snape clearly hated himself over it.

"And I thought Harry had it bad, but I guess his Mum didn't really have it much better. Rejected by her sister and one of her closest friends in the magical world, and both for the same reason, at that: being a freak. Being a Mudblood."

"She had it bad?! Our parents did nothing but praise her! She could do no wrong with them up until the day they died! And what did I get? Nothing! I wasn't a freak, and so I wasn't interesting to them. Good riddance. I have everything I need and I'll be happy for the day this nonsense is out of my life forever. Now get out of the kitchen!"

Mr. Dursley had been even harder to talk to. Every time Daphne even attempted to start any kind of conversation, he just glared at her and said, "I'm condoning your presence here because I get paid for it. I still don't want to talk to you."

The only one she hadn't talked to yet was Dudley, who, like Daphne and Harry, was mostly out of the house to hang with friends, which in his case meant 'terrorizing the neighborhood kids with his gang'.

Both Daphne and Harry were counting down the days until they'd finally be allowed to leave — their friends' letters hinted that they were already together somewhere, likely the Burrow, but a few days before Harry's birthday they were told they'd have to remain with the Dursleys for a while longer, as Dumbledore apparently thought that would be safer. Daphne wasn't so certain about that, given the sheer levels of hate they were constantly living with.

It really made her want to curse the Dursleys into the ground for treating Harry that way for fourteen years, and on more than one occasion she and Harry spent quite a bit of time coming up with the most elaborate ways to hex the Dursleys and everything they owned. They wouldn't do it, of course, but it was still a lot of fun to fantasize about, and it certainly helped lift Harry's spirits a lot to feel heard and understood by someone.

A few days after Harry's birthday — which had been a rather underwhelming affair, especially compared to the year before — Daphne and Harry were hanging out in a nearby playground, having left the Dursleys' in a hurry after Mr. Dursley had accused them of being the cause of a loud bang nearby, when they spotted Dudley and his gang a bit further over, who were just saying goodbye for the day, presumably after a long day's work of bullying little kids.

Since it was just about time to go home for dinner anyway, they made their way over to Dudley to walk home with him, which would finally give Daphne a moment to talk to Dudley.

"So, 'Big D', who was the victim today?" Harry asked once they were withing speaking distance.

"Were they older or younger than twelve?" Daphne added.

"Oh, it's you two," Dudley said sourly when he saw who was approaching him.

"'Course," Harry said. "Can't let our Ickle Diddykins walk home alone, can we?"

"So brave, aren't you, with your freak sticks?" Dudley asked.

"As opposed to beating up little kids with a whole group, you mean?" Daphne asked.

"I can beat the two of you without help, no problem," Dudley said angrily. "My last opponent was out cold for twenty minutes when I was through with him."

"And I'll turn you into a smear on the concrete before you get the chance. I'm not as nice as Harry is," Daphne said.

They turned into a narrow, dark alleyway that served as a shortcut back to the house.

"Your freak school will expel you if you use it," Dudley said.

"Maybe they've changed the rules…" Harry said, pulling out his wand and looking at it.

"They haven't," Dudley said, though he created some distance between them.

Daphne and Harry chuckled.

"You haven't the guts to take me on without those things, have you?" Dudley snarled.

"You're like five times my size. If you want to beat me up and I don't have my wand on me, I'm running. But I promise you that if you try, I will take revenge once I get my wand back, and you really don't want that," Daphne said. "See, my family's pretty rich, and our Ministry is pretty bribable. I think I could get away with a few good hexes…"

Dudley shuddered, and Daphne instantly realized her idle threat hadn't been the reason.

"Did it get…really cold all of a sudden?" she asked Harry.

"And dark, too," Harry added.

Indeed, it suddenly seemed like a veil of complete darkness was falling over them, which also muted all sounds.

"W-what d-do you t-two think you're d-doing?" Dudley asked.

"This isn't us," Daphne said grimly.

The cold in the air was piercing and getting worse by the second.

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I–"

"Shut up!" Harry said. "If this is what I think it is…"

He fell silent, and it took Daphne only a few seconds to catch on.

"No way, not here…" she said softly, then closed her — already useless — eyes and listened intently. Surely, she wouldn't hear anything. Surely, there wouldn't be…

But there was. A faint sound, as though someone were drawing long, rattling breaths, reached her ears.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll hit you, I swear I will!"

Daphne didn't wait for Dudley to make good on his word. Instead, she grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him backwards, and not a moment too soon. She felt Dudley's massive fist missing both her and Harry by an inch — and then she heard him running away, straight at the Dementor she'd heard.

"No, come back here, you idiot!" Daphne yelled.

It was too late. Dudley shrieked in terror somewhere up ahead in the darkness, and his footsteps stopped.

Then, behind her, she felt the air getting even colder, still. She drew her wand and quickly lit it up, no longer caring about the restriction banning her from using magic. Harry did the same, and in the light of their wands they saw the Dementor gliding toward them, towering high above them, stretching out its scabbed, rotting hands.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry glancing at her. He pointed his wand at the Dementor and said, "Expecto Patronum!"

A huge silver stag burst forward from his wand, its antlers piercing the Dementor's cloak and throwing it backward, forcing it to swoop away like a misshapen bat.

"This way!" Harry shouted at both Daphne and the stag, turning around and beginning to sprint down the alleyway.

Daphne quickly followed him, resolving to learn the Patronus Charm the moment she could. She had to be able to help Harry if something like this ever happened again…

"Dudley! DUDLEY!" Harry yelled, and Daphne saw him, curled up on the ground covering his face with his hands as a second Dementor tried to pry them apart, already lowering its hooded face…

"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and his Patronus barreled past, impaling the second Dementor like it had done with the first and tossing it aside like an empty cloak.

It soared away, and the stag briefly returned to Harry, lowering its head, almost in greeting, and then dispersed into silver mist.

The oppressive darkness disappeared and Harry and Daphne exchanged a shocked look. Why were there Dementors here? Had Voldemort sent them? If he had, did that mean the Ministry had already lost control of Azkaban? If that had happened, though, Mum and Dad would have told her, she was sure of it…

Harry checked up on Dudley, who still lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking.

Loud, running footsteps came up the alley behind them, and Harry and Daphne both whirled around, wands at the ready.

Harry seemed to recognize the grey-haired old lady who was approaching them and hurriedly tried to stash his wand away, but the woman said, "Don't put it away, idiot boy! What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

Yeah, the first chapter of year five ends like the first chapter of Order of the Phoenix does. Couldn't resist. Anyway, stuff's going to get a bit more political now, of course.