Chapter Twenty Three: An Old Friend

January 13th

6:23am

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry

A lance narrowly missed his right side as he stepped to his left, he wasn't looking to get impaled for a second time this month. He moved to the left again to dodge the follow up attack, all the while summoning for snakes and hissing 'bite the female's ankles.' The snakes were non-venomous but their bites would still be a major distraction for his opponent. The snakes slithered along towards Daphne but he thought to conceal them a moment too late as she made quick work of the reptiles.

He hadn't been idle; however, a volley of cutting curses sailed across the room and towards Daphne. She looked up from dispatching the snakes only to have to dodge the first curse of Harry's volley. The second, she had stepped into, cutting a small gash into her side. The shot of pain caused her to shield the rest of the curses which she then used to quickly assess her injury.

Daphne seemed not to care about the superficial cut and instead focused on the next attack Harry chose to throw. He had noticed over the last year of their training that she had started to develop her fighting style more, preferring to counterattack as opposed to how Harry liked to trap his opponents. Having been handed the opportunity, Harry pressed the attack, summoning a swarm of bees as Luna had done in their training sessions.

Daphne countered as he predicted, with a powerful torrent of water to drown the insects in their attempt to close the gap. Harry thought 'glacius' and turned the torrent into ice which threatened to freeze Daphne's wand as the spell travelled down the stream coming from it.

She broke off the spell and immediately blew up the glacier with an exploding hex, sending chunks of ice in all directions. Harry responded with a wall of fire, similar to the one he cast in the cave but much weaker, which slowly advanced on Daphne's position.

The wall limited his visibility tremendously, so when Daphne chose to attack through it rather than dispel it, he was nearly stabbed by the spikes sent through the fire. He managed to redirect them into the wall adjacent to him with a swift, wide sweeping, banishing charm but his close call gave him an idea.

He cast an illusion of himself, pinned to the back wall by the spikes she had sent and dispelled the wall of fire. He then hid himself with a disillusionment charm and disappeared into the steam. Harry watched as she slowly walked forward, her wand raised and the cut on her belly still bleeding slightly.

She scanned the room and discovered his illusion but made no reaction to it. 'The fuck?' he thought before he was sent to the ground in pain. Daphne stood over him, her knuckles on her right hand red and her wand pointed at his heart.

Not one to waste a second, Harry didn't bother to think about how she accomplished this and kicked her legs from under her, making her fall to the ground as well. Harry rolled away and tore the ground up around him to create some semblance of cover. The makeshift cover fell prey to several spells meant for his prone rolling form but not of them destructive enough to break it.

He peeks over it and saw her back on her feet advancing on his position. He raised the cover higher with a vertical flick and brought himself to stand. The sound of her wand flicking made him realise just how much danger he was in hiding behind a single beam of concrete so he turned and shielded just in time for his cover to explode before his eyes.

His wand moved faster than he could think as he jumped through the dust from the explosion. Stunners, body binds and hail of nails all sped towards Daphne who returned to the defensive. She ducked under the stunners, spun away from the two body binds and transfigured her left sleeve into a round wooden shield and hid behind it as the nails impacted it.

Harry closed the distance quickly, picking up a chunk of ice from before and transfiguring it into a simple sledgehammer. As Daphne raised her head from behind the shield when the nails stopped collecting, she hadn't even a fraction of a second before Harry swung the Sledgehammer into the shield, cracking and throwing her to the floor.

She undid the transfiguration and raised her wand to banish him back but the stunner he had followed up with connected first, knocking her out and effectively ending the spar. Harry collapsed onto the floor, exhausted from the mental strain that that session required. They had begun to learn each others fighting habits well enough now that in order to gain the upper hand they both had to get creative.

He rose to his feet after resting a moment and revived her. Daphne's eyes opened and he watched them turn annoyed immediately, he offered his arm to help her up which she accepted. As they walked towards the door the room around them shifted from the blank sparring room to the more homely 'common room' they had agreed upon with couches, arm chairs and coffee tables. They both sat down opposite each other on separate couches and checked over their injuries.

"Did you punch me in the face?" Harry asked as though he didn't believe it.

Daphne smirked slightly and nodded. "I cast my own illusion, by the way yours was horrifying, if I hadn't seen you disillusion yourself I might have believed it. I also cast my own disillusionment charm and snuck around to where I remembered where you were then I saw a disturbance in the steam."

"Well played," Harry commented as he cast an episkey at the quickly forming bruise on his face. "How's your arm?"

"Not great," she admitted, inspecting the yellow and purple bruises running up her left forearm. "I can honestly say I wasn't expecting a sledgehammer."

"That's why it worked," Harry replied as he patted himself down only to wince when he got his chest. He looked down and saw several openings on his shirt and small bits of ice clinging to the front of it. He pulled the collar of it away from his neck so he could look down his shirt and saw several cuts on his chest.

He instinctively was going to take his shirt off to heal them but quickly remembered he wasn't alone. Hands on the hem of his shirt, he looked up to see Daphne watching him with a raised eyebrow. "Do you mind if I—"

"Not at all," she said before he could finish asking.

Her readiness was slightly embarrassing but he wanted these cuts gone, so, with a sigh, he tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it onto the couch beside him. He willed the mirror the room provided him to grow taller and float in front of him so that he could close the cluster of cuts. A number of episkeys later, Harry felt confident he had healed the injuries well enough. He spread his arms and rotated slightly so Daphne could see him better.

"Miss any?" he asked.

Daphne stood and walked over to him, her eyes fixated on his chest. She closed the gap quickly, only having to walk around a small coffee table before she stood right in front of him. She made a show of inspecting the areas the cuts were visually. Her proximity and his state of undress made him a little uncomfortable so he looked away and tried to think of something other than what was happening.

This proved to be a mistake, however, as he felt a soft touch in the middle of his chest. He looked down in surprise, and watched her trace her hand across the place the cuts used to be. The light way in which she did this caused a tingling sensation to spread from the point of contact down his arms and to the tips of his fingers. Her movements stopped when she rested her open palm where she had halted.

"Good as new," she said quietly, her face centimetres from his.

Harry looked for something, anything to say but found the words all died in his throat. Instead of trying to fight his mutinous brain, he fell back on his instincts and raised one of his hands to rest it upon the one she had on his chest.

She looked up when he did that, her eyes shining with doubt, even then he couldn't help but appreciate the way they reminded him of a rolling storm. Her lips parted slightly and he felt the hot breath of her exhale on his neck which sent a shiver across his body. She lifted her face toward his before pulling it back again, biting her lip in an expression of uncertainty he had never seen on her.

Without warning, she darted upwards, her lips crashing against his and locking in an embrace. Too surprised to react, he imagined his first attempt at kissing was a pitiful one but she didn't seem to care, continuing the action with fervour. He got into the swing of it quickly, moving his head in tune with hers, parting his lips in tandem and placing his hands on her hips.

She had moved her right hand to run it through his short hair, her other hand closing to lightly scratch his chest making experience sensations he hadn't thought possible. As first kisses go, Harry felt he had salvaged his. She broke away first but Harry had to take a moment to recenter himself as the euphoria had made him slightly light headed.

"I do believe that was a long time coming," Daphne whispered into his chest. Both of them panted quietly, out of breath from the short make out session because neither of them cared much for air at the moment.

"I can not help but agree," Harry replied easily. "How long for you?"

"You've always been attractive, but I didn't think anything of it until after Umbridge."

'Okay, a little weird but I'm not going to complain,' he conceded.

"That's what? A year?" he asked.

"Yes, but that was only when I realised I was attracted to you, I didn't think about anything like this until this year," she explained. "What about you?"

"Our first meditation session, you unlocked something in my brain that day." Harry found that even though it was a scary topic, he could talk with her about it easily, free of embarrassment or doubt.

"Your brain you say? That's what the boys are calling it these days then?"

Harry laughed and kissed her again, it was more chaste and delicate this time and he was incredibly proud of himself for taking the initiative. However reality had been creeping in at the edges of his mind the minute the first kiss had stopped and the situation they were in once again became real. "We are fighting a war Daphne, is a relationship going to only serve as a distraction to get us killed?"

"I'm distracting am I?" she asked, stepping back and crossing her arms.

A once over was all Harry needed to answer, "yes," with a high degree of certainty in his voice.

"Good," she replied, before stepping in close again and looking up into his eyes. "You and me, we're going to shape the world for generations to come. I never thought I'd find someone who could accept my ambitions, let alone share them. If we weren't able to distract each other then I believe this little arrangement wouldn't be as nearly as effective."

Harry didn't try and speak, he simply stared at her in wonder. The way she spoke, with such passion, made it difficult to refute her beliefs.

"So," she remarked, pushing Harry onto the couch behind him. "Sit back," she straddled him on the couch and linked her arms behind his neck, "and be thankful I followed you into a dingy little pub in Hogsmeade."

To this, Harry responded with a smile and said, "I can do that," before leaning in for round two… and many more rounds to come.

January 28th

9:32pm

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry

"Enter."

Harry pushed open the large oak door into the headmaster's office, one again being called to meet at a late hour, bringing his attention away from his other duties. That didn't take away from his chipper mood however, along with having a horcrux in his possession, his relationship with Daphne had moved to a very exciting new chapter. As he stepped into the entranceway, he felt the familiar set of wards wash over his body, the continued meditation had an effect of heightened magical sensitivity allowing him to experience active magic on a different level than his peers.

A glance at the headmaster as he walked up showed him the devastating effect of dark magic. The man had always projected an air of strength no matter how frail his body looked. But now, Dumbledore sat with a slouch, the skin around his eyes and cheeks sagged and his hair was unkempt. None of the powerful presence people associated with Dumbledore was present in the aged man before him.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted simply. Harry merely nodded his head in return and took a seat across from the man. "You need to shave my boy," Dumbledore jested easily.

Harry rubbed his stubble covered chin and found himself agreeing with the headmaster, "I can't say it's been a priority as of late." Memories of Daphne flashing across his subconscious as they so often did now.

"Me neither," Dumbledore muttered absentmindedly, his eyes losing focus. Harry cleared his throat, bringing Dumbledore back to the present who smiled and said, "I've noticed your absence from the castle several times in the past few weeks."

"I've not been trying to hide it," Harry answered shortly.

"Yes, I imagined so. It is interesting that your absences coincide with several of my order members being unreachable."

A silence ensued, Dumbledore and Harry stared at each other, neither giving the other ground. Dumbledore was the first to speak though, changing the subject as he asked Harry, "how goes the acquisition of Horace's memory?"

"Well enough. Progress has been slower than I'd hoped but he suspects nothing at least."

The headmaster nodded his head in appreciation and sat up a little straighter. "That is good to hear, I imagine Miss Greengrass has been most helpful in this endeavour?"

"Her worth is immeasurable," Harry said without thinking before snapping to Dumbledore's face and seeing the old man smile.

"Congratulations are in order then?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically, "young love can be quite powerful Harry for better… or worse." The headmaster's eyes stared off into the past of old mistakes and regrets.

Harry took the moment to flick his own eyes down to the blackened hand resting on the desk in front of him. 'A withering curse, he should be dead… unless his pet dungeon bat is as capable in the dark arts as he believes. He'll be dead soon though, there's no containing that curse forever,' Harry thought.

It seemed Dumbledore had caught him staring as he spoke, "you recognise such a curse? The Black family library keeps you well informed."

"I know if Snape had put as much effort into our duel as he did to contain that curse to your hand, I would have been more pressed to best him." Harry looked at the man with a hint of pity, "you know what's coming right?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly and Fawkes trilled a mournful tune, "I know what's coming Harry, death, a painful one if Severus is to be believed." Harry nodded, disliking that he was agreeing with Snape. "Yes well, I am just one man, and an old one at that. I hope the men and women who chose to follow me find themselves following you when I am gone, look out for them will you, Harry?"

"Only people who fight for Voldemort have anything to fear from us, anyone else will be protected as best we can."

"That is a relief," Dumbledore admitted softly. "I have never had the stomach for war, Harry, my heart has always longed for academic life. In this newfound understanding I have resigned from dictating the outcome of this war and instead turned to ways I can assist you."

Harry listened in surprise, 'what's the catch headmaster?'

Dumbledore saw Harry's disbelief and, in response, waved his good hand in front of him and the room transformed. The tall bookshelves behind him emptied and its contents appeared scattered around the room, all of them open. No space was more unorganised than the desk they both sat at, tomes older than memory covered the desktop and the floor surrounding it.

"As you can see," Dumbledore continued, "it is a task I have taken very seriously."

"An understatement if there ever was one." Harry picked up the book closest to him and examined it. "'Secrets of the Soul by Sleponius Fortlout, for the horcruxes I take it?"

"Another reason I wanted to speak with you tonight," Dumbledore began. Harry observed a sad look behind Dumbledore's half spectacles which gave him a bad feeling. "You see in my frantic attempt at recording all relevant knowledge for your benefit, I have come to a most alarming conclusion… a conclusion which will affect you specifically."

"And it has to do with the horcruxes?"

"Indeed it does," Dumbledore confirmed, "however a small history lesson is required before we continue." Harry hid the pained expression he wanted to make and merely nodded his head giving Dumbledore the go ahead. "Around eighteen years ago a prophecy was made, a prophecy concerning two young boys."

Harry knew immediately what Dumbledore was talking about, himself and Neville. 'If he doesn't get to the point soon I might just nod off and see how long it takes him to notice.'

"However the prophecy was clear enough that only one would grow up to be able to vanquish the Dark Lord of the time, but, who would be chosen? They were both born at the end of the seventh month, their parents had defied the Dark Lord thrice and they were both boys, just as the prophecy dictated. All that's left, was up to the Dark Lord himself, who would he consider equal to that of his own power? By chance or by fate, the Dark Lord chose the half-blood babe and attacked the cottage at which he stayed."

'Must he recount the death of my parents for context?' Harry thought in irritation, 'I know this story well because it is about me.'

"The Dark Lord, by choosing the half-blood and personally seeing to his death, had decided that the boy was at least worthy of his attention. A gesture of equality?... perhaps, but there is more to the story. The Dark Lord had taken measures to prevent his death… measures that defiled the natural laws of magic."

'Where is this going…'

"On that fateful night, the Dark Lord attacked the house and killed the little boy's parents before turning his wand to the babe. The small, innocent child looked up at the Dark Lord who looked down at him dispassionately, casting the killing curse at the boy. But, to the surprise of no one more than the Dark Lord, it did not work and the curse rebounded, destroying his physical form and lowering himself to living as a wraith for years to come."

"I know this story, Dumbledore, why bother to recount it?" Harry interrupted.

"Because, Harry, you are missing a crucial element," Dumbledore answered with a tremor in his voice. "For years the boy lived with visions, pain and moods not his own."

'Wait…'

"Was it leftover dark magic in the boy's system? That could not be true because he had been examined several times. No the answer was much more elusive than those he hoped to help him had anticipated. Theories came and went, a side effect of Dark Magic, a connection with the Dark Lord through possession or even a legilimency attack."

'Could it be…'

"But a truer understanding of the Dark Lord's protective measures brought with it a horrible truth," Dumbledore mournfully spoke.

Harry stood and walked over to the thin window to the right of the headmaster's desk. The night sky was covered by clouds which were pelting the window with rain. A fitting atmosphere for the news he figured he was about to receive.

"So you believe… that on halloween…?"

"Do I believe that Voldemort created a horcrux accidentally that night? I do. I have reason to think that upon being hit by the killing curse, his already unstable soul splintered and a part of it latched onto the only living thing in the room."

Harry hung his head low, his mind connecting the dots with Dumbledore's hypothesis. 'The piece of his soul inside me connecting with the main soul in Voldemort's body allows me to see into his mind. The spirit that attacked me in my core must have been Voldemort, particularly malevolent on Halloween for obvious reasons. Being able to feel the horcrux when it was in my presence… it all makes too much sense.'

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying to regather his attention.

"So I must die then? To kill Voldemort for good?" The casual way he asked the question was an attempt to conceal the pit of hopelessness threatening to swallow him whole. Over a year of his life dedicated to his own survival went to waste in the length of one single conversation.

"I believe so, yes."

"You believe so?" Harry repeated as a question in an angry voice. "You tell me my death is required and you can only offer me your belief?"

Dumbledore spread his arms, gesturing to the plethora of books everywhere. "I have spent every waking moment searching for another way. Ancient remedies, dark arts, forgotten rituals, I have found nothing that could help you escape your fate."

"My fate?" he muttered in disbelief. "My fate seems to have a knack for changing its mind. Just last year it was my fate to kill the greatest dark lord of human history and now I have to die."

"I am not finished with my research Harry, there is still hope—"

"Hope! Do not presume to talk about hope in my presence, not anymore." The explosiveness fading with each word. He couldn't even bring himself to anger without becoming flat. "What hope is there for a dying man? What hope is there for a boy who is apparently destined to be destiny's plaything?"

He slid down the wall and fell to the floor, his head resting against the cold stone wall. 'If there are gods then they are cruel,' he thought maliciously, 'just as things were getting good too.' An image of Daphne smirking played in his mind as he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this Harry, but you are a horcrux and, as far as I can see, you must die to kill Voldemort."

A/N Biggg chapter today, huge even. Less words but big events.

Here we go, the romance has come to fruition. After several attempts at talking things out and putting it off for the mission, Daphne has simply gone for it cause why not? They're both attracted to each other, that ain't going away and they see each other everyday. May as well get it out of their system and keep moving forward. This chapter made me realise I hadn't given Daphne a birthday but I am just gonna say they're both sixteen here so making out is a-okay for their age.

I hadn't planned to make the romance happen here but I've gotten a few reviews that have asked for it and upon reviewing their journey I saw no need to wait for later chapters. Especially with the bombshell I dropped on Harry.

Dumbledore has made the choice not to be a pain in the ass, yay! This was always in the pipeline, I wanted readers and Harry to remember Dumbledore as a man who cleaned up his mess before leaving the place. Making sure Harry takes care of his friends, arming Harry with the knowledge he'll need to finish the fight and placing Snape in a favourable position to top it off.

Harry's mood is gonna be pretty sour for a while, finding out victory means death isn't exactly a fun thing to carry, especially only a fortnight after his relationship with Daphne has begun. Of course we know Dumbledore figures out that Harry can safely die at the hands of Voldemort but that was when he was solely focused on his sacrificial lamb plan… now he's a bit distracted.

Next chapter we've got Harry's hasty actions and a little more sadness.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

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