Chapter Twenty Four: The Purpose of Power

February 4th

8:22am

Hogwarts, Scotland

Daphne

For the past few days Daphne had been searching the castle top to bottom in search for Harry. For a week their new arrangement had been going swimmingly, a new incentive to end the sparring sessions earlier went a long way in improving their creativity with a very sweet reward at the end. However that all changed the day Harry met with the headmaster, since that day he hasn't shown up to any of the morning sessions nor shown his face at any class or meal.

Worry had begun to creep into her mind after two days, compounded on the third when there was no communication from him to indicate his absence. Her first stop had been Blaise, after all, he had the magic map Harry had given him.

She had interrogated him at length, where he had seen Draco's name that night? Had Draco been near the headmaster? What about Snape? Blaise had answers for everyone of those questions, he'd seen Draco's name on the seventh floor corridor. Snape and Draco were on opposite ends of the castle that night, nowhere near Harry at all. Blaise had been a bust, worst still she had to try and explain her interrogation in a way that wouldn't raise questions.

Then she found herself in the library, prodding Hermione Granger for information. Could the map be fooled? What places in the castle doesn't it cover besides the room of requirement? How likely was the map to fail? Again her hopes were shot down, the map couldn't be fooled not even as an animagus or under an invisibility cloak. The room of requirement was all she knew about and the map was highly unlikely to fail.

The fifth day arrived and she had decided to contact Lupin. The tired man answered the call and Daphne found herself using a great amount of mental energy to try and weasel information out of him without giving anything away.

"Has Harry come around yet? He said he might come by to check up on the horcrux progress," she had lied, hoping that Remus would give more away than necessary.

"No," Remus had answered, "I haven't seen Harry since we found the vile thing."

"Okay, no worries, I'll see if he simply forgot. Goodbye Lupin."

Daphne had needed the call and collapsed into an armchair. Her three main leads had come up dry, not a single comforting piece of information was given. 'Think… if the death eaters had him then Snape would've informed Dumbledore and by extension the order which means we'd know. He's not at the chateau, he's not attending classes and he's not been seen since the headmaster spoke with him…' Her frantic recollection session ended abruptly as she realised what a fool she'd been. 'The headmaster…'

And so, on the sixth day since Harry's disappearance, she found herself climbing the spiral staircase to the leader of the order's office. She'd never been in the headmaster's office, in fact she had actively avoided it her whole time at the school. The simple wooden door in front of her seemed almost comical when she considered the grand reputation of the person behind it.

A soft, if somewhat surprised, "enter" came from the other side and she pushed the door aside. 'Much better,' she remarked internally as she took in the headmaster's office for the first time. The tall ceiling, absurdly high bookshelves and throne-like chair much better suited the supposedly 'most powerful wizard of their time.'

"Miss Greengrass," Dumbledore greeted from his position at his desk.

Daphne took in Albus Dumbledore with a mixture of disappointment and smugness. The man was frail, no doubt about it, half way through death's door if she was honest. Even his voice held no life, as if he was expending the smallest amount of energy for the task as possible.

"Headmaster," she replied simply.

He offered the seat across from him but she stayed standing. 'Harry is missing and you know why, I'll not make it so easy to bury that.'

Dumbledore looked taken aback but moved on quickly. "I must say your presence in this chamber is most unexpected, given your disdain for me of course."

Daphne's lip twitched upwards at Dumbledore's opening statement. 'This is how it is to be then…' She moved to the well sculpted pillar to her right, leaned against it on her shoulder and painted an unbothered look on her face. "Disdain?" she asked idly, "that's a strong word."

"But not inaccurate I'd wager," Dumbledore retorted, a small amount of life returning to convey a flippant tone. "Which I find most fascinating, considering how I have no recollection of ever spurning you or your family."

Daphne eyed a trinket on a small table to her right, she ambled over and inspected it with fake interest. "Not directly. Consider my feelings born of a difference in ideology."

"And what would that be, Miss Greengrass?"

"The purpose of power," she answered, opting to look at Dumbledore as she did to nail home the effect.

An almost imperceptible frown adorned the headmaster's expression as she had hoped. The whole point of the verbal contest was to set the tone of the serious conversation. First Dumbledore antagonises to elicit an emotional reaction from her. She responds flippantly, deflecting Dumbledore's attempt at garnering her intentions straight away. Next he snaps back with another attempt at pulling information from her. She delivers the bait, the headmaster gobbles it up and she gets to end it with a powerful finishing statement.

'The person who cares the least wins these games, and if you care too much, simply act otherwise.'

Having lost the word game, Dumbledore instead goes for the direct approach. "What can I do for you Miss Greengrass?"

Daphne hid a smile behind her masking, even if Dumbledore looked pathetic she knew his mind was keen as ever and she would remember this victory for a long time. "Six nights ago, Harry came here to speak with you, what did you talk about?"

"Trouble in paradise?" he tried but Daphne stared at him until he continued, "the contents of our discussion then and hereafter are private. If Harry chooses to tell you then that is his prerogative, however, I will not reveal anything."

Daphne strolled over casually to the bookcase on the far side of the room and inspected the books on display. "Do you care about him, Dumbledore?"

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore replied to her surprise. "It is that care for him that does not allow me to tell you anything despite your own fondness of him."

Daphne fought the urge to snap her gaze to Dumbledore at his proclamation. 'Sneaky old man, you almost had me.' She wandered to the other side of the office, feeling somewhat drawn to a dark brown bookcase full of oddly shaped objects spinning at random speeds and intervals. She plucked one off the shelf which spun rhythmically and felt a familiar sense from it.

'The feeling is… familiar, I know this magic.'

"Are you quite finished Miss Greengrass?" she heard behind her which made her instinctively turn around. The headmaster saw the trinket in her hand and his lips pulled into a tight smile. "Ah yes, a device I use to monitor Harry's vitals, as you can see he is in good health." The rhythmic spins now made sense, his heartbeat was being constantly transmitted to the device in her hand.

'A good sign, the first in almost a week. Doesn't mean he isn't trapped somewhere or something worse.'

She looked up at him and he must have detected a hint of disbelief in her eyes as he leaned back and sighed heavily. "And the purpose of your visit reveals itself. You think I have done something with Harry?"

Daphne put the device back on the shelf and walked up to the desk and stood in front of the old Professor. "He hasn't been seen in six days. Last anyone heard from him, he was coming to see you. The death eaters don't have him, he's not in any known haunts and hasn't resurfaced even for meals. What would you think?"

Dumbledore watched her through her explanation with sad eyes and it took all she had not to yell at the man to drop the act. Dumbledore leaned forward when she was done, his sad eyes turning focused as he spoke, "I do not make a habit of kidnapping teenagers Miss Greengrass. If you're having romantic concerns then that is not an issue for the headmaster."

Daphne could barely contain her shock, the utter dismissal of a real problem. 'This must be how Harry felt when he brought the Azkaban breakout to him.' Even so, in the past week, she had considered him getting cold feet the reason for his disappearance. Such insecurity was new to her, she had always been confident in herself and her self worth but this calamity had managed to put a chink in her armour. Could it be possible he was just completely avoiding her? He certainly had the skill required. 'No, he has only ever been supportive and agreeable. The headmaster has done something and is trying to hide it with his dismissal. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this.'

Daphne stared the old man down, Dumbledore stared back. Neither making a move, each analysing the other's slightest twitch, the faintest of movements. Fawkes, the headmaster's phoenix, squawked and Daphne watched his eyes flick to the bird for a brief second before she exploded into action. In one fluid motion, the wrist holster, disillusioned on her right arm, ejected her wand, which she caught, as she moved to a side-on stance.

"Peace!" Dumbledore cried out as he held his hands up in surrender. Daphne paused the spell she had formed in her mind to listen to what he had to say. The old man looked genuinely concerned that she was going to curse an unarmed man, he had good reason to be. "I apologise for my words, they were simply a way to see how far you were willing to go to know about Harry's safety."

"We both know his importance," she replied by way of understanding his methods, she had done the same to him mere moments ago.

"I can swear to you I had little to do with Harry's supposed disappearance. Whilst I can't reveal to you specifically what was discussed on the twenty eighth, I can, regretfully, inform you that a terrible burden lies on his shoulders now."

Daphne scoffed and lowered her wand. "More terrible than having to kill a madman who drowned himself in the dark arts?" Dumbledore did not answer, merely giving her a hard stare. "Do you have even the faintest idea where I can find him then?"

Dumbledore lowered his hands and leaned back in his chair again, the tension from before a distant memory. "Perhaps it is best to ask ourselves whether he wants to be found?"

'He doesn't know. Dear Merlin this was a headache, sparring, verbally or otherwise, is much more fun with Harry.'

"He does," Daphne retorted and, with a flourish of her hand, sheathing her wand. 'Even if he doesn't know it yet,' she tagged on internally. With a bored expression she drawled out, "if you have nothing to add…?"

"I do, if you don't mind?" he added making it sound like a question but with no intention to keep it to himself if she said no. Daphne answered by not leaving the room which invited Dumbledore to say his peace. "If you find him, in all likelihood, he will be at his lowest. If you care for him, as I do, you will raise him up and help him fulfil his destiny."

'He can't help but be profound at every chance can he?' Daphne eyed the headmaster with a calculating gaze, whatever they had discussed must have been truly terrible. She thought she'd seen him at his lowest after the Mungo's massacre, as the media had coined it, but even then he bounced back pretty hard. 'At least on the outside, who knows what's going on in that head of his.'

"Thank you," she started snootily, "for your words of wisdom. If you'll excuse me, I have a child of prophecy to locate."

Daphne left with her head held high, but her mind swirled in turmoil. Now that she had left the room her ego all but evaporated and all that was left was the myriad of questions left unanswered. Namely, where was Harry Potter? And, if she found him, what kind of state would he be in?

February 20th

8:36pm

Hogwarts, Scotland

Daphne

The rain pelting the astronomy tower's roof made for a poor place to quietly think. Of course, thinking wasn't her main objective that night, no no. Waiting was the task, a task she felt she did remarkably well, not everyone could stand in place for two hours in the freezing bloody cold.

'I don't see the appeal. Why do so many students choose perhaps the coldest place in the castle for their late night trysts? I suppose it does help having a secret room at our disposal but still.'

There was no danger of a riled up couple using the space that night, a host of wards kept the adventurous ones at bay. She needed this space free of interference for even she did not know what would happen when he finally arrived.

Three and a half weeks, that's how long Harry Potter had been hiding from everyone. For nearly four weeks she had been tiptoeing the line of excuses, half truths and straight up lies to her allies. She knew Remus had begun to be suspicious, Hermione too but none more than Blaise. Blaise's suspicion came from her incessant requests to use the map after he had reported to her that he had seen Harry on the second floor.

For five days she watched him do the same circuit; from the second floor bathroom to the kitchens where he would stay for around an hour before he would finally make his way to the astronomy tower where his name would stay unmoving for several hours. It worried her, many a night she had spent racking her brain for what the cause of his behaviour was but each theory was as unlikely as the last. With a chance to ambush him though, she hoped she wouldn't have to guess much longer.

From her place leaning on the balcony, she heard the old wooden door scrape against the floor and half turned to see just the person she had been waiting for.

Harry, for the most part, looked fine. A bit more pale than usual perhaps but he still looked like a property functioning human being. He didn't notice as he stepped into the room, nor as he closed the door. Without even so much as a peep he purposely walked to a blank side of the wall and Daphne half expected him to smack it with his face. That didn't happen however, instead, he stopped a metre before the wall and waved his wand. A blue shimmer materialised in front of a group of bricks and the bricks parted, revealing a hidden hole in the wall no bigger than a head.

He reached in with his freehand and pulled a book out, one that she recognised almost immediately.

'Thats the damned meditation book I got him for his birthday! Oh that's it!'

She whipped her wand up and ferociously summoned the book from his hand as the hole in the wall closed. He twisted around quickly, wand halfway raised but when he saw who had stolen his book he lowered it slowly.

"Out for a bit of light reading in the open air?" Daphne bit out, shaking in anger. She threw the book at his feet when her question was met with frustration. He crouched down to recollect the book and refused to meet her eyes. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Still he didn't meet her gaze but his jaw did tense before he had the decency to mutter, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she scoffed, "that's all you've got to say?" She marched up to him and continued her tirade, "I've been running up and down this castle investigating death eaters, order members and even Dumbledore himself trying to find you. That's not to mention the huge amount of covering I've had to do for you."

He brushed past her and placed the book down on the floor, open on a specific page. He turned around then, annoyance etched on his face and a distinct lack of regret present. "You have my thanks, just tell people I want to be left alone from now on."

"Left alone? Are you insane?"

"I may very well be," he cut back petulantly. His fists were balled at his sides and she could see the veins on his forearm popping out because he was tensing so much.

This made her more angry than she thought she had ever been, who was he to be mad when he is so clearly in the wrong? "I'm sorry but what the fuck do you have to be so angry about?"

The fire inside his eyes produced a caution in her that she hadn't felt around Harry since he had captured her in fifth year. She involuntarily took a step back and slowly drew her wand once more. Seeing this, Harry's eyes widened in surprise, the almost red iris reverting to the calm emerald green. He grabbed the side of his head, knelt beside the book and murmured phrases she didn't fully hear.

After a moment, she watched his whole body relax and heard him let out a long sigh. He stood up, reaching his full height and looked her in the eyes when he said, sincerely, "I am sorry, I haven't been myself lately."

"And that's supposed to make everything better?" Daphne asked with her arms crossed, wand still in her hand. "You couldn't have told me you were going to spend some time alone?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Harry asked with his face pinched in pain as he recognised how terrible that sounded.

Daphne stared at him, searching for deceit but found none. This only served to infuriate her even more but she kept it to herself. 'I'm unlikely to get answers if I keep yelling at him, I can't deny it felt great to get that out though.'

"I meant to approach you, you know, I just got wrapped in… other things," he admitted vaguely. The lack of concrete answers was driving her mad and even with her above average acting abilities, she doubted she could convey pure frustration better than what she was organically doing. "But everyday it got pushed back and the further it went on the more I dreaded having to face you."

"So you're a coward?" she asked scornfully, "the great Harry Potter, slayer of basilisks and giants can't face his…" She trailed off, she didn't know what their relationship was called. It had only been a week of intimacy and even then it wasn't that full on.

'I'll be damned if he gets to define it though, not after this.'

"His friend," she finished with a challenging stare. She could see it had hurt him a little but he mostly wore an expression of urgency.

"I- I didn't disappear because of you." He stepped forward and ran a hand through his longer hair, "what I'm going through has nothing to do with you or us."

"It doesn't matter," Daphne retorted, "you disappeared, in war time no less and, well, you made me worry about you."

He smiled at her words, happy to know that she cared and was comfortable enough to say so. "I am sorry."

Daphne sighed, 'gods I thought I could hold a grudge? What the hell happened?'

"I know," she said, "but I'm going to need more than a sorry

"Of course, let me know what I can do to make it up to you," Harry offered earnestly. To Daphne the Harry that entered and the one she was speaking to now were entirely different people, almost as if he was bewitched.

"Well for starters you can get changed," she told him in a smug manner. Bewitched or not she was enacting revenge early.

"Why?"

"Because we've got a little late night meeting with Professor Slughorn," she revealed with a small smirk. Hearing Slughorn's name made Harry frown which brought her a slight bit of vindication.

"Slughorn? Yes I suppose that is for the best," he remarked to the silent confusion of Daphne. "What were you going to do if this went differently?"

"Go by myself, the war didn't stop because you disappeared you know," she sniped back as she walked to a corner of the room where a small cupboard lay with neatly folded clothes on top of it.

"Fair enough, let me just go to the tower–" The clothes smacked Harry in the face who instinctively caught them despite being assaulted by them. He looked down and found a nice button up shirt and his jeans in his hands.

"Here will do fine," she said with finality, taking a seat on a nearby astronomy class chair and giving no indication she was going to give him any privacy as he got changed.

"Well played," he conceded, "well played indeed."

February 20th

9:01pm

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry

After giving Daphne a free show at his own expense, they walked to Slughorn's office in silence. He wanted to say many things, apologise some more, spill the beans on his secret, compliment her hair but all of them died half way up his throat. No amount of words would make his actions justifiable, perhaps for a normal person they would but he had responsibilities to the people he presumed to lead.

'Not much normal about me anymore, I'm not even just 'me' at this point.'

He had isolated himself for just this reason, he no longer knew who he was. Too often he would experience fury that didn't come from a place inside himself, it would always feel so distant. That fury had helped him do terrible things, great, but terrible, just as Ollivander had once said.

And now, as if the horcrux knew it had been discovered, it influenced him more, lashed out at the slightest tension. For weeks he'd been meditating and trying to find a way to sever the connection between the Dark Lord and himself but the more failures he incurred the more frustrated he got which, in turn, fed the horcrux.

From what he knew of Horcruxes, he was surprised it hadn't overtaken a young Harry Potter from infancy. It took him a week to remember how weak the Diary was in his second year, taking months to possess Ginny properly. He had theorised that, as Voldemort got stronger, so too did the horcruxes. More reflection on his second year had him questioning how he could still be a horcrux.

'If basilisk venom destroys Horcruxes, how is the one inside me still alive? Perhaps it weakened the connection enough to protect me from possession but not enough ti destroy it because of the phoenix tears? 'It was a guessing game of course, no one knew much about the nature of horcruxes. 'Well,' he thought as they approached a door at the end of a corridor, 'next to no one.'

One knock later had the door unlocked and swung wide open. Professor Slughorn stood in the open doorway beaming from ear to ear. "Harry! Daphne! Come in, come in."

The pair walked into the professor's office and followed him through to his living quarters. A homely place, if a bit lavish, no one could say that Slughorn didn't have a taste for the finer things though.

"I must say Professor, I love how you've decorated the place," Daphne gushed. Harry almost gagged at how fake Daphne was being, a future politician if there ever was one.

"Thank you my dear but I must insist you call me Horace in private, you too Harry," he reminded them. Harry doubted he'd ever get used to being friendly with the man who dedicated his life to putting a price on his 'friends.'

"Of course, Horace," Daphne simpered. Harry wandered over to a desk on the far side of the office, opposite the small balcony, and found the hourglass Riddle had gifted the man long ago. The hourglass brought back memories, feelings that were not his own. He could feel them rising inside himself. "I heard about a mishap with one of your third years sir…"

"Ah yes!" Slughorn boisterously recalled, "Flint's younger brother, Cassius or some such, forgot which direction to stir and ended up with boils all over his arm, poor boy."

"How unfortunate," Daphne remorsefully intoned. "I think I'll send him a batch of cookies or something, cheer the boy up."

Slughorn made a noise of surprise and remarked, "my dear girl you are one of a kind. Sometimes I forget you are the one who defied Bellatrix Lestrange in the ministry last year."

"Thank you, Horace."

"What about you Harry?" Slughorn asked, turning in his comfy love seat to see Harry inspecting the hourglass intently. It gave him the briefest of pauses before he continued on, "I haven't seen you in class much recently."

"I've been… busy," Harry deflected, Daphne was giving him an intense warning look but frankly, he didn't have the patience for Slughorn anymore. "Wars to fight, plans to be made, that sort of stuff."

"Of course, of course. I'm sure I can make an exception for someone working so diligently to rid the world of the Dark Lord," Slughorn not so subtly offered.

'Stinking rat, sitting there so comfortably, hiding the knowledge that would condemn us all to horrific deaths if not shared. Then the audacity to try and make a profit out of it all as if I'd be alive to let him cash in,' he thought viciously. The muscles in his body began to tense and the blood pumped in his ears to the point where he almost didn't hear himself speak.

"But I can't, can I?" he asked in an eerily calm voice.

Daphne was shaking her head out of Slughorn's view, mouthing 'stop' to him but he couldn't, not anymore, there wasn't enough time and there wasn't enough Harry.

"I'm sorry? I didn't quite catch that Harry, hearing isn't what it used to be I'm afraid," he jested but Harry could hear the nervousness in his chuckle. He had heard him, no doubt about it.

"I said—" he began with more venom but was cut off by Daphne.

"Do you have anything to drink Horace? I'm quite parched, is all."

Horace jumped out of his seat and resumed his cheery persona, "I've got some great bottles of mead in the back, I'll get some glasses for us too." As he rushed away, Daphne got up and briskly walked over to Harry.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing what you can't," Harry shortly answered.

"You're tearing down a months long plan to ease the memory out of him, one more wrong move and—"

"I need that memory as soon as possible, failing that, the knowledge of how many Horcruxes can be made," he cut in. "I will not wait for the pretentious coward to feel like doing his duty."

"Harry, you gave this operation to me, let me do what I do best," she tried. If only she knew she wasn't speaking to just Harry anymore.

"Yes, I gave you the reins but I am still in command," he reminded her harshly.

Daphne looked betrayed, not only ten minutes ago had he said he would reconcile with her but here he is now, destroying her work and pulling rank. She didn't get to say much else because Slughorn walked in and she had to plaster a smile on her face before walking back to her seat on one of the couches. Slughorn poured three cups of mead and shared them around. Slughorn and Daphne drank heartily but Harry only took a sip.

"So," Slughorn started, "tell me about how this relationship blossomed."

Daphne raced to answer the question before Harry could say anything more damaging. "We both have a love for muggle exercise so we spent a lot of time together getting fit. One thing lead to another and now we're here."

"Muggle exercise you say? Surprising, very surprising, especially from someone of your… upbringing."

Harry repressed a sneer whilst Daphne gave a small smile. "Damien Greengrass knows the value of Muggles, Horace, something he passed down to me."

"Oh do not mistake me my dear, I am not prejudiced at all, why, the greatest potioneer who ever stepped foot in my classroom was indeed raised by muggles," he said reassuringly before turning to Harry with a smile. "It was your mother of course, the brightest witch of her age, they called her. She was dealt a terrible injustice."

Fire, fire mixed with his blood and spread throughout his body, he felt it fuel his darkest desires and make his hands tremble. Daphne's eyes had widened for the second time this night, for she knew that Harry was too far gone now, nothing she did could stop him short of force. Even then she had yet to beat him.

"Injustice? What a joke," he spat at the old man. "It is you who commits the greatest injustice, aiding the Dark Lord in his quest for power, claiming to be a good man then spitting in the faces of those that bleed to save slimy little shites like you."

Horace Slughorn's face comically switched in expressions in what might've been a cycle from fear to anger to sorrow then back again. He seems to settle on anger as, I'm response to Harry's accusation, he stood up and shouted, "get out! Get out! Dumbledore spy!"

"Dumbledore! I don't work for Dumbledore you daft old fool, unfortunately for you that means you are in significantly more danger," Harry threatened.

"You won't hurt me, you're the Chosen One, a force for good," Slughorn tried to reason but Harry could smell the fear on this one. A cornered animal, but not the kind ti lash out in defiance, the kind to curl up into a ball and take the beating.

Harry picked up his mead and downed it in one hit. He had to gather all his strength not to make a face as he did so but he managed it. He slowly advanced on the Professor before stopping an inch from his face, "you wouldn't even be the first professor I've made disappear. Ask the people who stood in my way of stopping Voldemort what happens, you may find it difficult though because most of them end up dead or having wished they were."

Slughorn looked around frantically for an escape, a lifeline, anything. He turned his gaze to Daphne who met his pleading eyes with a blank stare. He looked around at the many valuable and priceless things he'd collected over the years of networking and currying favour and realised he really didn't want to die.

"What? What do you want to know?" he asked quietly, shamefully, knowing that he would divulge anything and everything to save his neck.

Harry took a step back and let out an exhale. He spotted the unopened mead and picked it up reading the label that said 'to Albus' and took great joy in opening it for himself. The alcohol was helping take the edge off of the horcrux's influence and he could feel himself calming down if only slightly. He took a swig and asked the most important question first.

"How many?" he asked, seeing if Slughorn would guess what he was talking about.

"How many what?" Slughorn replied, either playing dumb or genuinely not knowing. The genuine confusion on his face would suggest the latter.

"How many damn *cough* horcruxes can you make before your soul is destroyed?" Harry asked irritatedly, drinking more mead to clear his throat.

"Seven," Slughorn confessed, "when Tom Riddle came to me all those years ago I thought it was all academic, I thought—"

"I don't care," Harry cut him off causing an indignant look to rise over the earlier fear. "Have you any idea what they are or where they could *cough* *cough* be?"

"Harry are you alright?" Daphne asked from behind him. He gave her a wave to indicate she was fine and looked intently at Horace.

"No," he answered, "as I was saying, it never occurred to me that a child would think to create one, let alone several."

"Your lack of imagination has caused countless deaths including that of my mother's, father's and brother's," he declared mercilessly. "You act the bumbling fool and you do so well, but I wonder if foolishness is simply your nature which is why it is so easy to portray."

Harry stood but had to grasp his chair for support. 'Light-headed, maybe I had too much mead too quickly. Perhaps I should just *cough* sit down and *cough* *cough.* He covered his mouth with his hand as he cough and when he withdrew it form the last one he found his palm was caked in blood. He whipped around to Daphne and met her eyes with fear before collapsing to the floor frothing at the mouth.

"Harry!" she cried out. She was in crisis mode immediately, going through all the steps of how to treat a poisoned person who was chocking on bile. She put him on his side in recovery position and cleared his airway of any blockage with her fingers. "A bezoar!" she yelled behind her to Slughorn, "he needs a bezoar now!"

Slughorn didn't move, rooted to the spot, the old professor was paralysed by shock and fear. His eyes did flick thing, to a draw in a desk across the room. Daphne took a chance and rushed over to the draw, rummaging through the contents with no consideration for their condition. She had pulled nearly the whole draw apart before finding a large stone in a glass container labelled 'bezoar.' She picked it up and practically leaped from the desk to Harry's side and shoved it down his throat immediately.

With bated breath, she waited to see whether she was fast enough and whether he would stabilise. The coughing and the convulsing lessened, then lessened some more until he stopped altogether and looked as though he was fast asleep. She reached out to check his pulse but paused when she noticed her hands were shaking, afraid she wouldn't like the answer to the question on her mind. She pressed two fingers to his wrist where his veins were and light thump made her heart sore.

"Is he..?"

Daphne looked up and saw the professor slumped in his chair, beads of sweat rolling down his face and, even though Harry treated him poorly, concern written on his expression.

"He's alive," she told him. She realised her hand had moved from his wrist to hold his hand but she made no move to change that even when she took her wand out to levitate him.

"I— I— I swear I had nothing to do with this, that bottle was given to me by an old colleague to give to Dumbledore. I must have picked it up by mistake tonight," Slughorn assured her but there was no need. She had seen the label and once her mind had cleared from the immediate danger she knew exactly who was responsible.

Draco fucking Malfoy

A/N Once again another large chapter, it's as if these are becoming the norm now.

We're approaching two thirds of the story now, lots of plot lines are coming to head. We've got Dumbledore's final days, Daphne and Harry's romance and lat but not least Horcrux Harry.

I hadn't planned for Daphne to ever speak to Dumbledore but whenI got to Harry's disappearance I felt it was out of character to not have her deduce that Dumbledore may be a part of it. Dumbledore speaking plainly is always a treat, I love seeing it fanfiction because there's much more nuance to combing Dumbledore who knows what he is rather than the eccentric old man and evil malicious coot. Daphne being ride or die for Harry is a given, Harry would've done the same we know this but Dumbledore has the privilege of being the first to see Daphne devoted to something other than herself.

The astronomy tower scene also wasn't planned but I had to connect Harry's disappearance and the Slughorn event together. If you can't tell, Harry's going through a sort of split personality type crisis where if he gets too angry or too frustrated he will lose control of himself because of the horcrux. Playing with the idea that the Horcruxes are self aware, making Harry's understand that it has been discovered seemed a great way ti go considering this is the fractured soul piece of an older riddle who understands the importance of Harry. Therefore actively tries to make his life harder.

And now Slughorn's importance comes to a close he was a fun character to include but he's gotta go know, make way for the mains to shine. They know it's seven Horcruxes now, and Harry knows he's a horcrux, how will that effect the sequel? What will Harry and the gang be doing for an entire year besides roaming the countryside? Something much more interesting I can assure you.

Tune in next chapter for children's tears and a dash of hope.

Hope you all enjoyed

Haphne Discord: discord . gg/pKSdvJQvhU

Twitch: twitch . tv/revanchistvii