Chapter Twenty Five: Admissions
March 10th
9:22pm
Hogwarts, Scotland
Daphne
Seven horcruxes, not twenty liked they'd been worried about, not a thousand liked they'd dreaded, only seven. With three already accounted for, Daphne had allowed herself a measure of hope, they had suspicions for one more so it seemed like they were closing in on the Dark Lord's immortality. But, as if fate enjoyed toying with them, when one problem seems to be solved, two more rear their heads.
Draco Malfoy had attempted another assassination, and just like before, he'd gotten the wrong person caught in the crossfire. Harry had spent thirty days in the hospital wing, only having been released this very morning. She had visited him of course, when she could spare time from following Draco around and when she didn't feel too much anger at Harry's treatment of her in Slughorn's office.
That was the second problem in question, Harry's behaviour before being poisoned. Had it been anyone else, she might've wished the poisoning on them but not him. It was clear something was going on, something she wasn't in the know about.
'He has treated me and the allies around him with the utmost respect the entire time I've known him. He said he couldn't tell me what was happening but I find that highly unlikely and if he thinks I'll let him speak to me that way without, at the very least, an explanation then he will be unpleasantly surprised.'
She was on her way to the room of requirement that very moment, answering a 'summons' from Harry who still sounded weak over the mirror call. Any sympathy she had for him evaporated swiftly, she would feel sorry for him when he explained himself.
As she approached the room, she did the pacing required and pushed open the huge, ornately decorated double doors that materialised. The room was a cozy rendition of the Gryffindor common room, knowing what it looked like because she infiltrated the tower to steal his clothes. A small fireplace at the far end of the room accompanied a pair of high backed armchairs that were wrapped in comfortable maroon leather.
She could see the cane that Madam Pomfrey gave him leaning on one of the chairs and presumed he was sitting in it. She walked over and took a seat in the chair beside him and found herself silently envying the Gryffindors if it was anywhere near as comfortable as the real ones.
They sat together wordlessly for a few minutes, listening to the wood crackle in the fireplace. Occasionally Harry would cough and on the third one she stole a glance in his direction. He didn't look well, his hair had grown since he last cut it and now clung to his face because of grease or sweat. He was pale too, his skin seemed so thin that if it were any thinner it would be translucent. The worst were his eyes though, sunken like a dead man's, and entirely unfocused.
'I doubt he's even noticed me,' she thought mournfully. She harboured so much faith in him, it hurt her to see him so weak and a small part of her felt betrayed. "Harry," she prompted and the slightest flick of his eyes led her to believe he was listening. "Blaise and I have been tailing Draco, he's become increasingly erratic, soon he'll slip up and we'll catch him in the act."
"Good," he said in the faintest of a whisper, eyes having returned to their vacant stare.
"Remus and my father have been scouring the wizarding world but no one seems to know where the cup is," she informed him. Her father had travelled to the French ministry to enquire about it with some contacts but none of them knew anything, or, weren't willing to divulge it. Remus had thrown himself into the criminal underground, his status as a werewolf giving him some street cred but again no one had information they were willing to give about the cup.
"That's fine," Harry replied, "I'm sure it'll turn up somewhere."
The nonchalant answer made her feel a swell of anger in her stomach rise to her chest. 'He disregards my whole operation with Slughorn for expediency's sake but now he could care less we can't find anything? What is wrong with you Harry?'
"It'll turn up? What's gotten into you?" Daphne asked with no small amount of frustration in her tone.
"Daphne please I don't want to argue right—"
"No," she cut him off, "you are our leader, this is true, and in matters of war you don't owe anyone an explanation."
"Exactly," he agreed, his voice raising a bit and standing from his chair, "I don't owe anyone an explanation."
She crossed her arms, "I'm not just anyone, not anymore."
It was an invitation for him to refute that, to cast her aside and denounce their relationship. She knew it, but more importantly, he did as well. When she issued the challenge she half expected him to do just that with the way he'd been acting lately. But, when she saw the sliver of fear that he expressed for the briefest of moments, she knew, even if he did denounce her it wasn't because he wanted to, which is all she needed.
"I've carried on, in your name, with the horcrux hunt, with Draco and even checking in on Hermione. I've had to do several training sessions of the four by myself all the while fighting a civil war in my brain about what is going on with you."
"It's not that I don't want to tell you," he said hesitantly, "it's just that I c—"
"I don't care!" Daphne exclaimed to the surprise of both of them. "I don't care what you thinkyou need to do, for once in your bloody buggered life do what you want."
Her chest was puffing in and out from the emotional effort of her outburst, not one to allow her emotions to get the better of her; the feeling was quite foreign. 'He is my equal, if I lose him then I am alone again,' she realised. She'd never had a problem with being alone, in fact she was prepared for a life of self inflicted solitude. But, when the possibility of someone who shared her ambition, her goals, her power came along and, even better, shared her attraction, she had been unprepared when it was yanked away from her in just a week.
"Daphne," he muttered, gaining her attention. His eyes were watering, they looked like the onset of a proper cry was upon him. "I'm sorry, truly I am." He collapsed into his chair, the cane clattering to the floor uselessly as he wiped his eyes.
She couldn't help it, she cared for him and her anger was like catching smoke with your hands, impossible to maintain. She rushed over to him, crouched down in front of him and took one of his hands in her own. "Tell me what happened, we're destined for greatness, remember? We can do anything."
"I believed that you know, the second you told me that I was without doubt," he said before laughing humourlessly. "But now… well, a dead man can be forgiven for lacking ambition I think."
'Dead man? Surely he doesn't mean Voldemort,' she queried in her mind. "Voldemort won't kill you Harry, he's a rabid dog just as you said. Only thing left to do is put him down."
"Voldemort killed me a long time ago Daphne, just over fifteen years ago in fact."
"Harry, just because your parents were killed doesn't mean you have to die too. Their deaths gave you life, a life you can use to avenge them," Daphne tried. He was usually much easier to give hope to, 'perhaps the events stacked together have sent him into a depression like Hermione and Sirius. Ron then his family home then the hospital then the cave, he hasn't had a break in a while.'
"This has nothing to do with them," he said, breaking her from her musings, "well it does a little."
"Maybe you should speak plainly because I'm, admittedly, at a loss," she remarked.
"Speak plainly, I can do that," he muttered to himself before leaning forward slightly and taking her remaking hand in his own. "On October 31st 1981, Tom Riddle entered my childhood home, slew my father and mother and, with hatred in his heart, attempted to kill me with the killing curse. Whether it be by blood ritual or love, my mother saved my life and rebounded the killing curse at Tom. The curse, I imagine, lost its potency and instead of killing him outright, it shattered his remaining soul into two pieces."
'Lily Potter should be an icon to all wizards and witches around the world and she will be under my leadership after the war,' Daphne vowed before returning her attention to Harry's story.
"One half of his soul, ripped from his body and fractured, fled in the night. The other half, torn from its host and dying without a new one, latched onto the only living thing in the room."
"Wait… so you're a…" the words refused to come out, her mind refusing to accept the inevitability of defeat.
"I am part horcrux and if we want to kill the Dark Lord, I must die."
"That can't be! Since when could a body host two souls? Surely they would've fought for dominance and overtaken the weaker one," she attempted to rationalise, grasping any excuse she could. "What of the basilisk venom in your veins?"
"Perhaps, but Tom was in hiding, his magical presence low. It is not so far of a stretch to say it went unnoticed," Harry divulged, having had a month to think about the nature of his affliction. "The basilisk venom I believe has kept the horcrux weakened."
"But he has returned and you're still… you?" She trailed off, the mood swings coming to mind. One moment he is fine then the next he cares only for himself and his own designs. First seen with Umbridge, then in Scrimengour's office and now, these past months all fitting the bill of a man possessed. "Oh gods, that's what's happening right now, your souls are fighting for control."
"Indeed," Harry confirmed. "As long as I keep myself at peace, he holds no grip over me. But to even entertain the idea of anger, violence or anything of the like, awakens the infernal thing."
Daphne's mind ran a mile a minute trying to come up with solutions. "There are exorcism rituals we could perform, they're old and slightly dangerous but they could work."
"And when he is free and decides to latch onto you? Without the basilisk venom you will be overrun within a matter of minutes and then I would have two Lord Voldemort's to deal with," he explained. He had considered exorcism at the start, seriously considered it, but he kept coming back to the problem of containment.
Daphne frowned at Harry's assessment, 'unfortunately I have to agree.' Daphne stood up from her crouched position and began pacing. "What about a killing curse performed by Voldemort on you? Would your mother's protection protect the horcrux?"
"My mother's protection is irrelevant, Voldemort has my blood in his veins, if he has veins of course," Harry retorted. She had known that, at some point, but tensions were high at that very moment.
"Of course," she muttered absentmindedly, still pacing about.
"Daphne," he called out with a strength in his voice she hadn't thought to hear. "I'm going to die, please don't make that any harder than it needs to be."
"And what? Give up?" she asked incredulously, "I've only known about it for five minutes. I'll find a solution, there's always something that can be done." Her refusal to accept his fate was something she knew was more of a defence mechanism than anything, something to put off her surging grief for a little while longer.
"I haven't given up either Daphne, but I have to think like I won't be around to witness your great victory," he told her. "I've had to accept that, when the time comes, my death will give you the chance to rip the bastard to shreds."
"Me? This was meant to be our victory Harry," Daphne protested.
"I thought you'd be ecstatic, you're going to get all the glory, all the fame, I imagine you'll be made youngest minister ever when you get around to it," Harry spoke flippantly but she could hear the pain behind the lie.
'Just because I'm angry at him doesn't mean he needs to die.'
She turned fully so that she could look him in the eyes. "If you still think I care about fame and glory more than anything else then you haven't been paying attention." His eyes widened at the declaration but before he could respond she continued, "when I become the youngest minister ever, you're going to be there with me on the podium so that I can smirk triumphantly at you and you can bow your head in defeat."
She turned on her heel and left, determined to find a way to save the life of Harry Potter, whatever it took.
March 12th
4:23pm
Hogwarts, Scotland
Blaise
In a dark crevice in the halls of Hogwarts, he waited with bated breath. His mark was on a path that he planned to intercept. With orders to strictly observe unless someone was in danger, all he could do was watch as the pale blonde boy skulked right past him.
Sitting idly wasn't his objective so he stood and followed the boy through halls and courtyards before, finally, watching him enter a bathroom, alone. Blaise slinked up to the doorway and tried to listen for anything nefarious that may have been happening but only heard the sounds of whimpers and sniffles.
His brow furrowed and he frowned, the proud Draco Malfoy crying? A development of significance if there was one. He drew his own conclusions quickly, but knew immediately that there were two others who'd want to know about their resident junior death eater's breakdown.
In a controlled subtle movement, he drew a shiny piece of glass from his robe and spoke two names softly into it. The surface shimmered into a divide which two faces filled. A few hushed words later and Blaise pocketed the device and replaced its position in his hand with his wand. Suddenly the whole operation became much more real as he stalked up behind his classmate with not so innocent intentions.
March 12th
4:32pm
Hogwarts, Scotland
Harry
He walked as briskly as he could to the place Blaise had described, cursing his reliance on the map to navigate the castle these past few years. He'd of course retained much of the layout subconsciously but it was much harder to find the fastest route without a real time floor plan.
He rounded a corner and saw Daphne at the opposite end walking towards him. His knee jerk reaction was to feel happy at seeing Daphne but their conversation two days ago had left an awkward feeling between the two. Their physical relations hadn't picked up again and his insistence on her being victorious had been slowly driving a wedge between them.
Despite that, their sense of duty remained and they were still both resolute in obtaining a victory, no matter what manner of victory it was. They met half way down the corridor and turned to see a doorway labelled 'wizard's toilets.' He felt a sort of humming feeling around the door and reached out with his magic to investigate the disturbance.
'Notice me not, good thinking Blaise,' he idly thought. He turned to his right and saw Daphne's eyes in the process of opening, having felt the ward too. "Shall we?" he asked needlessly.
She nodded and strode into the bathroom with a mask of indifference on. He felt he should do the same but didn't have the energy to so he simply walked in with his resting face. 'It wouldn't help if I walked in here antagonistically, Draco would likely clamp up and we'd have nothing.'
The second he walked in his shoes splashed in a puddle of water. He briefly glanced down and found that the entire floor was pooling water from the sinks ahead of them. More interestingly though, was Draco, flat on his arse, with Blaise's wand pointed directly at his head. They were both soaked and Blaise had a cut on his arm which was leaking blood.
'It seems Draco put up a fight, good for him.'
The newcomers walked up to the dripping Slytherin boys and looked at Draco with interest. "So, Malfoy, it seems to me your new pals aren't the best employers," Harry japed. He wasn't bitter about the assassination attempt, or rather complete and utter failure considering he wasn't the target, but he wasn't going to be nice either.
All he received was a glare behind puffy, swollen eyes. Harry knew that his pride was going to be a problem and hoped Daphne had a suitable solution. "Blaise," Harry said addressing the injured boy, "perhaps you should go get that healed."
Blaise looked down at his wound as if noticing it for the first time and then at Harry quizzically. He was likely surprised by being dismissed considering the flimsy excuse of a superficial cut but he didn't question it. Not here at least, it wouldn't do for a subordinate to question their superior in front of someone they're trying to intimidate.
'You prove your worth every day my friend,' Harry thought as Blaise walked past him, handing Draco's wand over. Harry pulled out his wand and silently thought 'reparo,' and watched the sinks that were damaged in Blaise and Draco's fight, reform. Another silent spell of 'evanesco' erased all traces of the flooding. He neglected to dry Draco though, best he felt as uncomfortable as possible right now.
"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asked as menacing as he could. Unfortunately it wasn't very intimidating coming from a broken boy sitting in clothes as dry as the ocean.
"I want to know how you got so unlucky," Harry told him. Their prisoner narrowed his eyes in confusion so Harry continued, "I mean why would Voldemort tell you, of all people, to kill Albus Dumbledore."
Draco's eyes widened and he stammered out, "you- you're nutters Potter!"
"And that little project in the room of requirement, we know all about your little scheme," Daphne interjected, bluffing heavily. They, of course, knew about his activities but what they entailed was another story all together.
'A master stroke Miss Greengrass, beautifully done,' Harry thought in admiration, there was really nothing like watching her work. Draco hung his head in his hands and sobbed. It was a truly pathetic sight and Harry, very unhappily, felt a small pang of sympathy for him.
"You got Katie killed, there is no denying that," Harry started, using an enormous amount of effort to bring the horcrux rage under control. "You nearly killed me a month ago, also true. But that doesn't mean there's no turning back." His shoulders went taut and he could hear the blood pumping in his ears.
'I am Harry James Potter son of James and Lily Potter. I am Harry James Potter son of James and Lily Potter,' he chanted in his mind. This mantra had helped him stay sane copious amounts of time the past couple of days, more effective than even the meditation.
"I can't," Draco said from behind his hands, "he'll kill her."
'Her? A secret lover? There's no way he cares that much about Pug-face Parkinson."
"Kill who?" Daphne asked in a commanding tone.
Draco looked up with tear tracks down his face. "My mother," he all but whispered before returning to his previous position.
'Mother… I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that it didn't come to mind.'
"I take it she is wherever Voldemort currently resides?" he asked and received a nod from the crying Malfoy. "I also take it you can not give us this location?" Another nod from the Malfoy wasn't all that surprising, it would've been much too easy that way.
"You're cracking," Daphne told him matter of factly. "We've been watching you, never at meals, not talking to friends and a marked drop in the quality of your class work."
"She's right," Harry continued, "you never stood a chance. Any success you've had is dumb luck, we've been onto you from the start."
"So what am I meant to do?" Draco burst out. "Defect? Join your rag tag mercenary 'company' as a traitor?"
"It's better than facing the consequence of failing Voldemort," Harry answered honestly.
"Who says I'll fail?" Draco said defiantly, raising his chin slightly. His arrogance was returning in droves and with that his ignorance.
"We do, you daft worm," Daphne retorted. "You understand we have the legal right to detain, interrogate and kill you. Of course, we'll have to fake the fact that you tried to escape or something but you should know by now we have no problem doing so. Remember Umbridge?"
Daphne's words seemed to sink in immediately as she finished speaking, Draco's knowledge of Umbridge's death finally became useful but not in a way he'd ever expect, used against him. His eyes flicked to Harry and Harry did his best to look as cold as he could. Draco brought his knees to his chest and tried to make himself look smaller, a sign for Harry that it was working.
"I believe you fully understand your position then?" Harry asked.
He nodded and said, "you're not trying to help me."
"No, we're not. That doesn't mean you can't leave this situation better than you left it," Harry counselled him. A mutually beneficial agreement was what got Slytherin's off, or so he'd heard Sirius say.
"What do you want from me?" came the repeated question but with much more compliant undertones. Finally they had an informant from the death eater camp after Daphne had been stressing about it for months.
"When do you plan to enact the room of requirement plan?" Daphne asked, not giving away how little they knew.
"June 30th. I'm close to finishing the vanishing cabinet and soon I'll be able to transport living things."
'A vanishing cabinet? Now that is an unexpected development.'
"Are there anymore assassination attempts planned? We wouldn't want another innocent bystander to get murdered would we?" Harry asked in an accusatory tone, no point in letting him forget.
"None. When the death eaters enter the castle on the thirtieth I'm to ambush Dumbledore with several others and kill him."
'Merlin he likes to spill his guts. Death eaters in Hogwarts… that doesn't bode well for the muggleborn children at all, or any child not on the pureblood fanatic Santa 'nice list.'
"Naturally," Harry muttered, counting his lucky stars that they had uncovered this plot before it had time to blossom. "Why you though? If there are to be several other death eaters as you said, why have you kill Dumbledore?"
"A punishment," Malfoy admitted, "for my father's failure last year. If I fail, I die. If I don't, Dumbledore dies."
'Brilliant, truly terrible, but brilliant all the same.'
Harry cast a look at Daphne and could see the gears turning in her brain. He knew if that was the case, they weren't going to simply be rid of this plan. 'It's like the breakout all over again, but this time we have people to effect a plan and a much more defensible environment,' he realised.
"Very well Draco, continue as planned," Harry ordered him.
"What? Are you mental!" Draco tried to stand in outrage but Daphne stepped up and kicked his legs from under him. His body made a squelching sound as it connected with the tiled floor.
"Watch out, I doubt you'd want to do that again," Harry cautioned. "Daphne isn't likely to be so gentle next time."
Daphne stood over Malfoy and said in a harsh voice, "if you suddenly stop the plan, your mother dies you buffoon. Instead, you follow our plan and, in the chaos that follows attempt a rescue of dear mummy Malfoy."
Draco seemed to like that idea very much as his eyes clouded over from his place on the floor. Harry felt that all that could be done currently had been achieved. So, dropping Malfoy's wand at the blonde's feet, he made to leave the bathroom, cane clacking as he walked.
He hesitated at the door though and called out in a tone that suggested it was an afterthought, "oh and Draco, if you betray us, no one will find your body, or rather, no one you love will be left to look for it."
He limped his way out with Daphne behind him. Just as before, no matter their awkwardness, they had a job to do and with the gift that had just dropped in their lap, a major victory was on the horizon.
A/N: Sup peeps, I'm happy to say that fanfiction . nets servers are working again. For about a week and a half creators couldn't see traffic on their stories. So if you're a creator and have been having the same problem then go check out your stories and hopefully you're able to see traffic again.
So, the title is very fitting today; admissions. Harry admits he's a horcrux, Daphne admits to being afraid of loneliness, Draco admits to being a pathetic child and Dark Lord Dobby admits to a horrendous sleep schedule.
So horcrux Harry had been outed. Daphne goes through denial, anger and bargaining, three out of five stages of grief. I feel like she's gonna have a problem with depression and acceptance, she's not really the one to give up.
Now Harry, he's the one I have the most interest in writing because he's what you'd call a bit of a hypocrite. For the entire series, he's resented Dumbledore for inflicting his own designs on him and now he's given up on himself (like Dumbledore) and is attempting to shape Daphne's path from beyond the grave. As young people, we form pretty solid opinions on things (I'm 19 so know it's coming from experience) and then through time and experience those opinions are eroded away. This is something Harry's going to grapple with throughout the whole series.
Draco, Draco, Draco. You want to know a little secret - this was going to turn into a background Dramione fic at one stage. Well that is 100% scrapped, I don't even like Dramione so idk why I thought to do that. One thing we do know is that Narcissa loves Draco and vice versa and Harry and Daphne are all too happy to exploit that.
How will I make the last act tense now that the gang know what's going to happen? Wouldn't you like to know.
Next chapter we've got some more made up magic mechanics that I barely understand myself and Robert Pattinson (3 points to Slytherin if you can guess what I'm talking about).
Hope you all enjoyed :)
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