I do not own Harry Potter or gain anything from writing this other than the opportunity of expanding on an already brilliant universe for my own entertainment, and hopefully yours.

Building Courage

The confrontation was probably inevitable. Not that Daphne was avoiding it, quite the contrary actually, she was the one that forced it to happen when it did. Though she had hoped the word "confrontation" would not apply. A fool's hope, evidently. The glare being aimed at her was very confrontational. Not that it was at all fair. From Daphne's perspective, there was positively no reason for it. Infact, Daphne had far more reason to glare, but she would not debase herself to the point of getting catty and growing claws aimed at a good friend for something as frivolous as a boy. Even if she did happen to fancy this boy very much, as did the owner of the glare.

It wasn't the first time Ginny Weasley had glared at her this year, nor was it the first time for her to glare wrongly. Daphne had no idea what's been going on lately between Harry and Ginny, but Daphne was privy to the fact that they both fancied each other. And Daphne wasn't on the receiving end of anyone's fancy – other than boys who seemed to want a piece of her sudden unwanted spotlight. But those boys were beneath even the word frivolous.

Daphne met the icy glare with a dry look. Not just glares, she's been on the receiving end of the cattiness of girls before too, from friends to acquaintances to strangers, and she wasn't about to let this look get to her. It was getting to others who were passing by though. Any who passed them in the corridor grew quiet and quickened their steps to get away from an impending explosion. It was curious. This kind of confrontation used to draw attention, everyone was always eager to see the latest drama. Drama from these two students in particular must be especially curious, considering the rumours being spread by the evil Daily Prophet. Perhaps habits to turn and run at the first sign of danger would remain from the hellish year that just passed. For a little while at least.

'Out with it,' Daphne said curtly. She would spare no time for Ginny's sulking. The girl wasn't a crier, she pushed all her negative emotions into a furnace in her gut that burned with anger. Daphne was surprised she couldn't see the smoke coming out of the red-haired girl's ears. Her face certainly looked appropriately hot.

'As if you don't know,' Ginny gritted out once a few students hurried by. Classes were about to begin so the flow was lessening, but tardiness wasn't punished as harshly lately as it was earlier in the year, so Daphne was willing to take the hit. 'What's going on with you and Harry?'

'Absolutely nothing.' It wasn't the complete truth. They haven't spoken much since the day the golden cup was destroyed, but they have had a few conversations. Harry was laser focused on figuring out a way to get the crown from the secret room, and he'd need her unicorn horn when he made his move. That he would be making a move himself wasn't a surprise, but perhaps it should've been. There were many people he could go to for help; the Ministry for instance, or even the teachers, but he was taking it on himself. No one else alive knew about the Horcruxes but he, Ron, Hermione and Daphne. And he intended to keep it that way.

'That's not what the Prophet says,' Ginny muttered petulantly.

Daphne groaned. 'Ginny. I'm not … Harry's secret wife – nor am I his "true passion" the entire time we've been at school. And I have not been snogging him on the Astronomy tower all night every night since he saved me.' She could feel her face heat more at each claim, but her voice stayed calm and cool. 'You know none of it is true.'

'Well …' Ginny was putting some effort into keeping her anger. 'There might be some bits of truth in there or something. Why were you allowed into this secret meeting thing with him, Hermione and Ron and I wasn't? Hmm? Why won't he tell me what's going on but he's apparently telling you everything?'

'He said it's because I saved him.' Not that she believed that, it was mostly because of the unicorn horn, though he has certainly been more shareful than he needs to be. It was just as much mystery to her. She had a feeling Harry didn't really know why either. Why Daphne was suddenly included with information previously reserved for a certain infamous trio. 'Why are you asking me that anyway? Ask him. Nothing is going on between us!' She added the last in a growl of frustration to the stubborn glare.

'I did ask him. He … evaded. Then he blew me off when I …' She trailed off, an instant of insecurity flashing across her face. 'He said things aren't finished yet – but it's been weeks since the wraith hid inside the Room of Requirement. Hermione's not focused on it anymore, she's cramming and stressing about whether she should do her NEWTs this year or come back for the full thing next year. Even Ron is studying. But Harry …'

She sighed. A heavy, sad sigh. Her glare had faded to a look of sadness as she spoke, and now she looked on the brink of tears. But Daphne's never seen Ginny cry. And the girl wasn't about to start now.

Of course, she wasn't exactly being fair to Harry. It wasn't done yet, and just because everyone else seems to be content with their nervous peace, he wouldn't be until it was over. Daphne felt the same now that she was part of it – in her own way. She wanted it done for good too. The unicorn horn within her brooch has never felt heavier. It will be a relief when that burden can be relieved. For her, and for Harry, and for everyone else. Surely at least Ron and Hermione felt it too, even if they were distracted by real life for the time being.

'Just give him time to do what he has to do, Ginny. Then he'll be all yours, I'm sure.' Daphne was going for kind and reassuring, but instead landed on bitter and impatient. She was just glad she bit her tongue on the comment about Neville floating around in her head. Ginny was her friend, and Daphne would not get catty. No matter how much her claws might itch.

'I'll have to take your word for it,' Ginny replied, her words also bitter. 'We should go to class.' Without another word she turned and stomped off. The glare even made a reappearance when she glanced back over her shoulder.

'Why don't you just go snog Neville a bit, maybe that'll get Harry's attention.' Daphne was sure her whisper was quiet enough for her own ears only. On top of that, she waited until Ginny was around the corner.

She was hoping for some kind of resolution from talking with Ginny, but the redhead seemed determined to keep this icy attitude up. She must have noticed – she wouldn't be the only one who noticed. More than one person has commented about how she – as Seamus Finnegan put it: "Can't stop making cow eyes at Harry." Which has been more than a little embarrassing. Susan Bones came up to her after dinner one night for some "girl talk" so she could complain with Daphne about how oblivious Harry always is when noticing a girl that likes him. Daphne managed to be composed enough to deny Susan's observations, which Susan didn't look like she believed at all when she went back to the Hufflepuff common room. Tracey didn't buy it either – she tagged along for the conversation, worried that the friendly Hufflepuff was up to some nefarious scheme.

According to Susan, there are many girls in school who have a thing for the Chosen One. Some for the vainglorious reasons, and some who genuinely fancy him, if not for who he is, than for what he's done. The reason so many have singled Daphne out as one of those people is because of those articles in the Prophet – not to forget published works such as Witch Weekly; Harry and Daphne are the top power couple of the wizarding world, if their lies were to be believed. She's done a terrible job of proving those stories false, apparently. The problem being, she did fancy him, very much so. This may have been less of a problem if he fancied her back, but he very obviously did not. He only spoke to her because he needs her. Once this was done, they could very well go back to being strangers. Hopefully they could at least stay friends, but as Susan said, Harry only has two close friends. She may have to settle for an acquaintance.

Not that the worry of him paying less attention to her was enough to make her want to delay destroying the final Horcrux. He deserved to be free. Even if it meant being free of her too.

The scolding from Professor McGonagall Daphne received when she arrived late for class (as well as the loss of points for her house) was kind of nice, in a nostalgic sort of way, and made the collective class chuckle. The Headmistress didn't deign to change the current state of the house points when she was appointed to the position, so unless Slytherin lost about a thousand points before the end of the year, the house cup was in the bag. Not that anyone cared, it was unanimously agreed that the whole competition was a wash for the year.

Daphne hardly paid attention during the lesson, only vaguely registering that the time missed at school for Hermione didn't dull her ability to raise her hand and answer questions correctly a wit. Her mind was occupied elsewhere. She's put a great deal of thought into what she would do about her infatuation with Harry Potter; and she's settled on doing nothing at all. It wasn't because she didn't want to, or even that she felt it would ruin her friendship with Ginny (even though it might do just that), it was because she simply didn't know how.

Even though Daphne never held much interest in boys in the past she still indulged in reading the odd romance novel or two (often courtesy of Tracey), and the concept of fighting for her heart's desire sounded just fine on paper; it was the execution that bothered her. Even if she did fancy him, he did not return it, so it felt pointless to go through the embarrassment of trying with methods that always seemed too far-fetched in her imagination. Ginny had his heart. And, apparently, he still had hers. Whether the fiery redhead still held the flame she did for Neville anymore seems to be a moot point. It appears she made her choice, and her choice was Harry. And Ginny was already in the mindset of fighting for her heart's desire, honing in on Daphne as her main competition just because of some ridiculous rumours.

Daphne just hoped the school year could end before Harry and Ginny got back together, because she didn't think it would be very enjoyable to watch them holding hands through the corridors and potentially catching them in a snog. Even the thought made her heart thrum uncomfortably. Once away from school, she could get over him in peace while she put her all into becoming a Healer, and maybe manage to even salvage her friendship with Ginny once the fondness fled. And hopefully her friendship with Harry too.

'Knut for your thoughts?'

Daphne came out of her trance to meet the eye of Professor McGonagall. An apology for not paying attention was bubbling to her lips when she realised they were the only ones in the classroom. It must have ended some time ago. She decided the apology was necessary anyway, but McGonagall didn't seem to need it.

'I've been meaning to speak to you in private, as it happens,' the Headmistress said.

'Oh? Oh! Is this about the Invisibility Cloak?' Daphne hastily reached into her school bag to pull out the folded enchanted cloak. 'Sorry, Professor, I've been meaning to return it.'

McGonagall pushed her hands and the Cloak away. 'It's yours to keep, Greengrass, you've certainly earned it. No, I wanted to speak to you about your future. I don't think I need to tell you that due to recent events, you will have little problem gaining employment in your desired field.'

Daphne blinked owlishly. 'I won't?' she asked stupidly.

The Headmistress actually laughed at that. 'I believe people will be bending over backwards to employ the "Shadow Healer".' Daphne grimaced at the nickname but McGonagall kept on. 'I happen to be the first to put my hat in the ring. Madam Pomfrey has requested an apprentice for next year. As long as it's you.'

Daphne resumed her owly blinking. A job offer. She could vaguely remember her father saying how quick life could move after Hogwarts. She wasn't even finished yet – hadn't even finished her NEWTs yet, and she was already receiving an offer. And if Professor McGonagall could be believed, it wouldn't be the last.

'I see I've given you much more to think about,' McGonagall said with an understanding smile.

'Er, y-yes, I suppose you have,' Daphne managed. 'I don't suppose it's alright if I …'

'Take some time to think it over? I wouldn't expect anything less. It won't be an easy decision for you, I'm afraid, but it's not the worst problem to have either. You've done well this year, Daphne. Incredibly so. I cannot tell you how proud I am of the witch you have already become – and I daresay I know you are far from finished showing us all what you can do.'

It was impossible to stop the tears that squeezed out. To receive such glowing praise from someone she looked up to was incredibly emotional. To be acknowledged. It wasn't the false acknowledgement that she's become all too familiar with lately, from people looking to gain something from her, it was acknowledgement from a mentor. At some point the emotions led to a hug. With the Headmistress! And it took some time for her to calm her emotional heart.

'Now,' McGonagall said when Daphne was coherent once more, 'tell me what's on your mind that you couldn't pay attention to a word I said in class.'

'Harry Potter,' she said without thinking. Surely her face turned a rather dark red.

'Indeed.' The arched eyebrow on the Headmistress' face was far too knowing for Daphne's liking, but then her face turned contemplative. 'He has been on my mind a great deal lately too. He came to speak to me last night, you know. Made perhaps the most incredulous requests I have ever heard, and I found myself acquiescing, even though he would not tell me the why of any of it.'

After fighting off the blush from her unfiltered mouth, Daphne found herself intensely curious about what McGonagall was saying. Harry hasn't mentioned to her any kind of request for McGonagall, but the secrecy made her think it had something to do with the final Horcrux.

'What did he ask of you?' Daphne queried.

'I thought perhaps you might already know.' McGonagall's gaze was sharp and piercing, as if trying to read the truth of things on her face rather than trust her words.

'I don't. Honestly,' Daphne said quickly.

McGonagall held her gaze for a moment more before it softened, nodding in acceptance. 'He became rather defensive when I claimed he was becoming as secretive as Dumbledore. I wish I hadn't said it, I believe it bothered him a great deal. Perhaps it was not a fair claim regardless, these secrets he carries so protectively are inherited from Dumbledore. I don't know even half of it, but it was Dumbledore who laid this burden on Harry's shoulders. It was he who told Harry to tell no one but his two closest companions.'

And me, Daphne thought nervously. The more she learned about these secrets the heavier they became. No wonder Hermione and Ron seemed so surprised at how much Harry told her. Dumbledore was the one who figured it all out, and he's the one who handed the job to Harry. And Daphne was privy to Dumbledore's secrets – secrets not even McGonagall knew – all because Harry trusted her. Merlin.

Everything that year has been getting progressively more grandiose. And suddenly Daphne was a part of something larger than anything she could have imagined before this. So much for keeping her head down.

'Think about my offer, Daphne,' McGonagall said once more. 'It'll only be temporary, and mainly for your education, but the position of Matron of Hogwarts has always been a coveted one for Healers. The opportunity won't hurt your future aspirations.'

'I – I will,' Daphne said distractedly.

More for her to think about. And her mind was already sufficiently occupied. Career opportunities took a backseat though, even being praised by Professor McGonagall wasn't her main takeaway from the conversation, nor the way McGonagall was treating her more as a peer than as a student.

Her thoughts were filled with him. As they so often were of late. Currently the question was; what kind of request, or requests, did he make of McGonagall? Something incredulous, that she agreed to regardless. That's what occupied her mind as she entered the Hospital Wing for her usual shift. It took until she was at the door to the back room for her to realise two sets of eyes were staring at her. The fact that one of those sets of eyes was emerald green only increased her surprise.

'Well?' Madam Pomfrey asked, looking at her expectantly.

'What?' Daphne replied, caught for a moment staring at Harry.

Pomfrey muttered something under her breath that Daphne didn't hear. The three of them were the only ones in the hospital wing at the moment. The amount of sick and injured students to be admitted declined vastly once the Death Eaters were tossed into Azkaban and the ones injured from the battle recovered. It made Daphne's time in the hospital wing more janitorial, or else just time spent learning things of a more theoretical nature from Madam Pomfrey. Like being tutored one on one.

'Potter's come to ask about the medical effects of the wraith of You-Know-Who,' Pomfrey explained with an air of having to repeat herself. 'I told him my own findings from a medical perspective, but you spent a good deal more time with him than I did. What did you observe?'

Daphne kept her eyes firmly on Madam Pomfrey as she answered. 'Medically there wasn't much wrong with him, other than perhaps exhaustion.' Pomfrey nodded along. 'It could have been a mental disturbance that caused him to be incapasitated for so long, but I have a feeling it was something more spiritual.'

'Due to the nature of the wraith,' Pomfrey agreed. 'Yes, though I do confess I know nothing on matters of soul magic – or how a wraith comes to be in the first place – or even how to measure such a disturbance.'

'As soon as he woke up his body was in close to normal physical condition.' She did glance at him briefly then, unable to hold back a small smile in response to his own curved lips.

'I wasn't aware you were present when he woke,' Pomfrey observed with an arched eyebrow.

'Oh – well – I happened to catch him before I left for the night and …' Thankfully Madam Pomfrey didn't pry further. Else she might get scolded for allowing a patient to wander the castle after waking from a six day coma, no matter her findings medically.

'I'm … not sure how much you know about this, Madam Pomfrey,' Harry piped in hesitantly, 'but when Professor Quirrell was teaching here, did you ever examine him or anything?'

Madam Pomfrey's lips tightened, her brow furrowed. Her eyes searched Harry's face as if looking for some hidden meaning behind his words. Daphne knew a little about what Harry was getting at. Apparently the same thing happened to him at the end of first year. At the time no one in the school knew what happened to him other than the fact he was unconscious in the hospital wing and couldn't play the final Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Slytherin won the Quidditch cup that year because of it. What Professor Quirrell had to do with it though, no one knew. Only that he disappeared at the same time and a vague story in the Prophet came out about him trying to steal from the school, and Dumbledore being even more vague when he said the Professor was forced to resign.

'Albus kept his secrets on those events,' Pomfrey eventually said.

' 'Course he did,' Harry muttered.

The temperature in the room seemed to get a little colder from the bitter scowl on his face. Daphne's seen him angry before, plenty of times. She's seen him take his anger out on Draco Malfoy's face on the Quidditch pitch. She's never been one of only a few people in a room with him when he's been angry before though. His anger was something that was spoken of in hushed voices in her dorm room over the years. Even Pansy would usually hold back from antagonising him if he looked to be in "one of his moods" as she called them. His anger made them all nervous, afraid that he'd take it out on them. At the moment, his anger didn't make her nervous at all.

The silence dragged on, Daphne and Madam Pomfrey meeting eyes when Harry didn't say anything else. Through their silent communication, Madam Pomfrey went to the back room, nodding as if it were by Daphne's request that she went. Which wasn't at all what she was trying to communicate silently, she was hoping her mentor would help quell the awkwardness. With a lack of higher authority around, it was left in her hands.

'What about Dumbledore has got you all pissy?'

Apparently not the right thing to say. He turned a glare on her. The first time he ever glared at her, actually. It was weird that it made her heart race.

'Tell me,' she said more gently, sitting down on a bed and patting the spot next to her.

He held the glare but it held no heat whatsoever. When she patted the bed more insistently he huffed out a breath and acquiesced.

'It's a long story,' he mumbled.

The hospital wing was theirs. No one else was coming. The only patient there was Harry, with an ailing case of something heavy on his mind. She found she could relate.

'I've got time.' She made herself more comfortable to accentuate her point, propping up a pillow against the headboard and sitting back, the bed squeaking annoyingly until she settled.

He stayed where he was, but he did barely turn his head to watch her. She found herself wondering if he was about to tell her another secret he's never told anyone else. She hoped so. There is no safer place for them than with her.

'Dumbledore's plan all along was for me to die.'

The pillow she was sitting against fell onto the bed, she was suddenly sitting beside him, leaning forward to see his face.

'What?' she blurted.

He let out his breath in a huff, avoiding looking at her.

'I talked to him,' he said quietly. 'At first I didn't really think …' He trailed off, shrugging uncomfortably.

'You talked to him?' she asked. 'When you were … hit with the Killing Curse you mean?'

'No, after. His portrait. I was wondering if he might be able to help deal with the wraith. But instead he started confessing things to me. About his plans, I guess. He was the one who asked Snape to kill him. Remember his blackened hand? Well it was gonna kill him anyway, and he got Snape to do it to protect Malfoy. Snape was supposed to be the one to tell me about my scar, that the only way to get rid of it was for me to die.'

'Snape?' Daphne questioned, flustered by the overload of information, then quickly added. 'Later. You told me about your scar already. I thought it was gone now.'

'It is,' he admitted, shifting on the bed. 'But he didn't know I would survive. He thought the Killing Curse would kill me this time. And he still wants me to …'

'Whatever it was,' Daphne said carefully, 'it doesn't matter anymore, does it? Dumbledore is gone, Harry, and you're alive where some people thought you wouldn't survive. Isn't that kinda your thing?'

He looked like he didn't want to let his lips curve upward, but they did anyway. His sigh seemed to let all the air out of him, forcing him to lie down on the bed and stare up at the hospital wing ceiling. The sigh didn't succeed in getting rid of all that was heavy on his mind, but it dissolved his anger at least. When his eyes landed on Daphne's brooch, she at first mistook his eyeline and thought he was checking out her chest. Somehow that didn't bother her, but that they were both on a bed was a fact that slipped into the forefront of her mind.

They didn't talk much about all the rumours that were in the Daily Prophet, just made quick comments that the paper was written by lying scum. What did he think of those false stories though? Of the ones about her and him? Some of the tamer ones could easily become reality, if she only just leaned down and let her lips touch a boy's lips for the first time in her life. And how would he react to that? Daphne's sure the rejection would be devastating, and then how would she be able to face him after that? And why would he want to face her?

'I'm doing it after the term is done,' he said quietly.

Daphne's glazed eyes cleared, but even after she replayed what he said in her head, she didn't quite understand it.

'Doing what?' she asked hesitantly.

'I'm getting the Horcrux.' He looked away from the brooch, finding the ceiling once more. 'I don't want to do it with the school full of people. McGonagall told me she'd evacuate everyone for me. Everyone. I'm going to do it alone.'

'What?' It sounded like Gryffindor foolhardiness to her. She could do nothing but disapprove. 'Why alone? I thought Hermione and Ron were going to help you at least.' She pulled the unicorn horn out from her brooch. 'And don't forget you can't do this without me.'

He didn't stop staring at nothing on the ceiling, didn't even glance at the unicorn horn.

'I want you to go home,' he said quietly, barely above a whisper. 'I just need the Horcrux, the diadem. When I have it, I'll come find you. We were managing to avoid the wraith on foot for a while. It won't be able to catch me on a broom.'

'And what if it does?!' She couldn't help getting angry with him, he was putting everything on himself where he didn't need to. There were people that could help him. She could help him. If he got hurt and she wasn't there – 'I need to be there. To heal you if you need it. And I'm the one who saw it! How are you going to find it while you're running away from that thing?'

'I'll find it,' he said simply. Then more quietly. 'I'll find it.'

The bed springs squeaked annoyingly when she lay down beside him. She tried to find the thing he was looking at on the ceiling, and was not surprised when she found nothing.

'Why does it have to be you?' She whispered. 'Dumbledore's dead. He can't force you to do anything, you don't have to do this for anyone.' She turned on her side, putting a hesitant hand on his arm.

He turned to her too, and his eyes looked like emerald flame, burning, raging, an anger more intense and more powerful than anything she's ever seen. As if with his rage, he could consume the world, even her. Yet it did not make her feel fearful, or even hesitant, it drew her closer to him, like a moth to a flame. She knew this man would never burn her though. That anger wasn't aimed at her, though somehow she knew it was for her. Just as it was for everyone else that Harry cared about, everyone the Dark Lord Voldemort has harmed or tried to harm over the years. Daphne was only just getting to know Harry, but she recognized his hate for what it was. He wouldn't rest until the target of his hate was destroyed, even at great risk to himself.

'I won't let him hurt anyone ever again.' His voice was a whisper, but the conviction was louder than his words.

Without being consciously aware of what she was doing, she was being drawn to that flame. Somehow she had gotten closer to him, close enough that her forehead was touching his. She could feel his breath on her face, hot and heavy, and still full of that inferno of anger. His hand was suddenly on her face, wiping the tears that had fallen across her cheek. Her eyes flickered closed at the feel of his warm palm on her cheek.

Then his breath was gone, the bed springs squealed and the weight of him beside her vanished. Her eyes snapped open to see his back to her, standing at the end of the bed. For a moment she was worried he was mad at her for getting so close to him, but all he said was, 'I won't let him hurt you, Daphne. No matter what.' Then he left the hospital wing, leaving her breathless and sad and happy all at once.

She did not get changed for her shift at the hospital wing. She also left, walking slowly down to the Slytherin common room. Tracey was there, waiting for her, but Daphne claimed she was tired, and wanted to go to bed. Something in Daphne's voice must have made Tracey concerned, but she simply nodded and let her do what she said.

Her dorm room was empty, the sun wouldn't have even set yet, not that Daphne could make it out from the porthole window that looked under the Great Lake, and dinner was still taking place in the Great Hall. Instead of going to bed, she pulled out a quill and parchment and wrote a short note. If what she was planning to do went wrong, it was important someone knew what she had attempted. She left the note on Tracey's pillow, folded neatly, then pulled her Invisibility Cloak over herself.

No one noticed her slip through the common room and out into the corridors. At the beginning of the year she had made a decision, a rather simple decision at the time. She needed to keep her head down, not attract unwanted attention, and get through her final year at Hogwarts none the worse for wear. It changed, slowly, gradually, as the year progressed. The flame of anger in Harry's eyes had her thinking of her own passion. Neville, Ginny and Luna were the first to light the spark that gave her that desire to do something more significant than duck her head and hide. To help, to heal, that was her purpose. First from the safety of the hospital wing, then taking the massive leap to joining the rebellious forces of the DA. Going behind the backs of those she was meant to avoid notice, even lying to her family about the dangerous cause she decided to support.

Rebelion. She has never been a rebellious child, if you asked her parents they would say she is well behaved and polite and never one to ruffle any feathers. You could go so far as to say she's been keeping her head down her entire life. But finally she'd found good reason to hold her head high and push back against an oppressive authority. From the shadows at least. From beneath her Invisibility Cloak. Away from prying eyes.

It evolved even beyond that though. She was prepared to fight if that's what it came down to. If not wand to wand against the enemy, at least by her friends side to help them if they get hurt. It never got to that point though, things went far beyond that point. It escalated past where she had a semblance of control so suddenly that she felt regret for ever pulling her head out of the sand. With the way things worked out though, she had no more regrets. And she did not want to have any regrets.

That was why her feet took her through the corridors of Hogwarts, slowly though they travelled. Even with her conviction, her steps were heavy, loud to her own ears in the quiet, and anyone she passed would look around for any sign of the source. She was afraid. Afraid of how far she's gone. But as the flames of hate and conviction roared in Harry's eyes, there was a fire just as intense within her. It had been building steadily as the year went on, but now it was so hot it threatened to consume her.

Why was it his duty to protect everyone? Why couldn't someone keep him safe for a change? She couldn't allow him to take it all on his shoulders anymore, because she worried the weight would crush him to the point that not even her healing could help him. She had the power to free him from that weight, once and for all.

As the door formed in front of her, she pulled the Unicorn Horn from her brooch, holding it close to her chest, ready to do the job she needed it for.

'I won't let him hurt you ever again, Harry.' If anyone were near enough to hear her voice they would be able to hear the fire that burned within her come out at her words. If anyone were able to see her icy-blue eyes they would see that cold fire that burned. Luna and Harry had called her the bravest Slytherin they'd ever known. It was time for her to prove those words were true.

From beneath her Invisibility Cloak, Daphne stepped inside the secret room.

To face the Dark Lord Voldemort.

At the same moment, in another place in the castle, a man sprinted across the empty corridors, his feet slamming hard in echoing steps that screamed of his desperate haste. His lungs already burned from the reckless dash, not that he noticed, all his energy, all his purpose, was aimed at reaching the place where her name just disappeared off an old piece of parchment. Without realising exactly why, he'd found himself finding that named dot often. It brought a litany of emotions with it, that dot did, or rather the person it represented. Fondness, kinship, longing, joy, and guilt. Guilt for the other dot he found himself avoiding. His eyes knew where his heart wanted to look, and it was his heart they appeared to obey.

The speed of his feet were lacking in his haste, so the summoned broom was mounted. The dash became more reckless, and more dangerous, but he's always been a good flyer. If the corridors were any narrower, he may not have navigated those sharp turns successfully, but he wouldn't let himself fail. He couldn't fail. For her.

The emotions in his mind had changed as he made note of the dots' intended destination. They became more panicked when the dot began walking back and forth along the wall. When it disappeared, he wasn't sure he'd ever felt more afraid in his entire life.