Chapter Twenty: December 1984 Pt. II
December 25th, 1984 | Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and Harry was completely prepared. He hadn't found a date and hadn't intended to. It wasn't necessary to have a date, and it wasn't in the contract. So Harry entered the Great Hall alongside Cedric, Viktor, Fleur, and their dates. Cedric had taken Cho again. Fleur had taken Roger Davis. But Viktor hadn't taken Hermione to the ball this time. He went with a girl from Beauxbatons instead. And Hermione...she didn't have a date. From what Harry had gathered, events transpired similarly to his own universe. Ron had asked her too late, and in such a way that Hermione refused. Even without her own date, she refused to go with Ron, and so she went alone to the Ball.
Harry took a seat at the Champions table once more. His eyes fell on the crowd of students, and he was taken back to ten days earlier. His mind began to wander as he ate his food. He ignored the chatter around him, thinking about the Veil of Death. Harry had visited it eight times in the past ten days, studying it closer than anyone ever had. Minister Scrimgeour was beginning to ask questions and was definitely beginning to suspect that Harry had a not-so-subtle obsession with the Veil. It was becoming the talk of the Ministry of Magic. And many were beginning to worry. Many said he was getting too close. That he might accidentally or purposely touch the silver substance within. Some even thought he was suicidal.
But Harry knew exactly what he was looking for. And he had found it. He had succeeded. It had been hidden so well and so subtly that Harry was certain no one had noticed. But Harry noticed. He saw the Veil in his 'Soul-Sight'. He witnessed the pitch-black connections running through the Veil, the same pitch-black within the Elder Wand's core and around the Cloak of Invisibility. Harry had been correct. The Peverell's had ripped a chunk right out of the Veil and had used that chunk to create the three Deathly Hallows.
The magical stone ripped out of the Veil had been cut into three different sized pieces. One long piece, a small cubed piece, and the rest were set aside. The long piece had been cut into the shape of a wand, which was then made weightless. Antioch Peverell had wrapped the weightless stone in Elder Wood. And had then placed a Thestral Tail Hair within it. The smaller cube had been shaved down into the Resurrection Stone. And the stone that remained was turned into a thin fiber through magic, which was then threaded into the silky-smooth Cloak of Invisibility. All three Deathly Hallows had been constructed out of the Veil of Death. But it only made him ask more questions.
What made the stone so special? Was it connected directly to Death itself? Or was the magic tethered into the universal transportation usable? How could that magic be exploited? And if Harry found a way to use that magic, what could he possibly do with it? Could he use it to make some kind of device? One which would allow him to travel throughout space-time? If he could figure that out, things would be much simpler. So Harry would set out. He would do exactly what the Peverell's did. He would extract a fragment straight from the Veil. He would experiment. Test. He would do everything in his power to find a way to use its magic to the benefit of the world.
"Mr. Potter. I'm afraid you need a partner to participate in the dance," Professor McGonagall spoke.
"Right," Harry's eyes traveled into the crowd in front of him. Hermione was nowhere in sight. Neither was anyone else he knew personally. But he was forced to step down onto the dance-floor, and seek out the first name that came to mind. And he immediately hated himself. His eyes fell on a blonde girl in the crowd, who was standing beside her friends. Her name slipped from his tongue. "Daphne Greengrass," Before he knew what he was doing, he extended his hand to the girl. She visibly froze, peering towards her friends, who were all giving her mixed signals. Some nodded while others shook their heads. After a moment, she stepped forward and grabbed his hand.
Harry pulled her into a dance, gripping her hand and waist as the two moved along with the song. "Lovely night, isn't it?" He asked. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. He was examining her. Daphne's eyes were a light blue color that bordered on silver. And her blonde hair had been dyed silver with purple highlights, the purple matching her purple dress, which did her figure a lot of justice. Nope. Don't go there. Harry thought to himself as the two continued to dance.
"Yeah. I've been having a lot of fun," Daphne replied.
"That's good,"
"So. Is there a reason you picked me out of a random crowd?"
"I thought you were quite beautiful. I like your dress," Harry wanted to smack himself. But he had gone too far. Daphne was beginning to blush and had turned her face to peer down into his chest. It wasn't like she would embarrass herself by blushing towards the crowd. Harry smiled, looking up to avoid further embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I don't talk to people often," He spoke. And it was true. He only talked to The Party, Hopper, Joyce, the older teenagers at Hawkins, his team at Hawkins Lab, and Professor Dumbledore. Harry never talked to people he didn't know or wasn't comfortable with. It made things a lot easier for him that way.
"No, it's ok. I figured you haven't met a lot of girls. You were in hiding...weren't you?" Daphne asked.
"A supposed rumor flying around the school, that I was hiding with the no-maj. Or with tutors. But the truth is, I was left in America alongside a family named the Barrows. They died after taking me in, and I was left to fend for myself. I lived on the streets in Indiana until I was eleven. I was told of my lineage and given access to the Potter Trust. From then on I've been learning everything I can," Harry explained. It was all part of the cover story Harry and Hopper had created for instances like this.
"Well...that proves my point that you're not around girls much," Daphne pointed out.
Harry smiled. "Right. Exactly," The dance ended, and Harry escorted Daphne back to her friends. They exchanged goodbyes, and Harry left the Great Hall to get some fresh air. He stepped out into the Middle Courtyard, where he looked up to examine the Astronomy Tower. It was standing tall as if nothing had knocked it down a month before. Harry examined it for a long time before something pulled his gaze off of it. A small noise. Almost like a cough. He was drawn off to the side, where he spotted her. Hermione Granger was sitting on a bench covered in snow. Her eyes were on him. It was obvious that she had caused the noise. She spoke, nervous. "Are you ok?"
"Of course. You?"
"Yeah. Do you want to sit?" Harry smiled, clearing the snow off of the seat beside her for himself with the wave of a hand. He took a seat and joined her in gazing up at the stars. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" He asked. Harry was amazed by the stars that could be viewed at Hogwarts. It used to be a pastime of his the last time around. He would go up to the Astronomy Tower or sit on the front lawns, merely staring at the sky. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch them. To grab hold of them and never let go. He grabbed Hermione's hands in his, partially startling her as he motioned up towards the sky. "See those stars there?"
"Yeah? It's the Centaurus Constellation," Hermione supplied.
"Yes. And that brightest one?"
"Proxima Centauri. The closest solar system to our own,"
"Exactly. I plan to reach it one day," Harry spoke.
"You plan to go there? It would take thousands of years," Hermione argued.
"Normally, yes. But not for me. I'm magical remember?" Harry asked.
Hermione frowned. And then it hit her. "That's why you're working with the No-Maj. You're trying to explore space,"
"Not just explore it. Conquer it. I want the human race to stretch throughout the entire universe. So far out that no one conflict could destroy us. Our species - magic or not - isn't going to die. Either by aliens or nuclear warfare. Not as long as I live," Harry explained. "I've made it my mission to die only as soon as my work is complete. I won't rest until we're out there. I won't take my final breath until I've touched Proxima Centauri. Not until we've colonized as far as the eye can see it,"
Hermione giggled. "You'll live for a long time,"
"I don't want to live forever, Hermione. I want to die. I want to rest. But I can't until my purpose here is finished. Until I've done what I needed to cure the plague of not only my own but of all that exists. The world is a terrible place right now, Hermione. Voldemort lurks in the shadows. Tyrannical Dark Lords and national superpowers are cropping up from nowhere. The world is crumbling into pieces, and if I don't save it then no one else will. I need to be ready for when Voldemort comes back. I need to be ready for when everything comes back,"
"You sound like he's already back," Hermione spoke.
"He is back. He never left Hermione. The Philosopher's Stone. The Basilisk. The Dementors. And now this tournament. It was all him, clinging to strings in the shadows. He's manipulating everything in front of your eyes, and you can't see it. But I can. I can see the magic that flows through Hogwarts. The bright colors that fill its corridors. Cut beyond those bright colors are black stains. Stains that can never be removed. Stains placed there by people far more powerful than myself or Dumbledore,"
"No one can be more powerful than you, Harry. You repaired the school in a single night," Hermione defended.
"Not without help," He pulled Dumbledore's wand from his pocket, showing it to her.
"Professor Dumbledore's wand. You stole it?" Hermione asked.
"Of course not. I won it. Wands work through allegiance. If a wand is evil, it bonds easily with evil wielders. If it's purely good, it only bonds with those with purely good intent. But some wands are in the middle. They can be tamed. Turned to a new wielder. This wand is the center. The middle point of all wands. Its allegiance can change at a single disarming spell. And then it won't work for you anymore. That is what happened to Dumbledore. On the day of the First Task, Barty Crouch Jr disarmed the Headmaster. And I disarmed Crouch. He wasn't even holding this wand, but my disarming him made me superior. It made me it's master. And with its power, I was able to fix everything,"
"But the wand only reacts to your power,"
"No. The wands focus your power and add their own. Did you ever notice that I don't use a wand?"
"You use a staff,"
"Yes. Why do you think that is?"
"It's a better focus?"
"Not exactly," Harry said. "I chose a staff simply for one reason. While they are better in most if not all aspects compared to a wand, my staff is made out of special materials that I chose myself. The wood bends to my will. Turning the staff into any weapon I need. And the sphere at the point contains magical crystals I created that help focus and strengthen my power. And the core. The core is made of the spine of a special creature that answers only to me. Those three components combined with my real wand make it the most powerful weapon in the world except for this wand here. But it can only be powerful with my power. If you were to use it, it wouldn't be any different compared to using your own wand. Worse, since it answers to me,"
"But if I were to disarm you?"
"Still wouldn't work. The spine is that of a Basilisk. It reacts to Parseltongue, the language of snakes. It has been ordered to react to only my voice and the wood to my hands. I would be surprised if you could use it at all," Harry explained.
"Hmm...you'll have to show me how to make one," Hermione spoke.
Harry laughed. "Of course. Just tell me when," They turned back to the stars, with Harry gripping Hermione's hands in his own. He felt her eyes on him, but he didn't mind. His focus was on the stars. On the Proxima Centauri star. It was his furthest goal. The goal was so far beyond his reach at this point that it made him angry. He had done so much in so little time. And yet the most important mission wasn't even conceivable. Not until he found a way to develop faster-than-light travel. Only then would the star system so far away be close enough for him to grasp.
"Harry?" The small amount of what felt like breathing that touched his cheek suddenly vanished, and Harry turned to the doorway leading into the corridor. Daphne was standing there, looking for him.
"Yeah?" She turned at once, spotting him and Hermione with ease. She raised an eyebrow but smiled nonetheless.
"Can we talk for a moment?"
"Of course," Harry turned to Hermione. But she was gone, an imprint of her former presence left behind on the snow-covered seat. Harry got to his feet and stepped through the snow towards Daphne, who was looking around warily. When he reached her, the eldest Greengrass sister grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him into the corridor. But she didn't stop, she pulled him far away and up to the third floor. She then yanked Harry into an empty classroom and pushed him against the wall. And then it happened. Her lips were on his, and her hands were already beginning to pull on his belt. Harry was frozen. He began to panic. Flashes of Miranda blurring his vision.
No. No. She isn't here. This is Daphne. Daphne Greengrass. She's not like Miranda. Harry told him this a few times, and then found the courage that had left him when talking to Hermione. He grabbed Daphne's waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss. His hand reached down, grabbing her thigh as she jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist. He proceeded to carry her to the desk at the end of the room, lowering her onto it as he began to trail kisses down her neck. She gasped, clutching his hair as he traveled down to her collarbone. Harry then broke away, kissing Daphne once again on the lips before smiling. "Only live once, right?" She giggled, pulling her into another kiss. You only live once.
Harry groaned, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings as he remembered the night before. His arms and waist were sore, and his eyes were blurry. But one arm hurt more than the other. It was numb. It wasn't until he started reminiscing about the night before that he understood. Daphne Greengrass was lying in his bed beside him, her body resting on his right arm. She was turned away from him, which meant that her rear was pressed against his waist. And the adolescent body he was in liked that. It responded immediately, with a part of him growing at the feeling. They hadn't gone far the night before. Nothing more than kissing and a lot of groping. It was evidenced by the fact that they were still wearing clothes. Though that had gone down to nothing but their underwear and her bra. But it was still clothing.
He pushed shadows around his body, preparing the sore muscles and eliminating the numbness of his arm. Harry then placed his arm around Daphne's exposed waist and pulled himself closer. He breathed in the scent of her silver/purple hair, delighting in the cinnamon and lavender he smelt there. His ears perked slightly as he began to listen closely, feeling for the beating of her heart. It was steady and smooth. It was a beautiful rhythm. He could fall asleep like this. And he almost did. Then he felt her shift slightly, her heart losing that rhythm as it began to beat faster. She was awake. Harry peeked around her shoulder and noticed the smile on her face, her eyes were still closed. "Good morning," He breathed. Harry felt her shiver slightly as his breath hit her neck. His smile turned to a grin.
"Good morning," She whispered back. The smile on her face never disappeared. "I think someone's happy to see me," She added, referring to the part of him that had perked up before.
"I've never woken up with a beautiful woman in my bed before. It was quite excited," Not exactly true, but it didn't matter. This moment mattered. Daphne's smile widened, her weight shifting over his arm as she turned to face him. Her left arm was pinned to the bed beneath her, but her right hand reached up to rest on his chest. Harry inhaled deeply. Her hand was soft and warm. A polar opposite to his scared and cold chest. Scars he had gained in the single month he had had this body. The battle with The Shadow and the fight at the First Task had been damaging. She traced the largest scar, which went directly over his sternum. Her eyes were watching it too, while Harry's eyes examined her face. Her smooth cheeks. Her lips were covered in faded purple lipstick, her bluish-silver eyes, and her hair. He had been stupid to not know her before.
But he knew her now. And he wasn't going to forget her. Even if this ended up being nothing but a fling enacted by her. Harry would remember Daphne Greengrass forever. He hoped she would remember him too. "What are you thinking about?" Daphne asked.
"You," Harry replied, his smile permanent. Daphne smiled in return and leaned forward to kiss him, something Harry eagerly returned. He pulled her into him, his hand resting on the small of her back while they turned over. He now lay above her, slowly trailing kisses down her neck. She sighed in content, leaning back to allow him more room to work. Harry kissed down her neck, kissing along the inside of her bra before reaching her stomach. He continued kissing until he reached the seam of her underwear. When he tried to pull on them, a hand gently grasped his own in a warning.
"Not yet," Harry obliged, and returned to kiss her on the lips.
This was how it went for almost six days. Even after classes had resumed on the 1st, Daphne stayed in Harry's chambers. They would wake up, fool around, eat breakfast, talk, fool around, eat lunch, talk and read some books, fool around again, eat dinner, talk some more. And then fool around some more until they fell asleep. Rinse and repeat every day. And Harry was happy. He enjoyed Daphne's company. She was kind, thoughtful, intelligent, witty. She could hold a conversation with Harry no matter what he discussed with her, and she seemed to easily grasp some of the insane concepts Harry thought of during their talks. And she was beautiful. Stunning. So much more stunning than anyone Harry had ever met. She was almost perfect.
Almost.
The only problems were large ones. One; she was only fifteen - her birthday being in October - and Harry was mentally nineteen. Harry didn't plan on telling her his secret just yet, not after he grew to know her better. But the age gap made him feel a bit awkward and nervous. He expected Aurors to bust down his doors, and yet when she kissed him he felt like he was fourteen again. He lost all feeling of responsibility, and so he stayed. Harry reveled in the feeling of having zero responsibility and instead spent his time with Daphne. He didn't do any research, only bouncing ideas off of her. He didn't contact his team, and he talked to no one else. It was only her.
And the second problem; her family. The Greengrass' were a notoriously neutral family. In conflicts between the 'Light' and the 'Dark', the Greengrass' didn't choose sides. Not even if one of their own was aligned with a certain group. If Harry was to align himself with the Greengrass' in any way, he would gain no favors from the family, and may even face opposition. It was a rough conclusion to come to terms with, but Harry resigned himself to the fact that it didn't matter.
What were these feelings? Why was he focused only on Daphne? Why was he ignoring everything else in his life to focus on this girl? He hadn't done that with Cho. No. The only one he had done that with was Claire. And he had loved Claire. Had loved her until receiving this new body. Harry had rooted himself in this universe. His flesh and blood had been created here. This was his home. He would never see her again, and Harry had come to terms with that. But now, here he was. And the feelings he had had for Claire he now felt for another. Daphne. He knew the feeling. The need. He wanted to run. To leave this all behind and get back to the important work. But he couldn't. He wanted to stay. To rest in bed with her in his arms.
[Close your eyes]
A voice echoed through Harry's mind. He was lying in bed reading a book, with Daphne at his side as she read her notes on Arithmancy. His eyes shot up towards the door, but it was closed and sealed shut. Harry frowned. He turned to Daphne, but her eyes were engrossed in the book. She hadn't said anything.
[Close your eyes and see for yourself.]
Harry's frown deepened. But he did as he was instructed and shut his eyes. His 'Soul-Sight' kicked in at once, and he began to see the magic that ran through Hogwarts. It was as beautiful as always, but he had already seen it a thousand times before. Nothing important about it. It wasn't until he turned to Daphne once more that he understood the voice. Daphne's soul was different compared to any other soul he had seen before. It was a bright blue like all of the others, but it had a layer of white and gold surrounding it. Almost like a...shield. And the shield was connected to a golden-white tether connected directly to him. Harry peered down at himself and frowned. His soul was no longer purely white. It was now white with gold markings. They were connected through souls. He knew that souls connected based on human connection, but to be shielded by a bond?
[You two share a bond. One not seen by your kind for many years. It strengthens you both. Makes you more powerful than before.] The voice explained. [Go to the bank. The creatures will explain everything.]
The creatures. The goblins. The voice wanted him to go to Gringotts. What type of bond was this? He couldn't just say 'soul-bond'. That was both obvious and real in anyone Harry met and established a relationship with, romantic or not. This bond was stronger. But he didn't know how it worked, or what it was. The two of them needed to go to Gringotts as soon as possible. Why wait? "Daphne," The girl in question perked up at her name, gazing up from her book to look at him. "I forgot that I need to go to Gringotts for business. Want to come along?"
"Today?" She asked.
"No time like the present, right?" Daphne smiled, leaning forward to kiss him before getting to her feet. She was still in her underwear, and her walk to his wardrobe gave him a wonderful sight. Especially given the way she swayed her hips like that. Harry shook his head, forcing himself to his feet. He needed to get dressed in fresh clothes, and he needed to get out of the castle without being seen by anyone. Harry got dressed in a classic white buttoned-up shirt, black jeans, and white sneakers. Daphne's hair had returned to its golden blonde, with her wearing a dark silver dress that she had brought from her trunk. It looked quite nice on her. So once the two were ready, Harry took Daphne's hand, and the two left the Hogwarts grounds beneath his Cloak of Invisibility. And once they reached the edge of the premises, they disappeared in a crack and swirl of black.
Neville Longbottom wasn't stupid. Despite the rough start he had had during his first year at Hogwarts, the events that transpired since then had made him a powerful and competent wizard. The incidents against Quirrel and the Basilisk had given him an immense feeling of confidence he had never felt before. Confidence that carried into his rather uneventful third year. And now here he was in his fourth, witnessing the events of the Triwizard Tournament with his own eyes. Neville was confident that all of the Champions would survive the second and third tasks. After all, three of them were older and the fourth was Harry Potter. The boy had made himself a legend outside of the 'Boy-Who-Lived' title. He was now a legend thanks to his sheer power and mysterious nature.
But that mystery had only grown after the night of the Yule Ball. With the Marauder's Map in his possession, Neville was able to track Harry Potter throughout the entire castle. But the boy never left the library or his chambers in the Teachers Wing. But after the Yule Ball, he stopped going on runs and stopped visiting the library. He stayed in his room for a whole week, only moving around within the chamber. And the weirder part was the name beside him on the map. Daphne Greengrass. She had been missing from her classes and the Slytherin Common Room since the Ball. But it made sense. Many students knew she had danced with Harry Potter during the opening dance. But spending a week alone with him? Was something going on? Was she in trouble?
While Neville may be a Gryffindor, he was not brave enough to ask about it though. The professors didn't seem concerned about Daphne's presence, and Neville assumed that Dumbledore was aware of the situation. And if the Headmaster wasn't going to do anything, then Neville would stay out of it for now. On the evening of January 2nd, classes had just begun. It wasn't until after his evening classes that Neville could return to his trunk to check the map. But when he checked Potter's room, he and Greengrass weren't there. He looked all over, going down each floor, but they weren't there. And then he saw them. They were on the Viaduct, walking away from the castle. Why were they leaving? Had they gotten Dumbledore's permission? Neville found that sense of confidence inside himself and stood to his feet. Clutching the parchment, he left the Gryffindor Dorms in search of Professor McGonagall. He had to warn her that Potter was leaving the castle.
