Author's Note: Sorry I've been away for a while. Shit happens, I guess. Hope you like the new chapter and hopefully, there will be another right around the corner. As always I appreciate all your support and stay safe!
Chapter 14: The Only Thing That's Real
Of Merlin, the great wizard whom is either quoted or swore upon almost daily by our kind, very little is actually known for certain. This is in part due to the reclusive wizard's propensity for secrets, but also his naturally mysterious character. However, in the months leading up to his death, the story goes that the wizard asked a young poet, who later became of some repute in the muggle world and whom we shall call William, to accompany him on one last adventure. The youngster obliged, of course, and speculation on that singular adventure shall be discussed in a later chapter. What is of immediate interest and should serve as a fine opening for this piece is the topic of their very first conversation. William noted that after exchanging pleasantries, the two batted back and forth on various gregarious topics until out of the blue the aged wizard asked about a poem the youth had recently penned. William was astonished that the wizard even knew of it as it had not yet been published, like most of his musings, in any far-reaching manner. The wizard said, "you wrote of love as if you are in love with the very feeling itself, you wrote like a man who had, coveted and claimed it for all it was worth, and then had to suffer the consequences of losing it." The writer replied, "because I did". The wizard looked every bit his hundred years and continued, "I have achieved a lot in my life, some might say I've achieved more than most, and perhaps even more than some might ever dream…and though I can say I have lived a happy and fulfilling life, my deepest regret was not in what I accomplished, but what I didn't…it is something that has haunted me all these long years." Merlin then held his tongue and William noted he appeared to withdraw in on himself, as though he was trapped in his own memory'. William then prompted, "What was it?"
"The gift of age becomes the curse of time. I was too busy chasing my dreams to realise she was right in front of me. And when I finally let reality catch up…she was gone. Dead. And no power, no magic, no will or force in the world could change it…ever since then the accolades that permitted me this long and illustrious life have acted more a curse than gift, serving as a daily reminder that she is not here and that I wasted my youth on pursuits that could only be deemed frivolous next to the love I hold for her."
William had no idea what to say, but he had a sinking feeling he knew why he had been called. "What are you planning to do, Merlin?"
The greatest wizard of our time then broke into the saddest yet most kindly smile the poet would ever see, "…to see her again."
An extract from the forward of the last remaining copy of Merlin: But for Magic
The wind whispered underneath his wings as he drifted in harmony with the sky; the summer sun stroking his feathers and warming him to his core while he swam through the open canvas above Hogwarts. Spotting a figure watching him on the ground, he angled his body into a dive. At the last second, he pulled up, spiralled circles around his voyeur and landed with a graceful flip in front of her.
Within a heartbeat, Harry had scooped Daphne into his arms. She screamed as he threw her up. A moment later their faces were together, then their lips, then all was right and Harry could have flown right then, with or without wings. She was in his arms, and she was all he wanted. All he would ever want.
Cheering broke out near them. Harry stopped the kiss to observe all of his friends, and most of Gryffindor and Slytherin standing on the sidelines cheering them on. Even Ron and Malfoy were there smiling and laughing.
No way this is real, Harry thought. Even if he was lucky enough to get the first, both Ron and Malfoy cheering…If trolls could dance. Turning to Daphne he saw something: A love so deep it swelled in her eyes and reached right down to her soul shone out at him. Harry was only too happy to reply in kind and reached out to kiss her again. He closed his eyes reached forth but his hands grasped around nothing. His eyes shot open, searching. No one was there anymore. She was gone.
Where was he now? Why couldn't he feel anything? Blotchy darkness flooded his vision sweeping him away from Hogwarts into a canyon of inky black. There was nothing to grasp on to ground himself but grey wisps leaking through the air like milk momentarily clouding ink. Spinning in empty circles, all Harry could see was endless nothing in a collapsing dream. Was this one of Voldemort's or his own? The answer was usually less certain until the dream's end reared its ugly head.
Out of nowhere lightning burst in the distance, yet somehow flashed right next to him. Then another on the other side. Harry was on the balls of his feet, wand drawn, hair on end. The faint cry of scream's echoed through the darkness as if carried by an invisible current. It was followed by the curt smell of singed hair and a cold that crept up his spine like tiny little knives. Harry tightened his grip on his wand.
Suddenly flashes and screaming burst around him again. This time Harry saw figures in hooded robes and emotionless masks stirring their surroundings. Next thing he knew the flashes had turned a sickening green colour: The killing curse. Flying from wands like sparkling bullets from guns, Harry could do nothing but watch as groups of cowering people were struck by the life-ending curse. Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons: Nobody was immune.
Then someone else appeared. Someone he recognised. A bundle of flowing brown hair was cradling another body. Daphne. She was distraught, tears running down her face. A green light appeared.
NO! Harry tried to reach them; tried to break the dream, willing his magic to help, forcing himself to move and get there. But it wasn't enough. They disappeared in a puff of smoke. The people had vanished but the screaming persisted. Echoing like an endless bark round the darkness it grew louder and louder until Harry wasn't sure if it was blaring inside his head or slicing his ears.
Just when he couldn't take it anymore, the screams faded, leaving him helpless and alone in the deep darkness with nothing but his breath and his tears, as they burned down his face and splashed to the floor, to make a noise. Harry huddled in on himself on an endless floor. Alone, frightened and defeated…
-HP-
A tentative dawn poked its head into the valley the next morning as if testing its toes in the day before leaping in. The sun cast striking rays through the elongated windows of the Hospital wing by the time Harry arrived. He attempted to edge the troll-heavy oak door open as silently as he could but it moaned as though being awoken from a deep hibernation; he had the distinct impression Madam Pomfrey had charmed the door so she could snag potential escapees in the act. Thankfully, she didn't notice this time as her office door at the opposite end of the hall remained closed. I've got to research that silencing spell, he chided himself.
Having not been able to sleep further after his bitter nightmare, he'd run around the lake, then through his Occlumency training, trying in vain for a glimmer of mental balance. Thankfully and according to his map, which he'd hastily checked upon waking, Daphne was fine and in Slytherin tower. Still the vividness of his dream, the reality of seeing her and everyone else suffer was a freshness that lingered like a scar on his psyche.
Shaking his thoughts back to the present, his eyes were drawn to Hermione, who lay as she had done last night: stone still but peacefully sleeping. Next to her, Ron slept, his hand clasped desperately in hers and head resting to her side on the bed. Madam Pomfrey had scoffed at the idea of having someone else stay, but there was a fierce determination to his demeanour last night, that suggested not even the killing curse, let alone her razor sharp admonishments would be able to shift him. In the end, and after an encouraging nod from Dumbledore, she had acquiesced.
"Oh, fine. Perhaps she will benefit from the company." She remarked tartly. "I've one more potion for her and she should be able to leave by the end of the week." She finished before bustling away to her potions cabinet.
"The main thing is there is no permanent damage." McGonagall continued, concern lacing her words.
"Indeed, Minerva." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I applaud your fast actions, Harry. Had you not applied the healing spell and halted the spread of the curse when you had, the situation before us might have been a great deal more dire."
"I'm just lucky it worked," Harry said, venting relief with every breath, as he stood observing a motionless Hermione. Ron sat sentry at her side, his eyes never leaving her face as if he could implore her to wake up with his gaze.
"Heroic as they may have been, and commend you on them I will Potter, do we know why they were necessary?" His head of house asked.
"Severus is looking over the necklace now. Miss Granger is very lucky she did not touch the surface." Dumbledore did not need to finish the sentence, the leftover implications clogged the air as though it were one of Seamus' potions.
McGonagall looked aghast. "But do we know who it was meant for?"
Dumbledore glanced sideways at Harry. "She didn't say who she was delivering it to. Just that she had to go back to Hogwarts to deliver it to…someone. I'm certain she was under the imperious curse though. She wasn't herself. She…" The image of Hermione suspended off the ground, snow gliding by a face that silently screamed anguish, then let out a deafening wail. Harry shook himself back to the present. "-She went to the bathroom, to clean off some butterbeer, and then never came back. Just darted for the exit. When Ron and I caught up to her, she was on her way back here with the necklace."
Dumbledore seemed to enter into a deep thought.
"I…" Harry began, desperately wanting to voice the fact that he suspected Malfoy. But he had no evidence. He hadn't even seen Malfoy there that day. It was just a feeling, niggling at him as though it were an insatiable mosquito on the back of his neck. Giving the package to Hermione to then give to someone else was hardly a well thought out plan. For instance, how would she have even got it by Filch? By cursing him? And then what, get that necklace past the teachers and hope the intended target was dumb enough to pick it up out of greed? So thin was the ice below this plan, the shoes were already dripping.
Harry came back to reality and saw both teachers gazing at him expectantly. "Who ever it was, I don't think it was a Death Eater. At least not a very competent one. Seems more like a last-ditch attempt than planned attack."
But he could offer no more than that. Both teachers had nodded, and cast the trio a sympathetic eye, although Dumbledore's managed to mix in an unmistakable pinch of pride. After a while they both left to reassure the Granger's in the Headmasters office. Harry felt a pang of guilt for the unsuspecting muggles. In befriending their daughter all those years ago, he'd placed her in the hospital wing countless times, not to mention risking her life on several others. They must be so frightened for her; so helpless, in a world they don't even know, let alone understand. Harry couldn't stop his mind from imagining what could happen to other innocent muggle families like Cherrie's, who had no idea about the war that was so hot on their doorstep it was melting the door handle.
"You look like you've got the world on your shoulders, Harry." Hermione croaked out, breaking the storm of his thoughts and snapping him back to the present morning.
"Hermione!"
"Shhh," she whispered back, "he's still sleeping." And indeed, Ron was, though his forehead lined with creases, it seemed even the warm arms of sleep couldn't shift his concern for her.
"Are you okay?"
"Me? I feel fine. Well, a little rough, why?" She asked as innocuously as though yesterday had never happened.
"Why?" He replied. "Because you nearly…you were nearly cursed in Hogsmeade."
"So, I didn't miss any lessons? Or homework?"
"Homework? Hermione, are you-," Harry was on the verge of puling out his hair, when her lips shifted into a smile.
Yet again relief jetted out of him, this time accompanied by a smile he couldn't hold back. "Not funny, Hermione." She merely cracked her own back, eyes radiating warmth. Although now that he looked closer, her eyes were a little glazed over.
As if on cue, Hermione said, "I quite like these potions, Madam Pomfrey gave me. Maybe I'll ask for one before our exams."
"Who are you and what have you done with the real Hermione?" Harry joked. She continued smiling back wistfully. "Do you…remember anything?"
Her smile waned, the sun falling beneath darkened clouds. "I remember being in the bathroom. Washing all that butterbeer off my top, then nothing. The door opened and closed behind me, I think, but that's it… I just remember a lot of pain." Her haunted words chased away the glazed look her eyes had caressed only moments ago. A tear rose, in its wake. "It was so painful, Harry." A sniff broke free from her grasp, and Harry placed a hand on hers.
This woke Ron, whose head rose like a unicorn in the forbidden forest having just heard a twig snap. "Hermione!" He gasped and enclosed her in a hug. Her smile made a welcome return and warming her face, which sat contentedly on Ron's shoulder. She glanced at Harry, who couldn't keep the knowing smile off his own. Hermione's eyes rolled happily. Then Ron let her go abruptly.
"How do you feel? Are you in pain?"
"I feel fine, just tired and a little light-headed."
If Harry thought he was relieved that was nothing compared to Ron, whose worry was etched so deeply on his face Harry was afraid his friend would have permanent wrinkles.
"Okay good, shall I get Madam Pomfrey?" The red-head asked and made to get up.
"No," she replied, quickly gripping his hand, "Stay here." Ron sat back down. Their gaze clasping in midair.
After a few seconds, Harry seemed to get the point and coughed to re-announce his presence while simultaneously announce his leaving. "I'll come back and see you later." Ron turned, startled to see Harry was even there, then nodded and reaffirmed his gaze on Hermione.
As Harry approached the door, sunlight once again poured through the windows of the hospital wing, and he turned to see it highlight the steadily blossoming crimson cheeks on both his best friend's faces. They didn't take their eyes off each other. Mouths unmoving, exchanging without words the last few years of unbidden longing. Happiness flooded through Harry's own veins at the sight of them. There was a worry, of course. A worry that they wouldn't work out or that the spectacularly unchoreographed dance they'd been doing around one another for some time now would continue into their relationship. Harry just hoped this wouldn't leave him between a golem and a hard place. Or was it rock and a hard place? He couldn't remember what muggles used and what wizard's like the Weasley's used anymore, caught as he was between two worlds.
Regardless, Harry knew this was what both of them wanted. It was the other worry that choked him most. The worry, ashamedly mingled with bittersweet jealousy, that what they had wouldn't last, that their chance at happiness was being threatened and that he was the only one who could stop it. This had been a worry that had emerged and remained ever since learning about the prophecy; the dread that accompanies the happiness, like the night does the stars. It was a worry that threatened his friends' future, as much as his own. That happiness for others was not only short-lived but that it could never really be his. In the end, he felt a strong need to wrap his arms around them in protection and at the same time straighten them, keeping people at a safe distance, so their own happiness couldn't be mired by his fate.
He had never felt happier for Hermione and Ron and the journey they were about to take. And yet as he walked through the empty castle, heavy footsteps echoing off the cold walls around him, he had never felt more alone.
-HP-
In stark contrast to the typical grapevine of Hogwarts, details of the incident with Hermione remained as much mystery as a point of speculation among the student population over the next week. Naturally, they contained varying degrees of embellishment with some claiming she had taken on a whole party of Death Eaters, while others, namely in Slytherin, claimed she had been set upon by her own mane of hair: apparently it had finally had enough and attempted to strangle the life from her. Of the more entertaining ones, though, Harry found his favourite was a story concocted by some first years he'd overheard, whereby in attempting to stave off a basilisk attack on Hogsmeade, Hermione had fought and defeated the mystical creature single-handed. Naturally, she was bruised and banged up but had valiantly defied death and saved the historic town and the people in it.
Suspiciously, the youths couldn't offer any idea as to where the basilisk had come from nor how Hermione had been able to vanquish it but were unequivocally sure that without her the town would have been lost. While this was amusing, the true icing on the cake was they had since started a little fan group dedicated to his illustrious friend. And given only a select few were allowed to visit her, Ron and Harry now became the targets of many questions and pleadings for an audience with their hero. Usually, this would have been as irritating for Harry as it was for Ron. However, given the questions they were peppering Ron about Hermione's recovery also included speculations on the two of them as a couple - 'You are taking good care of her aren't you? You know she deserves the best, you better not harm our saviour, Ronald Weasley' - it made the interactions more than worth it.
"Kiss her gently Ron Weasley." They said, catching Harry and Ron for the third time that day. "Not like some ogre!"
"Shut up!" Ron finally yelled.
"Not one more question from the lot of you. I am a prefect and I can punish you for…for harassment." Ron put together on the spot. "Fortunately, Hermione will be leaving the hospital wing at the end of the week and you can ask her then. In the meantime, you'll have to write your questions down and stop asking us about them. Now, we're late for class!" Without waiting for a response, Ron darted away and didn't look back. Harry was left to shrug and went with-
"What he said." Although he tried to offer a smile, before vacating the area in the vein hope that nobody had noticed the little commotion.
Ron was waiting for him around the next corner when Harry caught up. "Too harsh?" He said, releasing a breathe that contained a resigned relief.
"It's hard to answer that without laughing," Harry said, only to be punched in the arm by Ron.
"I swear they're worse than a bunch of bloody flies, hovering around and searching for clues. I bet ten Galleons one of em will be the next Skeeter."
Harry was having a hard time containing his mirth. It was curious, he reflected; no matter how dim the outside world was, Hogwarts always found a way to repel the darkness. Sometimes that meant its student body stuck their collective head in the sand, sometimes the rumour mill was working over time and others that childlike shenanigans would take over the hallways. Regardless, whenever there seemed to be a good news vacuum, Hogwarts would rush to fill it. Something Harry was all too grateful for right now.
"Think of it this way. When Hermione gets out, maybe you can use them to your advantage."
"How the hell could I do that?" Ron asked as they walked past a crumple of third years trying to pin down an uncaged pixie.
"I dunno. Maybe Hermione can use them to scout empty broom closets for you?"
Ron shoved him in the side, "Oh ha, bloody ha!" He said, his earlier proclamation of being a Prefect all but forgotten now as the pixie caused havoc, tormenting the painting of The Shrieking Lady before locking itself away in the metal armour of Alfred The Boar, or as he was better known, Alfred The Snore. "That's all I need before heading into double Defence with Snape. At least we can partner together."
"Yeah." Harry couldn't contain himself anymore," I guess I don't mind being your sloppy seconds." He said laughing and ducking as Ron whipped out his wand and chased Harry down the hallway.
"You'll pay for that, Harry!" Ron shouted to which Harry kept on laughing.
Before they were out of sight, Harry surreptitiously shot a spell out of the back of his hand. It flew along the corridor until it hit the armour the pixie was in the process of making a break from. Immobilised now, Harry just caught the Pixie being caged before taking the staircase towards Snape's classroom. Ron hot on his heels. At least they wouldn't be late anymore.
-HP-
"Can anyone tell me, what the most dangerous asset in a wizarding duel is?" Snape said, kicking off their DADA class on the offensive. Hermione would not be able to return until the end of the week and had thus made Harry promise to take the appropriate amount of notes. Of course, for Hermione, appropriate meant copying down every tiny little detail that was said and done, so Harry's head was cast down as Snape surveyed the class as though under a microscope.
"Spells." Parvarti offered, only to immediately regret it as her head ducked down inside her neck like a tortoise retreating into its shell.
"No, miss Patil. Although, I can see why a Gryffindor would suspect such an obvious answer." Snape's tone ever capable of invalidating competence. The Slytherin's in the room sniggered.
When no one else offered anything, Harry ventured into the silence, "Hesitation…sir."
Snape looked him dead in the eye, and said with remarkable haughtiness, "Arrogance, Potter: something, I'm sure you're quite versed with." It took no small amount of strength for Harry to swallow the jibe and with it his pride. Worse would have been to rise to Snape's bait. "It is with arrogance that you underestimate your opponent and once you have done that, you are at a distinct disadvantage." Snape held Harry's eyes for a longer time than anyone else's as if Harry didn't already know how the greasy professor felt about him.
"Now, I want you to pair off with a student from the opposite house," a collective groan chorused the room, "and take it in turns casting minor jinxes and attempting to anticipate what spells your opponent will use. All spells will be non-verbal. If I catch anyone using anything unsavoury, it'll be a month's detention." He finished and Harry didn't need to look to know the wrath of Snape's gaze was yet again on him and the Gryffindors.
"He's probably wishing we'll use something we're not supposed to." Ron echoed as they broke off. Snape swished his wand, and the tables and chairs folded to be swept to the side of the room, leaving a large open space for practice. There were a few minutes of awkward shuffling around as people found partner's they were least uncomfortable with. Unfortunately for Ron, that meant ending up with Malfoy; all of the other Gryffindor's had shied away from the tall Slytherin, whose darkened eyes sat in direct contrast to his slicked-back blonde hair. Harry heard Ron swear under his breath.
He noticed Neville end up with Daphne. A pang of sympathy rattled around him for his friend as while Neville's skills had drastically improved, they would certainly be put to the test against Daphne's. It was then he discovered his own partner. Tracy Davis stood, with her arms crossed opposite him. She levelled him with a penetrating gaze, to say the least, as her eyes locked with his through wisps of long blonde hair that had escaped being tied up.
"Potter." She acknowledged, sizing him up as a knight might a pawn.
"Davis." He replied with a nod. "How about-."
"I'll fire first," she interrupted, rolling up her sleeves, "you can defend."
"Fair enough." There was a moment's pause, in which everyone appeared to take in their surroundings. An unmistakable tension had risen in the room as if every breath drew them closer to confrontation, the lines of which were as clear as crystal. On one side stood Slytherin: poised and ready. And on the other awaited the Gryffindor's: hearty and stalwart. In the middle, an eery no-man's land; a gap that echoed the crack dividing their world and one made all the wider by Voldemort's return.
As if a from a starting pistol, the suspense that hung in the air was broken by the simultaneous fire from around the room. Spells swung back and forth as though on a pendulum. Malfoy was glaring at Ron, seeming to have recovered some of his bravado of years previous. The blonde Slytherin then began throwing curses with little regard to Ron's ability to block them. Harry was about to say something when he caught a spell out of the corner of his eye. With a flick of his wand, a shield materialised to absorb it.
Tracy was smiling opposite him. "Concentrate, Potter." An unidentifiable glint in her eyes, something that reminded him startlingly of Daphne's smirk. Harry was trying to work out the meaning behind it when she fired a few more low-level curses at him. Being used to doing this with multiple dummies, he raised a shield easily enough. Down the line, he noticed Neville not fair so well as one of Daphne's stinging jinxes caught him off guard.
In the next moment, his attention was ripped away when next to him Ron yelped. Malfoy had cast a minor curse that cut his friend across the knee. It wasn't deep and barely bled, but Ron wheeled around furious. Snape, Harry saw, was at the other end of the class, evidently ignoring the clash he must have known would break out. Ron started firing curses back, and Harry knew it wouldn't be long before they broke into a full-on duel.
Meanwhile, Tracy continued to throw curses faster and faster at him. She was edging forward too as if testing to see how quick Harry he was. Little did she know he had a few tricks up his own sleeve. He waited until she moved a step closer, Snape's word's echoing in his head, - just then Malfoy uttered under his breath and released what Harry knew without seeing, was a dark curse hurtling at Ron. In one swift move, Harry raised a shield with his wand hand, reflecting Tracy's spell back at her and slyly summoned Ron towards him with the other.
The gap between Ron and the spell was inches. His red-haired friend was yanked into Harry's open grasp and the wall right behind where he'd been standing exploded sending debris and drawing all other eyes in the room.
"Enough!" Snape shouted, immediately killing the chaos of spells.
Ron went to retaliate, eyes wide in rage. But Harry placed a firm hand on his shoulder holding him back. "Are you crazy? You could have killed me!"
"I said enough, Weasley!" Snape said charging over.
"But, sir!"
"Detention. For the whole class!" Everyone voiced their displeasure. "Silence! I said low-level jinxes only! Barely a single one of you listened and all of you failed to take it in turns, so this Saturday you will all be back here writing lines for me…all day." Raged pored from the former potions teacher, as he stood in the centre glaring at everyone in the room. Several shirked under his gaze as if afraid they'd turn to stone. Ron, however, had eyes only for Malfoy; he was on the balls of his feet, one fist clenched, the other gripped so tightly on his wand Harry thought it would snap. In fact, he knew that if he didn't have a firm grip on his shoulder, Ron would probably have leapt across the room to tackle the Slytherin. Instead, his friend settled for barely whispered curses under his breath.
"Draco, in my office, the rest of you, dismissed," Snape said finally, before waltzing away dark robes billowing aggressively through the air behind him. Malfoy stalked after him without a single hint of dismay or even smugness. Harry watched and didn't let go of Ron's shoulder until he was comfortable the Slytherin was out of range.
In all the action, Harry hadn't thought to look if his shield had reflected the spell back at Tracy. When he turned to observe her he found she was giving, what he thought, was an appraising look. But he wasn't able to give it much thought as Ron, shook off his hand, snatched his bag and stormed off. Harry and Neville retrieved their own belongings and shot off after him.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Ron said through gritted teeth when they caught up to him. He then kicked a suit of armour so hard it left a dent. An ancient woman coated in an even older dress in the portrait next to it gave off a shrill scream.
"Crime! A crime has been committed!" She yelled before running off away from the scene.
"Are you alright, mate?" Harry asked.
"No. Did you see that? He could have killed me! That curse would have ripped through my shield like paper and all he gets is one detention with everyone else." He finished, shaking his head. Harry couldn't decide whether he was shaking in disbelief or in fury. Ron then proceeded to kick the suit of armour once more. Probably both, he thought.
After a few moments and several more deep breathes he turned to Harry, "Thanks for the save, mate."
"What save?" Neville asked.
"Harry, he managed to pull me out of the way before the spell hit. Otherwise, I'd be splattered all over Snape's wall right now."
"Yeah, it was a little closer than I would have liked." Harry was just glad he'd been training with his windless abilities and could comfortably cast quick enough to pull Ron out of harm's way. Otherwise, he'd be visiting both his best friends in the hospital wing this week.
"If you had a beard I think one side of it would have been shaved clean off," Neville said, making all three of them chuckle, Ron visibly deflating now.
His friend appeared to chew the side of his face for a moment, "Don't tell Hermione about this, alright."
"She's bound to find out mate," Neville replied, "hell, the whole school will be talking about it by dinner, you know what it's like."
"No, not that. I mean, about the suit of armour. We're supposed to be prefects now. She'd probably cut my head off if she found out I'd kicked it half to scrap." All hints of anger were gone from his friends face as he now resembled what a sheep must look like if it were caught indulging the brand new lawn.
"You're secret safe with us mate," Harry said. "You know what, let's go see her. Tell her what happened before the rumour mill beats us to it."
Was it him or had the tension melted instantly as soon as Hermione's name had come up? Ron shook the sheepish look from his face and sprang forward, his feet conspicuously lighter than before. He led the way towards the hospital wing leaving Harry and Neville to stifle their smirks his back.
"Oh, shut up," Ron said, without turning, and causing the boys to laugh even harder.
-HP-
Later that night, they were all eating dinner and discussing Hermione's attacker when Harry came up with the clever idea of pitching his prime suspect.
"I think it was Malfoy."
Silence met his claim. So much so he could hear an owl hooting from somewhere above. The cacophony of hungry chewing teenagers had never been quieter to his ear.
"Well…?" He prompted, the noise levels seeming to return to normal.
"Harry, come on," said Ron, "Be realistic. You always think it's Malfoy."
"Because it usually is."
"No, it isn't." But before Harry could respond, Ron carried on. "Was he the heir of Slytherin? No. Was he behind the troll of cursed bludger? No. Was he behind blocking our way onto Platform nine and three quarters? No."
"Alright. It's not always him. And I never thought that last one was." Although, the fact that Dobby did belong to the Malfoy's at the time and was helping Harry mostly because he knew of Lucius' plot against him, did make it indirectly a Malfoy's fault. Nonetheless, since when did Ron become the voice of reason? Or better yet, the voice of anti…anti-Malfoy theories, or whatever. Ginny and Neville seemed to be asking themselves the same questions.
"Ron, are you feeling alright?" She asked. "Or have you been put under the imperious curse as well?"
"Yeah. Usually, you'd be the first to jump on the bash Malfoy bandwagon." Neville picked up.
Harry was thinking the same until the light flipped on in his head. "You've been talking to Hermione, haven't you?"
Since Hermione had woken up, Ron's sheepish look was becoming a bi-daily occurrence. And it had only been a week.
"Well, of course, I have. I wanted to get revenge on whoever did this. And I was gunning for Malfoy, just like you are now, Harry. But then Hermione told me she knows he was in detention during Hogsmeade."
"What?" Harry responded incredulously. That couldn't be! "How does she know?"
"Because she was there when McGonagall gave him the detention."
"That doesn't mean...-He could have wormed his way out of it."
"With McGonagall?" Ginny interrupted. "Be serious Harry. She's more likely to let Fred and George off for a dung bomb attack than Malfoy for…Wait, what did he do?"
"Homework failure or something."Ron supplied. Ginny shrugged.
"Look, what makes you think it was Malfoy in the first place?" Ron asked. Was it Harry or was Ron channelling his inner Hermione. For the second time in a minute, Ron earned himself quizzical, if not amused, eyes.
"I don't know. A feeling I guess." His friends didn't outright roll their eyes, they were too nice for that. But they fidgeted awkwardly and had a hard time meeting his own. "Look, he's been acting weird all term. And I mean weird for Malfoy standards. Using the Room of Requirement constantly-"
"People use it quite a lot since most of them know about it from last year," Ron replied ticking his fingers off.
"-He's crazy happy one moment then sullen the next."
"He's a teenager, Harry," Ginny said matter of factly. Indicating a lover's spat that was drawing eyes one table over between seventh years Rory Desmond and Piper Kersey.
Harry carried on. "Somehow better than the rest of the year in potions…even Hermione."
"Maybe he just has a latent talent," Neville said. "Look, I don't like it either. It sucks. But none of these proves he was in Hogsmeade cursing Hermione," He said the last two words under his breath so as not to draw attention, "when evidently he was in detention under the eagle eyes of McGonagall."
Harry couldn't argue with that and he realised he sounded very much like his last year self right now but this felt different. Since learning more about magic, becoming an animagus and taking a whole new path this year, Harry felt like he had a more mature eye than ever; at least, he wasn't letting his emotions jump up and strangle his rational mind as they had in the past. In fact, a side effect of everything that had happened with Sirius and the Prophecy and nearly getting his friends killed meant that he had to take things more seriously. He had to think things through, to take calculated risks, not blind ones.
With all that in mind, Harry couldn't find a gap in his friends' logic. They were right. It couldn't be Malfoy.
Yet, Harry had always listened to his instincts. It's what made him such a good flier, and usually what got him out of situations like every single near-death one he found himself in. And his instincts were screaming Malfoy. His friends were all eyeing him worriedly but Harry couldn't think of any rational way to persuade them, or even himself. He just knew it was Malfoy.
Taking pity on him Ginny piped up. "Look, just because it doesn't look like it's Malfoy, doesn't mean it's not someone close to him. Ron, what does Hermione think?"
"She's as clueless as the rest of us. All she remembers is heading to the bathroom. After that, it's just pain." Ron's demeanour darkened at the thought of Hermione suffering and abruptly the teens dropped the topic.
Harry felt like he shouldn't let his eagerness to blame Malfoy or catch the culprit get in the way of his concern for his friend. So he resolved to keep quiet about it until he had more than a hunch. Craning his neck around, he glanced over at the Slytherin table which was conspicuously empty except for a few timid first years. Harry wondered if Snape was up to something, and thought about Daphne.
Speaking of which, he had to run. He got up and excused himself from the rest of dessert to work on an assignment for the DA.
"Do you need help, Harry?" Ginny asked as he was leaving. She seemed very tender all of a sudden, her brown eyes filling with gentle concern. Struck by a rush to meet her, Harry was about to alleviate her worries and reschedule a meeting together when he noticed Dean getting up to take the place he'd vacated.
"No. That's okay, thanks Gin. Just something cool I want to prepare for the next class." He lied, hopefully smoothly. She nodded and her attention was snapped away by Dean who sat next to her and started chatting animatedly. Ron put his fork down at that point and nudged Neville, nodding for the common room.
Not wanting to awkwardly beg off his friends, Harry left in a hurry and managed to walk through the rest of the castle without being confronted. Making his way to the seventh floor, he arrived just in time for his meeting.
After walking in front of the bare stretch of wall, as had become habit, Harry tried not to let his excitement at seeing his duelling partner show. It was then he wondered if the room could anticipate how he was feeling as well as what he was muttering. If so, would it produce a romantic fire pit? A welcoming couch? Or mood lighting? It had created mistletoe last Christmas with Cho, after all, Harry remembered.
Shaking off his fanciful thoughts, Harry reached for the handle. They were just friends, he reminded himself. She's not even going to Slughorn's party with you, so no need to get caught up.
Opening the door, Harry was left to gulp. On the one side was a duelling platform and open space surrounded by mirrors: Just like the DA last year. On the other, was a cosier than necessary couch, ornate wooden bookshelf and a large encompassing fireplace framed with candles. All they needed was a spark. Harry scrambled to change it before she arrived.
Other parts of the room had altered slightly as well, interpreting either his wanton mind or the relaxing nature of their relationship from stonily tolerant to… a little less stonily tolerant with the occasional smile sprinkled in. Regardless, large windows had now appeared lining the sides of the room giving them an eclipsing look of the grounds and black lake. Idly, Harry wondered if the windows just appeared at random on the outside of the castle or whether it was a magical projection like the ceiling in the great hall. Opening a window he felt the very real whip of ice whispering on the wind and hastily shut it again.
He wondered how long he had before Daphne arrived and noticed that in place of the old clock that hung on the wall, several were now dotted around the room. Harry was curious to know if the room had been enchanted to do this in case students over-indulged in the opportunities the room offered.
Wondering just what the room thought of him right now, Harry decided to make use of the updated cosiness offered and wait with a book. He took one of the many old defence tombs stacked against the accompanying wall, to sit in front of the fire.
Since his recent adventures, Harry had been prioritising healing spell research and had come up with some good field remedies should he be injured again. At least in theory. In reality, healing spells were hard to practice unless you felt like injuring yourself. And given the fact he'd already got enough scars to last him into the next decade, Harry felt he wasn't willing to practice on himself. This meant while he crammed the theory, he would only ever really test his healing skills on the battlefield. All the more reason to keep training harder so in a duelling situation he wouldn't need it.
After reading his book for a while, Harry glanced at one of the clock's only to see it read twenty past eight. Either Daphne was late or she'd forgotten. At half-past, Harry resigned himself to the fact that she wasn't coming. Sadness mingled with disappointment as they swam unchecked around his heart. Had she not liked their last lesson? She said she'd wanted to come again, but why not tell him she couldn't? He still had the charmed piece of paper they used to communicate. Unless something was wrong. Had something happened to her? Harry's mind jumped to Malfoy and then Zabini. If something had happened to her…
Suddenly the door jolted open to reveal an out of breath Daphne Greengrass. "Hey," she said, relief pooled in Harry like a river into a canal. He couldn't help his eyes as they drank every ounce of her appearance: the way her brown hair waved as it stroked her face, the shimmer of her summer-blue eyes and her faintly crimson cheeks. His thoughts must have been transparent as her next question was, "are you alright?"
"Hm, -oh, yeah. Good." He said smiling and shaking off his embarrassing stare. "Sorry, you?"
"Yeah," she replied, seemingly too concerned with catching her breath to question it. "-Sorry, I'm late. I couldn't get away. Snape kept us all in the dungeons for an inquisition."
"An inquisition?"
"Well, more of a 'No one is leaving this room until I have found the culprit' type ultimatum." She said in an imitation of Snape's deep drawl that was remarkably spot-on. So spot on, in fact, that Harry couldn't help but laugh.
"Wow, you've been practising."
"Thanks, it's kind of a hobby of ours. We even have a little group who try to outperform each other."
"No way!" Harry remarked incredulously; hearing a Slytherin mock Snape was like catching a Dementor admonishing you with Shakespeare instead of ripping your soul out.
"Yes way, we even held competitions. Well, up until last year that is, when things got a little more tense." She said the last word with an emphasis that didn't need to be explained.
"Yeah, that I understand. But what was he after?"
"Oh, apparently some dumb first year wanted to gain access to the Gryffindor common room so tried to bribe one of his class for the password."
"What?" Why would-."
"Not a clue." She shook her head and rolled her eyes all at once. "McGonagall had been a cat at the time and overheard the whole thing." Harry imagined the student's reaction when the seemingly inane feline turned into his bitingly stern Transfiguration teacher right under his nose, and couldn't help but pity the youngster. "Thing is he hinted he was put up to it, so Snape held us all back, trying to find out who'd done it. No one cracked of course, but the kid is being made to do lines every Saturday until the end of term." Ouch, Harry mentally cringed. He'd never heard of a punishment that severe before, half-surprised he hadn't earned it himself…there's still time, I suppose.
Speaking of which, Harry wondered whether Malfoy's internment for the fight in class today was for the same amount, a question he posed to Daphne.
She bit her lip. "As far as I know he didn't even get an extra detention for it." Harry's eyes rolled so deeply into his head he was afraid they wouldn't come back. "Although, I guess Snape gave him a scolding, because he stormed into the common room after class, went straight up to his dorm and didn't come down for the rest of the night."
"Why do I get the feeling, he won't get anything more severe than that." Daphne simply shrugged, as if to say, Snape's Snape. Harry was about to say he couldn't believe it, then he remembered this was the same Snape who'd ridiculed, bullied, debased and treated him and anyone else who wore red and gold with nothing less than dripping contempt over the years, that Harry was forced to say, "Yeah. Snape is Snape. Anyway, what did you think of the lesson?"
"Lesson, what lesson?" Sarcasm coated her words as if they were a jacket in winter. "Oh, you must mean the near all-out brawl our illustrious head of house nearly incited."
"Yeah, Ron was fuming after."
"Hard to blame him. Malfoy was way out of line."
"And, how did you fare against Neville?"
She smiled. "I have to admit he was better than I thought. Although, he was with you in the ministry last year, right? So, I guessed he'd be better than most. But still, I think I got the best of him."
"You know, when I agreed to teach you I had no idea you'd be able to use your skills on my friends."
She continued her smile but added a disarming charm to it. "True, but it was just low-level stinging hexes…not that I would take it that easy on you." She said, unable to contain her smirk.
"We'll see," Harry said, picturing their next duel. "At least it's good to know the training's helped so far."
"Definitely." She replied, her face lighting up for a brief moment before she appeared to catch herself and mentally shake it off. "How did you go against Tracy."
Harry wasn't sure how to answer that one. "Well. Except she was looking at me kind of strangely throughout."
"Oh?" Daphne replied feigning nonchalance and looking out the window.
"Which is kind of weird right?" He went on, leaving his question hanging while Daphne continued to avoid his eyes "…unless, of course, you told her we've been meeting up."
"Meeting up makes it sound like…like something. When really we're just training." She said frankly. Meanwhile, Harry's heart tripped, landing face-first into a muddy abyss.
"Right," he managed. "But I mean, you did tell her then?"
"…yes." She attempted delicately. Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Look, I'm sorry but she's my best friend and I trust her with my life."
"And what about Zabini?"
"What about him?"
"Did you tell him as well?"
"What? No. Just Tracy knows. I wouldn't…I mean Zabini and I aren't even that close." The image of him cosying up to her in the three broomsticks popped very indelicately into Harry's head threatening to boil his blood. Daphne opened her hands as if gesturing she had nothing to hide, but Harry had a hard time believing her. It must have shown on his face as she turned and started to pace. "I'm sorry, Harry. But as I said, she's my best friend."
"I'm not mad that you told her." Although, now he knew why Tracy had tested him earlier on in class.
"Then what?"
"I'm mad you didn't tell me." That stopped her in her tracks.
"Oh," was all she managed. She bit her lip and grew shier than Harry had ever seen. "I'm sorry…I didn't think,-I should have told you she knew. But I didn't tell her everything. She doesn't know about your wandless skills or that you were there in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade with me. She just thinks we're, er- training together."
Well, that was a relief, Harry thought. If Tracy knew everything, then that could cause some very large problems for him, let alone for her. Harry was already a little uncomfortable putting Daphne at risk with what she knew. At that moment, his thoughts and his eyes were torn away from his worries and onto Daphne whose cheeks, if Harry wasn't mistaken, had turned a little red. Sensing his gaze she turned away to admire the view out of the newly constructed windows. Harry couldn't resist.
"So, how exactly did you explain our meetings to her? I mean, if she's your best friend, wouldn't she have demanded to know what you're doing with Gryffindor's golden boy?" Those words tasted worse in his mouth than one of Hagrid's rock cakes.
Daphne brushed her hair behind her ear. "I just said I caught you one day using pretty skilled magic and I wanted you to teach me. She knows about the Ministry last year and why I need to learn so badly, so she gets it."
"Hm, and she didn't want any more explanation than that?"
"No, but that's the truth, isn't it? Just not all of it."
Harry found his palms had become awfully sweaty. He could name another very good reason why he had wanted to initiate contact with her but had a sinking feeling it would never be reciprocated.
"Right," He said somehow. No matter how gentle or patient his reach towards her was, she somehow always found a way to shake him off.
"And what about you? You never told me who else you've told my secret to. Or about our little rendezvous since."
"I've only told one person. And he's trustworthy."
"And how would I know?"
"Well, because you trust me. Just like I do you."
"Trust isn't the same thing as not having a choice too, Potter. You might want to learn that someday." She said, as cold as the wind that beat against the window, to which even Harry's insides recoiled. "Besides there are still a great number of things I don't know about you. Like how you got out of the castle and what wand you're using? And why you want to keep everything secret from Dumbledore."
Harry could think of nothing but to retort in kind. "Yeah well, what about all the things you haven't told me, like what wand you're using, how you even knew of the attack, or why the hell you want to kill Dolohov so bad…"
Her eyes widened. Almost immediately, she turned away stalking over to stare out the window. Harry deflated, wishing he hadn't said anything. A deep worry rolled over him like clouds claiming the mantle of the sky that he'd pushed too hard and that she would leave and not return. A few long seconds went by, but she didn't move; just stood on the balls of her feet gazing out the window.
Delicately, as if his proximity would spur her to leave, Harry approached. "Sorry. I didn't mean to push you. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." The silence returned, and Harry considered some of her own questions about him. Of course, she couldn't ever find out the answers to some of them, but he felt if he knew about Tracy then it was only fair he evened the scales.
"Remus, Remus Lupin." She turned to him with a look of confusion.
"Our old DADA teacher, the werewolf?"
"Yes, he's the one who knows about you, and a lot about me as well…he was one of my parents best friends and probably my last remaining tie to them. I trust him with my life," he added for extra measure.
She considered him for a moment, observing him calmly yet vastly, giving Harry the impression he was like a maths problem she just couldn't quite solve. "Thanks for telling me." She said and offered the hint of a smile back at him.
"Sure. Shall we get to training?"
"Yeah. Let's." She smiled, civility between them temporarily restored.
After an hour of back and forth then a quick duel at the end, which Harry won, they stopped to rest by the fire.
"Nice work. You're getting better quickly."
"Thanks, Potter. Funny what you can do with a competent teacher, I suppose." She replied taking a drink of the supplied water.
"Careful, Daphne. Any more compliments and I might start to think this whole Slytherin Gryffindor rivalry is all in my head."
"In your dreams, Potter." Harry managed to mask his disappointment behind his own goblet. If only you knew, Harry felt like mumbling but was glad saner heads prevailed.
"So, I heard you've finally chosen someone." Daphne inquired nonchalantly. "For the ball."
"Oh, yeah. Luna Lovegood."
There was a strange silence, one in which Harry felt like his heart was being sucked into a vacuum. "She's quite pretty" Daphne continued, "…there's no doubt. Plus she was with you at the Ministry last year, right? So, clearly, she's a loyal friend." Daphne said the last word with a tone Harry couldn't quite identify.
"Yeah, I mean, like you said, put the fangirls out of their misery. Plus, the girl I wanted to ask was taken so-." Had he just said that? Oh, god. Why? Now it'll be obvious. He couldn't afford to meet her eye but glanced at her out of the corner of his. She casually eyed him back but quickly averted her gaze when their eyes met. "Er, so we'll not see each other until the new year," Harry continued the conveyer belt of conversation as hurriedly as he could. "Not including tomorrow's party as I know we'll be pretending we don't know one another, so I er…"
"-What is it, Harry?" She asked. For a second, Harry felt like he was caught in her eyes, locked in an embrace as warming as the wood fire next to them.
"Um, I got you something…for Christmas." He said and pulled out a thin package from his robes.
"Oh wow…I,- you shouldn't have." She appeared truly taken aback. With tentative hands, she accepted the crudely wrapped package. Harry had managed to bewitched the paper so snow was falling over it, making it resemble one of the moving photos the Daily Prophet used.
"S'okay. You can open it now if you want, or I mean, later is fine too." He didn't realise how awkward this would be until right now. He almost wished he hadn't done it, but in the end, he thought she would need the gift.
Carefully, tentatively, she unwrapped it so as not to damage the paper. Once it had fallen away she was left with an ornate box. She opened it and her eyes widened. He had spontaneously decided to get her a wand holster when he was in Hogsmeade…Purely because he was her teacher, of course. She pulled it out to examine its intricate patterns across the brown leather, the same colour as her hair.
"-It's nothing crazy or anything," Harry continued, "I just figured you might need it since we're er-."
"-It's brilliant." Her eyes sought his now. "Thanks, Harry." She spoke softly yet sincerely. In the next second, she had leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. The hairs on Harry's arms, neck and heart stood on end; for a split second all of his hopes, desires, goals and dreams aligned as the purest bliss engulfed him. So much so he had a hard time stopping his smile from bursting. Daphne lingered close to him for a short second more, leaving Harry to smell the coconut from her hair and savour being this close to her.
"…er I didn't get you anything…" She said stepping back. "You kind of caught me off-guard."
"That's okay," Harry replied, trying to regain his composure as if she hadn't just sent fireworks rocketing inside him. "I just wanted you to have it. I always keep mine on me and it's been really useful. Especially since I seem to be in situations where I need to react quickly."
"Still. I feel bad I didn't get you something…perhaps,-hmm. Perhaps, I can teach you a spell?"
"A spell?"
"Yeah, you mentioned you're looking for spells which help with warding and privacy, right."
"I am."
"Good, because there's one called Muffliato which you'll like. It was all the rage when my parents were at school, but it's not taught anymore. Mum showed us last year when we found out Voldemort was back; she didn't think conversations were necessarily safe in Slytherin anymore."
"Sound like a smart lady." Daphne nodded. She then proceeded to show him the spell and the simple hand gesture to make it work. After a few practice attempts, they tried it on one another. Harry found it functioned like an invisible barrier between the caster and the space it had been cast; ideal for private conversations he would no doubt have in the near future.
"Amazing, thanks!"
"You're welcome," she replied in a shy voice Harry had never heard from her before. "I should, er,-get going. Don't want to be out too late in case Snape comes back and Tracy can't cover for me."
"Right, of course." A strange tension had flooded the space between them as if the air were palpitating. It gave Harry the feeling his gift had made her uncomfortable. "I guess, the next time we'll see each other will be at Slughorn's party."
"Yeah." She said as they approached the door. She paused before opening it and Harry felt that her hand rather contained his heart more than the door handle. "Thanks for the gift, Harry. Really." She then smiled reassuringly at him, and the awkwardness evaporated, leaving a warm feeling to rise in his stomach in its place. "See you at the party."
"Looking forward to it." He said before she slid through the door and out into the night.
Harry was thankful there was a couch behind him, as he fell backwards with a large grin plastered all over his face. For some reason, that had very much to do with the fact that the place on his cheek where she'd kissed him felt like it could keep him warm forever, Harry wanted to jump up and scream, YES!
Wait! It was way past curfew. In his excitement, he'd forgotten to check the map to make sure the coast was clear. He quickly pulled it out and said the incantation. Painfully slowly the ink materialised and revealed Daphne walking away. Filch was nowhere near. No teacher was. But that wasn't the problem. She was heading straight for someone else.
Darting to the door, Harry pulled it open and whispered down the hall, "Hey!"
Daphne was right at the end of it and just about to turn onto the adjacent hallway when she stopped. Harry sprinted after her, his wand shooting into his hand.
"Harry?" She whispered back as he got close, concern spread across her face. Harry wordlessly cast Silencio as Daphne's eyes widened. She tried to defend but happily, she wasn't ready and the spell stopped what Harry could tell was a yell from making it out.
He made it to her in the next second and threw the invisibility cloak over the two of them. Channelling his magic he thought of the spell Daphne has just taught him and said in his mind, Muffliato. A strange sensation flew over him, covering both of them as much as the cloak was. Harry had hoped to test it more thoroughly before using it when needed.
Now would have to do, he thought, as a split second later Malfoy walked round the corner. His eyes darting about suspiciously and his wand at the ready.
Daphne was almost too busy shooting questions the size of spears at Harry to notice the blonde Slytherin walk by. Thankfully she caught him and stopped trying to struggle against Harry's grip as he pulled her away from the centre of the corridor and against the wall. They watched in silence, Harry's alertness too on edge to think about his proximity to the girl he was hugging to his front. Malfoy moved slowly in the direction of the door to the Room of Requirement. It stood visible at the end of the corridor, so even if he hadn't heard Daphne's whisper, he would think someone was close. If only he knew just how close.
Harry knew that if Malfoy bent down he could probably see Daphne and Harry's shoes below the cloak. Wordlessly he tried to pull her closer to the ground. She acquiesced. Harry, meanwhile, didn't take his eyes off Malfoy who passed barely a few feet from them. He just hoped Malfoy didn't know a revealing charm. Even under a Muffliato and invisibility cloak that would be a dead give away.
Unfortunately, he was wrong. Malfoy spun in a circle and incanted aloud, "Homenum Revelio."
Shit! Now they were done for. Harry gripped his wand ready to run or fight. And given the show Malfoy had put on in class earlier that day, Harry guessed it would be the latter. With sunken eyes, his nemesis slowly pivoted angling his wand to reveal anything in the direction of its tip.
Daphne, meanwhile, had produced her own wand and was whispering under her breath. Harry didn't think Malfoy could hear them under Muffliato but he was sure in a few seconds it wouldn't matter. His wand was at the ready. He was thinking it would be wiser to back away, so Malfoy would have a harder time engaging them. But Daphne gripped Harry's hand holding them in place. She didn't look his way. Just kept on whispering. Malfoy's wand tip was now facing them. The white glow at the end like a small but penetrating spotlight, revealing their location like a veil being pulled from a statue.
Except it didn't. Malfoy kept pivoting past them. Completing the circle he eased up and took one last glance around then made his way down the corridor towards the door to the Room of Requirement. Harry glanced at Daphne who had finished muttering her incantation and exhaled a relieved breath.
"Another trick from your mum?" He asked under his breath.
"No," she replied, "that one was from my Dad."
I must thank him one day, Harry though but didn't say, instead going with. "Well remembered."
Daphne didn't say anything in response just watched Malfoy. The Slytherin was glancing suspiciously around but once he was satisfied no one was near he walked in front of the bare stretched of wall where the Room of Requirement hid. Harry wanted to go forward and hear what he was muttering, but Daphne pulled him back by the hand.
"Are you nuts? He could hear or see us."
"We're under an invisibility cloak."
"Barely." She said indicating their feet which were showing themselves once more.
Harry relinquished and stayed put. But in the next second, the door opened and Malfoy entered, leaving Harry and Daphne huddled underneath the cloak in a now deserted hallway. Keenly, Harry realised just how close the two of them were as the intoxicating coconut from her hair assailed his nose and the softness of her hand in his became all the more apparent. Of course, both of those were beaten out by the fact that the curve of her body, as he held her against him, was painting a very vivid picture of what was underneath sending Harry's imagination, heart and hormones into overdrive.
For a few blissful timeless seconds, the two teens stayed like that until and as though at the same time both of them were doused with freezing water, they leapt apart. Harry pulled the cloak off while Daphne took a step back not meeting his eyes.
"Anyway, I should…" She started.
"Yeah. Same."
"Thanks. For the save. Let's remember to look at the map next time."
"Right." Harry couldn't think of anything to say and was all too aware of what his body wanted him to do right now. As a result, he found looking at Daphne more than a little embarrassing.
"Right, sooo…Night, Harry." She said and swept away before he could reply.
Gone and around the corner in a swish of robes, she left Harry more than a little putout.
As he stood listening to her steps echo off the stone corridor, he released a breath and felt all the strangeness of what tonight had been rush in on him at once. This was crazy. He must be crazy. If he wasn't careful he could fall head over heels for this girl. And then what? Could they ever tell the world? Would she even want to be with him? Was this the right thing to do when he should be focusing on defeating Voldemort?
Questions on top of questions piled up like books stacked to the ceiling in Flourish and Blotts until Harry finally tossed them aside. In the end, they all led to answers he couldn't yet know. Instead, he focused on what he did know: that the aching in his heart was real. And being that close to Daphne was awakening something inside of him. Something that yearned to get out, like a monster pounding against his chest demanding to be unleashed. Perhaps, he wasn't alone after all, Harry dared to ponder. It wasn't much, but in a way that foreign feeling felt more real than almost anything he'd ever known.
As the wind howled outside, Harry realised he should probably head back. He thought about trying to get into the Room of Requirement. But knew Malfoy would have locked it to prevent entry. Given that and everything that had just happened, he wasn't exactly in the mood for investigating either. With that Harry made his way through the cold evening castle, feeling altogether more hopeful than he had a week ago.
