A/N: Ugh, sorry again for another long wait. It's not that I don't want to get these out to you but between time commitments and my motivation, it's getting hard to keep writing. It might sound crazy, but I've been writing this series for almost two years and it is exhausting. I love this series, but sometimes I need to step away from it and start writing other stories to keep my creative juices flowing. I will finish this story, but don't expect any consistent update schedule. I really am doing my best, but this shit is hard!

With that mini-rant over, please enjoy this chapter!

Chapter XVII: An Apprentice Anew

(Daphne P.O.V)

Morgana's keep was as cold as its mistress. The winds howled like wolves from outside the castle's walls, and silence radiated within. From her castle's balconies, the city-folk toiled away, unaware that their times had come and gone. Though, it certainly was a peaceful existence. Families lived without fear, and nobody worried about the chaos of the outside world. Yes, this life was a meaningless eternal loop, but perhaps that was better than a war against a Dark Lord hell-bent on taking everything from her.

Daphne allowed that to fade into the back of her mind. Harry's absence had only managed to fill her mind more with thoughts of him. She'd slept alone for years, and now the constant soreness of her body was only a minor reason for her restless sleep. Harry was her blanket. When he was around, everything was okay, even when it wasn't. Without him, her current situation had shown her how much she'd grown to rely on Harry.

She'd grown to trust the boy implicitly. Yet, how the boy had managed to find anything kind to say about the Lady of the Castle baffled her. Daphne had read about the Dark Witch in many texts, but even the word wicked failed to define her. It wasn't that the woman was indifferent to suffering; Daphne had seen that many times over. No, it was the glee the woman took in her cruelty that sent shivers down her spine. How a woman like that could ever hold the title of Greatest Medical Witch left Daphne's mind clouded in a deep fog.

Her hands still held their warm tingle from the magic she'd funneled into them. For hours, she drained her core, desperate to keep that man alive. His voice still rang in Daphne's head, as did the sound his head made when it exploded and splattered across the room. The man had a family, friends, parents, and without a second thought, as soon as her test was done, Morgana had disposed of him.

Morgana was different from Voldemort. The Dark Lord had adversaries capable of challenging his status. It kept him unwillingly humble. But Morgana strutted around her castle as if she were a goddess, and Daphne couldn't disagree. The thought of the man Merlin must have been to subdue a woman like Morgana left Daphne's throat drier than a desert. She was only a human in the presence of the near-divine, and Morgana made Daphne's position clear.

Morganna had told her that her training would be worse than death. Daphne believed her, but her options were limited. The training was Astoria's last hope. If she died trying to save her sister, her only regret would be leaving Harry and Astoria behind. She hoped she'd be able to make peace with that if the time came.

Her blood chilled in her veins. The Hogwarts ghosts never failed to leave a chill down a wizard's spine when they passed by, but that was nothing compared to the arctic grasp of Morganna's presence. Daphne was unsure what she thought about the afterlife, but she had no doubt that the devil himself could be no more fear-inducing than Morgan Le Fay.

Without a sound, the witch floated through the door, a twisted grin on her face. "Good, you're punctual. I don't tolerate tardiness." Daphne nodded weakly, and Morganna continued, "You showed promise with keeping that pawn alive for hours; you do have skill with the healing arts. You've piqued my interest, so tell me, little dove, what did you come here to learn."

"Blood curses," Daphne croaked. She lowered her head and held back her tremble, "I beg you, teach me how to cure them."

"Blood curses, you say?" Morgana's smile was cold and twisted, "Yes, now that I think of it, my Crow did ask about blood curses as well. He said someone precious to him was afflicted by one. Tell me girl, is this person precious to you as well?"

"She's my sister. Harry probably referred to her the same way," Daphne said. She smiled softly, "She's the most important person in the world to me. So please, teach me how to cure her."

"Impossible, I created the curse to be incurable other than by the person who cast the curse of a blood relative, I can wipe this figure from your mind and make it so you have no pain when she dies," Morgana said nonchalantly.

"I know that it can be cured. The curse activates when magic is pushed through the body. If I can purify the core than maybe I-"

"Maybe you can do what?" Morgana says, "Remove a witch's magic core. You might as well kill her. And even if I told you it was possible to isolate a magic core, then what? How do you propose to remove a magical core?"

"I have a theory," Daphne replied, "All the same, can you teach me how to isolate a magic core?"

"Once again, that would be impossible." Daphne's jaw dropped at the Dark Witch's statement, "At your current level, that is. Come now; we have to build your strength. How much time do we have?" Daphne replied curtly, a tremor in her voice. The Dark Witch only smirked, "Very well, prepare yourself Daphne Greengrass, hell awaits you. I will once more, out of my admiration for my crow give you a chance to leave this place-"

"No," Daphne snarled, "I'm seeing this through. Even if it kills me." Watch me, Harry, when this is done, I won't be dead weight. I swear it.

"Very well," Morgana grinned, "We'll start you at two times normal gravity. If you don't die, we'll proceed from there."

(Astoria P.O.V)

Astoria opened her eyes with a weak flutter. Her head pounded, and dizziness overtook her when she tried to sit up. She was in her bed, a fact she found odd as she hadn't remembered tucking in last night, and her room was dark and empty. She rubbed her temples, desperate for her headache to subside, and scanned the darkness for her wand. Even when forbidden to do magic, Astoria's felt uneasy without her wand in arm's reach.

Lazily she scratched at her bedside table until the wood rolled into her palm. With half-opened eyes, she studied her wand. It was small, like her, and when appropriately used, contained great power. She'd never once questioned her worth as a person, but magic now detrimental to her health, the wand taunted her. She felt her muscles flex and pull down at the wand but stopped herself at the first creak of the wood. She gritted her teeth and slammed the wood down on the table with a curse. She buried her face into her pillow and snarled; a witch with no magic is no witch at all.

Her sister's words floated in her mind. Astoria hated that she couldn't bury them away. She'd always believed it was better to face the facts as they were, but she couldn't bring herself to discard that tiny shred of hope. If Daphne succeeded, she could survive. No, if Daphne could find a way for her to keep her magic, Astoria could live. It was a stupid and childish hope, but it was all she had to cling to. She was a witch, and she'd have rather died a witch than live a life that wasn't hers.

A knock on the door dragged Astoria from both her bed and thoughts. The cold floor shook the sleep from her system, and with a less than attractive morning growl, she muttered for the visitor to enter. Astoria had never been one to care about her appearance overtly, but the moment the door had opened, she felt her face turn a furious scarlet. Fruitlessly, she pulled at her messy hair and cleared her throat. Why, of all the times for him to show up, did it have to be at her least presentable? More importantly, why did she suddenly care?

He was taller than he'd been when they last crossed paths. He now stood shoulder to shoulder with Harry, who'd come to visit her himself. His curly blonde hair was trimmed short, and his warm eyes glowed like a well-lit fireplace. He'd never been particularly muscular, but the definition in his arms was visible to the naked eye even in the darkness. She swallowed down the raspiness of her throat and forced a smile to her face, "Damyan? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" He said warmly. "It's good to see you again, Astoria."

She stood from her bed, and the two approached before Damyan opened his arms for Astoria to snuggle in. She could only imagine that the blush on her face was something awful by the way Harry snorted with laughter. His chest had grown broader and firmer, much like his shoulders. With a few calming breaths, she released herself from Damyan's embrace and smiled sheepishly, "You've um, you've gotten taller."

A red streak darted across Damyan's face. "Yeah, um, growth spurt, you know?"

"She really doesn't," Harry said with a smirk before Astoria sent him a venomous glare.

"You've, uh, you look good to, I mean, you look pretty... uh, prettier, you've always looked pretty," Damyan stuttered.

Harry patted him on the shoulder and laughed, "Smooth kid, smooth."

"Shut up will you?" Astoria laughed and pushed Harry from her room. With the door closed, she looked once more upon Damyan, this time, with the lights on. "What are you doing here? I thought that Bulgaria was staying out of the war?"

"We are," Damyan said shamefully, "Which is why I didn't come for the war... technically. I came to visit you."

"Hardly a difference right now," Astoria said warmly.

"There's a difference." He tilted her chin up towards him, "Trust me." He smiled brightly, "I've missed you Astoria. I'm glad you're safe. Not that I doubt you or anything. I mean, you could kick my ass all over England. It's just, when you read the casualty reports, I-"

"I get it. It's good to see you too." Astoria said.

"I heard from Harry that, well, your condition, it's, um… how do I put this,"

"Killing me?" Astoria said bluntly, "No need to dance around it. It sucks, but yeah, Harry's right. It's gotten to the point I've been told I'm forbidden to do magic."

Damyan said nothing. Normally, that would have infuriated her, but she knew it wasn't that the boy was ignoring her. Damyan was a listener, he was thoughtful, and while it drove her crazy, he wouldn't speak on a serious matter until he'd thought it through. He was the anti-her in that way, but there was little else to be expected from the Minister's son. Though finally, after a heavy, pregnant pause, he spoke. "I'm not going to say that I'm sorry for what's happening to you because I know how much you hate that. But as someone else who is living on borrowed time, I can't let you just sulk about. Even if you do lose your magic, it won't change the fact that you are still you. I know that might be hard to believe, but you're so much more than just your magic. You have people that love and care about you because of who you are. So don't give up hope, and don't let this thing beat you. You're better than that, Astoria. This is far from over."

"Right," Astoria said with a smile, "Sorry. Sometimes I feel this inner Harry in my come out, and I become all moody and depressed."

"It's okay to feel down like that sometimes, our situations suck tremendously, after all. But, we still need to make the best out of them, and for me, that starts with eating whatever the hell smells so good downstairs. Come on, let's get some breakfast."

Astoria couldn't help but smile when around Damyan. He'd gotten better-looking for sure, but even as they ate, Astoria watched the boy doodle on his napkin. She grinned at the way he'd hold up his drawings for her, each funnier than the last to make her smile and the joy that would overcome him when she eventually laughed. Damyan would have succeeded far more often, but there was one other person that gripped her focus, Harry.

She couldn't be certain of it, but she had this daunting feeling that he was watching her. Not in the way a dad checks in over and over when his daughter's boyfriend is over, but more as if he was trying to study her expression. His glances made her head throb like it had when she'd awoken, and for a moment, panic gripped her heart. She swallowed it down with her internal voice yelling at her that Harry would never mess with her mind, but she couldn't deny that something felt off.

Harry stood hunched over the map of the U.K. with Michael at his side. Sirius and Remus stood at the other end, their sons in their arms as they studied the current situation. She could hear the harsh whispers between Harry and Amelia or Molly but couldn't make out the words. What she could tell by the way that Harry constantly pulled at his hair was that the situation had gotten considerably worse.

The fiasco over the map hadn't escaped Damyan's eye either. His fingers tapped insistently on the dining table, frustration evident in his creased brow. "It's a disgrace that Bulgaria is refusing to help," he hissed. "Try as he might, my father simply cannot convince the council to join in."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Astoria said, her hand atop his. "Claire, she's the French Minister's daughter, and she's in the same position. It's frustrating, but it isn't your fault."

"No, it's not. France's military might has always been a tad on the fragile side. Not to mention, the English Ministry has given the French many good reasons historically not to aid them in time of need. With us, it's a sickening matter of blood supremacy. They buy what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is selling." Damyan hand coiled into a fist, "I want to help but there's nothing I can do to swing the vote."

"If you want to help, you can start by calling him Voldemort." Astoria felt the chill race up Damyan's arm at her words but held it tight. "Harry told me a while ago now, but fear of the name only inspires fear of the thing itself. While you're here, call him Voldemort. That's a start."

"Right, V-Voldemort," Damyan said. "I guess, speaking of the war since we got on the topic, do you have any idea how it's going?"

Astoria studied the look on her older brother's face carefully. The light that normally filled his emerald green eyes had faded, and there was a certain sadness etched onto his face. She'd started to notice it after Daphne left, but the growing concern only made it more apparent. "By the looks of it, bad."

Astoria shoveled down the last of her breakfast and rose to her feet. Damyan's head tilted slightly before she waved for him to follow. She'd been right that the hushed whispers hadn't carried good news, but it became a painful reality at the first words she'd gotten the pleasure of hearing. They'd lost twenty aurors during the Battle of London with fifteen more critically injured.

Harry sighed and looked down at the map before he knocked down two ministry strongholds and replaced them with Voldemort's pieces. "It's just going to be a matter of time before he secures everything west of Oxford. If we condense ourselves to London, we'll be able to hold out for a while, but they have near-infinite numbers thanks to Carmilla. Our first mission has to be to find a way to wipe out the vampires. They are the critical source of Voldemort's numerical power. If we kill them, then it becomes a battle we can possibly win."

"The centaur numbers are good and if the goblins keep their word, it'll help, but make no mistake, they still have the werewolves and giants on us. We aren't at the advantage." Michael said.

"We will be," Charlie said. "Once we get the air support we need."

"You got updates on the dragon situation?" Harry asked.

"Well, when I wrote to the sanctuary to request usage of the dragons, they basically fired me on the spot," Charlie said sheepishly. "But, a buddy of mine gave me the location of this one Horntail being trafficked to Ireland as we speak. He told me when the sanctuary planned to move in to rescue the dragon, and thanks to Ms. Bones over here, who confirmed the news, I know exactly when and how they plan to strike. Which means if I can get there first and tame this thing, we might just have a dragon to add to our ranks."

"There's also the one the goblins use to protect Gringotts, if they join us in battle, they'll most likely bring that thing along with em'," Sirius added. "Not to mention Neville sent us some good news about the Diadem this morning."

"I'll admit it, I'm honestly hurt I was the only one who didn't get to destroy a horcrux, but good on Neville," Michael said with a pout.

"You've done your job, and so has he. I just wish we had some better news to report about Hermione to him," Harry sighed.

"She'll make it," Thatcher said. "The work was messy, but the girl's mind is tough. She'll wake within the week, I have no doubt."

"That's a relief," Claire sighed, "I was starting to get worried there."

"Would have probably taken less time if I had my mentee with me to work on her," Thatcher growled.

Harry's shoulders sank, "Listen, I thought we agreed to drop the Daphne questions. She went off to handle something and I, as the leader of the Order, gave her permission to do it. Whatever the outcome of that decision is, I'll take responsibility for it." He rubbed his temples, "I know I said I'd run this operation differently than Dumbledore, and I don't like going over the top of everyone here before I make a decision but this one needed to be done. Please, let's move on."

Astoria for a moment felt the weight that Harry held on his shoulders. She knew better than anyone else in that room what if felt like to have the whole world question every move you made. Harry only sighed and pressed on, "So, Michael, you figure out any way we can boost morale and maybe push back these bastards?"

"It's not worth trying to push them back, but rather, to force them to have to move," Michael said. "Okay, I know that sounds the same, but it really isn't so just listen. Right now, if Voldemort has any sense, he should want to capitalize on the weakened state that he left London in during his last attack. Meaning, that since he is injured, he's forced to send in troops to do it. Troops are something that we can manage, but like I said, they can overwhelm us. To avoid that issue, we're going to have to scatter them. How you ask? Well, I'm glad you did. See I was reading up on some history books since I couldn't rely on Hermione's all-knowing encyclopedia of a mind right now and I think I've got an idea."

"Can you please for the love of God just tell us the idea," Tracey groaned.

Michael jabbed at the girl's direction with his finger, "You, are no fun. But fine. While looking through history I found a bit that kind of resembles our current situation. We're an underwhelming force tasked with fighting a superpower. In most cases, the underwhelming force just gets steam rolled, but there is one instance not too long ago when the underwhelming force got the upper hand. Any guess on what war I'm referring to?"

"Merlin's Balls, Corner, just give us the plan," Tracey snipped.

"FINE," Michael groaned, "It's the Vietnam war, except this time, we're the Vietnamese. Think about it, after World War II, the United States was a global super power, and yet, the Vietnamese held out and pushed them back. How did they do it you ask? Why, they used Guerrilla Warfare. If we use that tactic, we can start causing some mayhem. Now, admittedly, our opponents don't care much about things like supply lines, but what they do care about is submission. We need to give the people the courage not to just lay down and submit, so we need the media to spin victories for us like crazy. We can gather a good amount of these victories by taking back territories further away from London under Voldemort's control. Even if they are small victories, we still slowly remind the public that we aren't quitting, and if we aren't they can't either. Especially not when Hero of the Wizarding World, the Great Harry Potter is leading the charge."

A silence filled the room. Astoria bit back a smirk from the way Michael turned from person to person desperate for any type of comment. It was Harry he spoke first, "It's a plan certainly, but what if they call our bluff and invade London. I think we should proceed with Michael's plan, but I can't be apart of the fighting force. I need to be here in London, I'm their best deterrent we have from the forces sweeping London and finishing us off for good." Harry then turned to Charlie, "As for the Dragon Hunt, do it and take Fleur and Claire with you. They're both basically fire proof and stand the best chance. That does leave you without a partner of this raid Michael. Normally, I'd call out for Neville to join you, but, he needs to be at Hogwarts."

"It's fine, I can work with Sirius, Remus, and joy-kill over here for now," Michael said with a chuckle. "Won't be as much fun kicking death eater ass without you though, Potter."

"You'll survive," Harry said with a chuckle of his own.

"I'd like to join," Damyan called out. "I know I have no business as part of the Order, but I can't- I can't just sit back and do nothing. Even if it's just for however long I'm here. Let me fight with you. Let me be able to say I did something even when my country didn't."

"Not my call," Harry said with an even tone.

"Then whose is it?" Damyan barked.

Astoria swallowed at the way Harry pointed at her and felt her face heat up like an oven at his words, "Your girlfriend's."

(Harry P.O.V)

Harry said his goodbyes to his brother at the fireplace in which the green flames danced. He gave the former Ravenclaw his thanks, but Michael had just waved it away. A jest-filled promise not to let Claire miss him too much was all he asked for before he ducked under the smoke shelf and vanished. Parting ways with Michael was nothing new at this point, but the goodbye to his left had garnered his attention.

His younger sister shared a whisper with the blonde Bulgarian that left each of their faces red. Harry only smiled and nodded at the boy. Damyan was a good kid, and there were far worse men for Astoria to associate herself with. He too, wished him good fortune and watched the green flames consume the Minister's son.

A devilish smile crept across Harry's lips in the silence of the emptied room. Astoria looked to have taken a deep interest in the ground with the way she avoided his eyes. "So, what did you tell him that got you both so flustered?"

"I will murder you if you keep pushing this," Astoria growled.

Harry only laughed and pulled her close to him, "He's with Michael, he'll be fine."

"I know that. Merlin I'm not my sister whose going to jump into a panic everytime my boyfriend-,"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Harry said with a smirk.

"Oh I'm about to make Voldemort real jealous right now," Astoria hissed. Harry palmed her face playfully, and Astoria nipped at his hand. "I hate you so much."

"Oh, I know."

Astoria's stomach growled like a dog and, thankful for a chance to escape embarrassment, she marched into the kitchen. Harry's smile sank as Astoria vanished from view. His throat grew dry and the sound of Astoria's laugher faded from his mind. For a moment, guilt plagued his mind for his actions but there was no going back. He'd do what had to be done, and he'd pray for forgiveness later. There were no more clever plans of loopholes to exploit. He needed to be ready to give his life to stop Voldemort, and Harry had made that decision years ago.

As if the world read his mind, Amelia walked into the living room from the study. Susan had always been a bubly girl, but from Harry's time with the current Minister, he had no idea where it came from. There was a cold precision to everyone of Amelia's words or actions and now was no different. With a heavy sigh, she took her seat on an arm chair and floated a rolled up piece of parchment to Harry. He snatched the paper from the air and gazed quizzically at the older witch. "What is this?"

"A brief overview of the ritual," Amelia answered swiftly. "Read it, memorize it, obey it like its your God. You'll have to take some potions to be ready for it and I don't want any dumbassary on your part to screw this up. I know that you are making the ultimate sacrifice and for that I'm thankful, but I can't let my regret over your situation overshadow my duties to this nation."

Harry nodded and unrolled the parchment. His stomach churned at the ingredient list of the potions, but swallowed down his disgust. Amelia was right. There may have been a time where he could have put his self-interest before the cause, but that was over now. The situation had gotten far out of his control, now, he needed to end things once and for all. He clenched the scroll tightly in his hand and nodded his consent to the Minister for Magic. "Daphne, Astoria, Sirius, everyone, I'll end this, once and for all. I swear it."

A/N: Hey, so, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I do wish I could keep writing at a consistent rate but thanks for bearing with me on this nearly two year long journey. If you've enjoyed the journey so far, please be sure to Follow, Favorite, and Review! Until next time, Peace!