Author's Note: Here we are once again, The Rotten Writer returning with another, slightly delayed update. Things have been rough lately, but I'm trying gang, and making headway. I promised this story won't be abandoned and I'm sticking to it. Now if only I could get the same level of motivation for my publishable work, I'd be in business. But I'll get there.

It's been commented that Susan and Daphne don't seem to be developing as much as the other characters, and I'll admit, that this is true. It wasn't really intended to relegate them to the background so much but it kinda happened, and actually works a bit with some future plans I had, now I can work furthering their development into those plans and I think it'll all play out much better that way.

We're working our way through the year and I'm very excited for the later chapters coming up. I have some fun plans that I can't wait to work in. I'm looking at having to rewrite some of the later scenes that I've already written out. I actually have small scenes that came to me a while back written that take place in the summer before third year and fourth year, before and during the yule ball in fourth year, as well as one that takes place in summer before fifth year. Some of what's happened makes a bit of the dialogue in those scenes make no sense so I'll have to adjust, but it's going to be fun either way. I'm looking forward to peoples reactions to some of the adjustments Ihave planned.

Nothing else to say really this time so, onto the disclaimer.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing related to Harry Potter and doubt I ever will. Please no sue. Thank you.

Now, we move on to Chapter 22 of Soul Scars

Soul Scars Part 2

Darkness Within

by,

Rtnwriter

Weeks passed them by with the steady regularity they'd come to expect of the passage of time. Weeks where little more happened of any serious note. Each Sunday they met Madam Pomfrey but found no further changes to their bond, though Hermione did continue to share Harry's nightmares. Not all of them, but when she did, she found herself sitting in the common room on the sofa with him again. He would hold her, largely in silence, until they were both calm enough to return to bed.

Sometimes, Susan and Daphne would sit with them, offering their own comfort as best they could, and sometimes they wouldn't. The nightmares were inconvenient, and Hermione was not comfortable with the decrease in sleep that she was getting, but Harry saw an improvement in the amount of sleep he was getting overall. Hermione's presence was more soothing than anything else he'd found and while part of him wished to just sleep on the couch, holding her as they had that first night, he knew it wasn't a good idea. The rumors and gossip that would start would be insane and he cringed at the thought.

Homework steadily piled up, Quidditch practice for Harry started and with Slytherin's new brooms Wood had really gone off the deep end and had tried to schedule nightly practice sessions. It eventually got to the point that the entire team, minus Wood, had been forced to go to McGonagall to get her to talk to him about it. Practice days were reduced to three times a week after that.

A few days after Hermione first shared Harry's nightmare he received a response from Sharpshard. The goblins did have information on Soul Bonds, but they would need to come to the bank to meet with Sharpshard in person to retrieve it. The four of them had been both elated and disappointed at the letter. It was encouraging to find that there was some actual information available, but they didn't care for having to wait until the Christmas Break before they could retrieve it.

On the night before Halloween Daphne found herself lying awake in bed long after Hermione and Susan had already fallen asleep. She stared up at the darkened canopy above them as her thoughts spun in a dizzying circle through her head. Each person grows differently, she reminded herself as she glanced at the slender form sleeping next to her.

Hermione's face was serene, calm in her slumber. Gone was the constant worry and stress that the other girl put on herself. She worried about school work. She worried about tests. She worried about learning all she could and proving herself. Who she was trying to impress, Daphne wasn't entirely sure. And she worried about Harry. Daphne knew that she worried about her and Susan as well, but Harry, it seemed, would always be her focus. And wasn't that the same of all of them? Didn't she and Susan worry about Harry, and focus so much of their efforts on him and the bond they shared?

But the bond wasn't the same anymore. Harry and Hermione had grown closer, leaving her and Susan behind. Not entirely. Not really, even. But in a way they had. Daphne wasn't jealous of Hermione. She didn't begrudge the other girl the closeness she'd found with their shared bond mate. But it still hurt, somewhere deep inside that she didn't share in that closeness with them.

She sighed into the dark, turning back to stare up into the shadows once again instead of focusing on the girl beside her. A soft pain echoed in her chest and she shook her head, violently shoving certain thoughts from her mind.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

She started and sat up slightly, supporting her weight on her right elbow as she looked over Hermione's prone form into a pair of deep blue eyes framed by silken red strands. Susan's expression was knowing, understanding without pity.

"What?" she asked.

"It hurts," Susan whispered. "The last month, knowing how much closer they are, how they're growing into this bond faster than we are." Susan blinked slowly, her expressive eyes covered for a moment before opening again, shining wetly in the dim light. "They didn't do it on purpose. They're not leaving us behind. She isn't trying to take him from us or anything like that, but it still hurts."

Daphne wanted to deny it. She didn't want to admit to being selfish, to feeling left out of something that had truly been beyond their control. But she knew that Susan understood, and she would know if she wasn't truthful.

"Yes, it hurts. Not a lot, not terribly. But that's almost worse. It's a small hurt, but it hasn't gone away at all." But it was more than that. A thought whispered at the back of her mind. A night in front of the fire in the common room.

"What is it, Daphne?" Susan asked in a quiet whisper.

Daphne shook her head and lowered herself back to the bed, pulling the blanket back up around her from where it had been disturbed when she'd sat up.

"It's nothing, Susan," she lied. "I'm just worried. I hope… I hope we grow into this bond soon."

Daphne rolled over, putting her back to the other girls and closed her eyes, desperately hoping she'd fall asleep, and praying that Susan would let it go and not question her further.

#####

"I'm still not sure how we got dragged into that," Harry muttered the next evening as they were climbing the stairs out of the dungeons, chilled and hungry.

"You were stupid and promised Sir Nicholas that you'd attend his Deathday Party?" Neville offered and Harry grimaced.

"Well he did help keep me out of that detention with Filch."

"What I don't understand," Daphne huffed from behind them, "is how we got dragged into it as well. Only you said you'd go," she pointed out and Harry glanced over his shoulder at her. All day Daphne had seemed to be in a bad mood and he couldn't figure out what might have happened.

It was nothing truly overt, as she was so good about controlling her emotions and her expressions. But she'd behaved very coldly toward him and Hermione, and only showed a tiny bit of warmth when she spoke to Susan throughout the day. More than once he'd caught Susan giving the blond girl a concerned look when she was distracted or focusing on something else.

"While it may not have been exactly pleasant, you have to admit it was interesting," Hermione insisted. "I mean, how many living people get invited to an event like that?"

Beside her, Daphne let out a very unladylike snort. "Interesting is just one of a list of things that it was not," she muttered. "Annoying? Yes. Disgusting? Absolutely. But not interesting in the slightest."

"I kind of have to agree with Daphne," Susan cut in before Hermione could mount a protest. "We're alive. A Deathday party is no place for living people." They'd come to a stop on the stairs as Harry and Neville kept walking. Hermione had turned to face Daphne, a frown on her face and a wave of irritation rolling across the bond.

"It's a fascinating look into ghost behavior," she insisted. "And just because it wasn't really set up for living people doesn't mean it's not a learning opportunity that should be taken."

Daphne glared at Hermione and Susan looked back and forth between the two apprehensively.

"We didn't belong there, Hermione!" Daphne practically yelled at the other girl, startling her back a step at her vehemence. Daphne rarely raised her voice. "I'm cold. I'm tired. I'm hungry." She glanced down at her watch and stifled a groan. "And by now the feast is probably over. We're going to have to go by the kitchens if we want to get anything to-"

"What was that?"

The girls stopped their growing argument and turned to look up toward where Harry and Neville were standing near the top of the stairs. He had his back to them, head cocked to the side as if listening to something.

Susan opened her mouth to speak when he suddenly blurted out, "I hear it again!" and took off running. In a heartbeat he'd vanished into the hall, leaving the four of them to scramble after him, the girls argument all but forgotten in the moment.

Harry had always been fast on his feet, what with the years of practice he'd received courtesy of his cousin. But he'd only gotten faster after three months of steady physical training. The girls were quickly left behind with only Neville even barely able to keep up with him since he'd started joining Harry in his exercise routine after the first couple of days training with them.

Harry, of course, noticed none of this. His nightmares flashed through his mind. Nightmares where that hideous voice hunted his girls. No, he growled mentally. I will not let you hurt them!

He'd worn his dragon hide boots that day, the same boots he'd worn at the start of the summer when he visited Gringotts and Sharpshard had handed him that first letter from his mother. They were nearly completely silent against the stones beneath him, but even if each step had echoed like a gunshot it was doubtful that he would have noticed. His ears were filled with the sound of that voice as he ran, it blocked out everything else.

"… Rip… tear… kill…"

"No, no, no!" he snapped. "Where are you, you damn…" The voice sounded like it was moving away, moving up. Was it some kind of phantom or something? Something that could move through walls?

"This way!" he shouted, and took off running down a side corridor. Neville groaned just as he reached the juncture where Harry had paused and glanced back to see the girls running along behind him. Steeling himself he sprinted after his friend.

"… Soo hungry… for so long…"

"Not gonna happen," Harry snarled.

"…kill …time to kill…"

Harry growled under his breath and bolted up a set of stairs into the Entrance Hall. He dashed up the marble staircase to the first floor with Neville clattering behind him and the girls closing in.

"Harry," Neville gasped as he stopped next to the young Potter where he stood, stock still, at the top of the stairs. "What're we-"

"SHH!"

Harry strained his ears, listening carefully. From the floor above, faint, and growing fainter still, he heard it. "…I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"

"It's going to kill someone," he hissed, and ignoring the girls pleas to wait and Neville's confused expression, he ran up the next flight of steps, taking the steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own breathing. He hurtled around the whole of the second floor, his friend and bond mates panting behind him, not stopping until the turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Harry, what was that all about?" Neville asked, wiping a sheen of sweat from his face with the sleeve of his robes.

"Look!"

The turned, and followed Daphne's pointing finger to where she was indicating down the corridor. Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, wands in hand, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been slathered onto the wall between two windows, shimmering in the dim light cast by the torches that lined the corridors.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

"There's something… hanging there, underneath," Susan murmured, her face pale and her long hair sticking to the side of her face and neck where it had come loose from her ponytail.

They slid closer, and Harry would have slipped if it wasn't for his boots when they hit a large puddle of water on the floor. He motioned to it, hissing to them to be careful and inched closer toward the message, eyes fixed on the dark shadow beneath it. All five of them realized what it was nearly at the same time and leapt backward with a splash.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket, eyes wide and staring.

They were silent for a time before Harry suddenly muttered, "we should get out of here."

"But… shouldn't we try to help?" Neville asked and Harry shook his head.

"Trust me, we do not want to be seen here. I've seen it enough times. No one's going to listen to anything and we're guilty until proven innocent," he said, a touch bitterly.

It was, however, far too late for that. A rumbling sound, as of a distant thunder, told them the feast had ended. In no time the sounds of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs reached them and the next moment, students were crashing into the passage where they stood from both ends. The chatter, bustle, and noise of the many students died suddenly as the people at the front of either crowd spotted the hanging cat. The five of them stood alone, in the middle of the corridor as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward for a glimpse of the disturbing sight.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware!" a voice shouted. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Harry turned, a snarl on his lips as Draco Malfoy pushed his way to the front of the crowd, his cold grey eyes unusually alive and his normal pale features flushed as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

#####

"I didn't know that Filch was a squib," Daphne remarked from her seat in front of the Headmasters desk.

"Well, it certainly explains a few things about him," Susan offered, a frown marring her features from a seat beside her blond bond mate.

Neville sat between Susan and Hermione, who had moved her chair a foot or two further away. The earlier argument between the girls hadn't been as forgotten as the Longbottom heir had hoped and the girls still seemed, at best, miffed, with each other.

"How do you mean?" he asked, when neither Hermione or Harry offered up anything in response.

"Well, if he can't do magic, I'd imagine he must be rather bitter working in a school filled with kids that take being able to use magic for granted. Only muggleborn or raised students would be at all in awe of magic when they first come here, and even most of them start to take it as commonplace as time goes on."

"Then why work in a magic school?"

Susan shrugged. She had no answer for that so couldn't offer anything to explain it.

They lapsed back into silence and Neville glanced to Harry who stood with his back to them, staring at the little whirling silver instruments that dotted the shelves and tables in the office. Neville really didn't know what to think of what had happened. He hadn't been able to keep up with Harry on his run through the castle. But he thought he should have been able to hear whatever voice it was that Harry claimed to have heard.

He didn't think his friend was lying, but it worried him what other explanation there could be. After Malfoy's shout in the hall where Neville'd been forced to grab Harry by the arm to prevent the other boy from physically lunging at the Malfoy heir, the teachers had responded relatively quickly to the disturbance. Lockhart, McGonagall, Snape, Filch, and the Headmaster himself had converged on the hall. The staff arrived to find the caretaker accusing Harry of cursing his cat, all while screaming that Harry'd found something that told them Filch was a squib.

Quickly, the students were shuffled along to their dorms, Malfoy still looking quite pleased with himself. For some reason, Snape, of all people, had come to their defense, pointing out that it was unlikely for second year students to be capable of doing something like petrifying a cat. For petrified she was, not dead as she'd appeared, something Neville had been grateful for, even as much as he disliked the old caretaker and his cat, he didn't want the animal dead.

After a discussion in the Defense professors office they'd been ordered to the Headmaster's office and told to wait. Twenty minutes later they were still waiting and Neville was starting to wonder how long they would be left there. He really was hungry and was hoping to get down to the kitchens for a something to eat before bed.

As if the thought had summoned him, the door behind them swung open and the Headmaster entered the office with McGonagall and Snape behind him. Neville saw Harry stiffen but the other boy didn't turn, remaining focused on the items he'd been studying as the door closed with a quiet click and the Headmaster moved around his desk to sink into his large, overstuffed chair with an audible sigh.

"Well," he said in a soothing tone of voice, "this has been an unusual evening."

The girls shrugged and Neville made no response as Harry continued to keep his back to the room at large.

"I would like it, if you might explain to me, again, how exactly you wound up in that particular corridor this evening," the Headmaster asked and four of them exchanged glances but no one spoke immediately.

"Why bother?"

Four students and three professors turned their attention to the dark haired individual standing to one side. Harry hadn't raised his voice, but there was an undercurrent of anger running through those two simple words that caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"What was that, Mister Potter?" the Headmaster asked, mildly.

"It's Lord Potter," Harry snapped, and turned to face them, his eyes hardened chips of emerald in a face that could have been carved from stone for all the emotion his expression conveyed. "It's been impressed upon me, many times since the school year started, that the professors in this school would use my title in a professional setting. I'm still not comfortable with it, but as this is an official school matter I'd appreciate it if you, of all people, didn't pretend to have any right to familiarity with me, Headmaster."

"Just like your father," Snape spat, obsidian eyes glaring daggers at Harry. "You have no right to speak to the Headmaster like that you arrogant little-"

"That is more than enough, Severus," the Headmaster cut him off, his eyes never wavering from Harry's. "I apologize, Lord Potter, you are, of course, correct. You appear to have some issue with me, which I will gladly discuss with you momentarily. But if we could handle the events of this evening first, that would be appreciated."

Harry continued to glare at the old wizard while his friend and bond mates looked back and forth between the two in varying degrees of shock. Neville hadn't been privy to any of the signs of Harry's anger toward the Headmaster and couldn't understand where it was coming from while the girls were getting conflicting and wildly fluctuating emotions flooding across the bond. Anger, of course, mixed with fear, pain, and a deep sorrow.

After nearly a minute of silence Harry finally nodded his head, once.

"What did you mean by 'why bother?', Lord Potter?"

"I meant what I said. Why bother explaining anything? From my experience people will believe what they want to believe, so what point is there in trying to explain anything when you've all come to your own conclusions already?"

"That is a failing of human nature, to be sure," Dumbledore admitted. "We tend to have expectations based on our experiences in life, much as the expectation you just admitted to based on your experiences. I have personally found it better to attempt to withhold coming to any sort of conclusions before I have gathered as much information as I possibly can about a situation. However, I cannot do that if the information is not provided when I seek it. In that case, you would have no one but yourself to blame for any conclusions I may draw."

Harry considered that for a moment before slowly nodding again and he finally moved over to stand near the desk, ignoring the seat that was waiting for him. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath before launching into the story.

"We were attending Sir Nicholas' Deathday party in the dungeons," he explained. "It wasn't much of a party, to be honest, since we were the only living people there. We'd just decided to leave since we were all getting hungry and hoped to make the end of the feast when I thought I heard something."

"And what might that have been?" Dumbledore asked.

"A voice, maybe," Harry said with a shrug. "I couldn't really make it out but something didn't sound right to me. I thought maybe someone was in trouble so I ran off, trying to find it and ended up in that corridor."

"And where were your… friends, while you were chasing this phantom voice?" Snape demanded, glowering at the five of them from a spot against the wall to their left.

"We were chasing after him," Neville spoke up, shrinking back from the Potions Masters glare as it shifted specifically to him. "He went tearing off and we were right behind him."

"So you all arrived at the scene together?" Dumbledore asked and the girls nodded.

"No." Harry shook his head, ignoring how his bond mates stared at him. "I'm faster than they are, but Neville was only a few seconds behind me and the girls were just behind him."

"So you were the first on the scene, then."

"I was. But I didn't see anything other than what we found. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the hall and other than the writing, that large puddle of water, and Mrs. Norris…" Harry shrugged again and crossed his arms over his chest, his hands tightening on the opposite arm in a white knuckled grip.

"What do you think could have happened, Professor?" Daphne asked after several minutes passed and Harry didn't appear inclined to say anything more.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking pensive.

"I cannot say, with any assurance, Miss Greengrass," he admitted. "As much as it pains me to admit, but even with my many years of experience and accumulated knowledge, I cannot, and do not, know everything there is to know about magic and what it is capable of doing. Suffice it to say, it is apparent this was a deliberate attack. Mrs. Norris is alive, and unharmed if, of course, in a state of petrification. Luckily, it is reversible, it will simply take some time for the Mandrakes that Professor Sprout is growing this year to mature so they can be used in the curative."

He glanced at a clock sitting on his desk before turning his attention back to them. "It is getting quite late, so I shall not keep you any longer. Professor McGonagall, if you could please escort your lions back to their common room, that would be much appreciated. I will instruct the castle elves to send up something for the five of you to eat sine you missed this evenings feast."

The recognized the clear dismissal for what it was and Neville and the girls stood without a word and made their way toward the door.

"Lord Potter," Dumbledore called out just before he followed them down the spinning staircase. "My door is always open to the students in this school. At some time in the near future, if you would like to discuss what has you so angry with me, I am at your disposal. Simply inform the gargoyle, and if I am present, I will make myself available to you."

Harry paused for a moment, but said nothing, and simply continued on his way down the stairs, letting the door swing shut behind him.

#####

As the six of them, five students and one professor made their way through the castle's darkened corridors, Minerva McGonagall couldn't help but think over everything that had been learned and discussed that evening. The attack on Filch's cat worried her, and the fact that five of her cubs had discovered it pushed that worry to new heights. When she added in the anger Harry was directing at the Headmaster, she was starting to feel that this was going to be another year filled with secrets and strange going's on in the school.

"Lord Potter," she spoke up suddenly, stopping the entire group while they were still a distance away from the portrait of the Fat Lady that opened into the Gryffindor common room. "I believe I understand where this anger at the Headmaster is coming from, and no," she added. "I won't be questioning you about it. Suffice it to say if it is for the reason I believe it to be then I would like to inform you that I understand, and agree wholeheartedly with your reasoning. I even warned the Headmaster about it last year. I told him, that one day you would learn of this, and I believed that, if you inherited your mothers temper, that it would not be a good day to be Albus Dumbledore.

"I would like to invite you, and anyone else you wish to bring, to tea again, this Saturday. We already discussed that this year, and I apologize for not extending the invitation sooner. I… I would like to discuss this particular issue more with you at that time, if you're willing."

Harry considered that for a moment before he nodded. "I would like that, Professor," he admitted before glancing to the girls as he let out a pent up breath. "I think I have a few explanations to give before then, however. I'm fairly sure we'll be there, but at the very least, I will be in attendance. After dinner on Saturday?"

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as she resumed escorting them to the portrait. "That would be more than acceptable, Lord Potter." She gave the password and as the portrait swung open she wished them a pleasant evening and reminded them all that the hour was growing late and they should soon be seeking their beds before she turned and made her way to her own quarters, leaving her students behind in the safety of Gryffindor Tower.

They quickly weaved their way through the collections of tables, chairs, and sofas that dotted the room to arrive at their spots by the fireplace. The girls dropped into their seats on the sofa while Harry stood behind his usual chair, his hands on the back of it as if seeking support when he noticed Neville hovering nearby, unsure if he was meant to be included.

"Come on and take a seat, Nev," Harry offered after a few seconds of thought.

"I don't need to-"

"No," Harry cut him off. "No you don't need to. But you said it yourself. We do trust you, Neville, and we value your friendship. I know it can't be easy being our friend with so many things being kept from you… and maybe… maybe I need to trust a little more. I…" he trailed off, a slightly pained expression stealing over his face and Susan leaned forward, catching his attention.

"Harry, are you sure you want to tell him, now? Not that we don't trust you, Neville, that's not the issue in the slightest. Just there are some things that are hard to talk about."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Susan. I'm sure. As sure as I can be at least," he said while Neville hesitantly moved closer and sank into a seat so they were all facing Harry.

His hands worried at the back of the chair, fingers flexing and relaxing and his palms sliding back and forth across the upholstered surface as he thought of how to explain.

He decided to start with Neville.

"Nev," he said, causing the other boy to focus all of his attention on him, dark eyes serious in a face that had lost much of its baby fat over their recent time in physical training, making him appear older than his twelve years. "You've seen enough, heard enough, you know my life before here hasn't been… hasn't been pleasant."

Neville nodded, unwilling to risk breaking the delicate atmosphere by speaking.

"I grew up with my aunt and uncle and they didn't treat me well."

The girls all scoffed, nearly in unison as Daphne glowered and Hermione muttered darkly under her breath, but Harry ignored their reactions, keeping his focus on his only other close friend.

"That's an understatement," he admitted. "I have…" Here he trailed off and his jaw worked up and down several times but he couldn't force the words out, couldn't bring himself to speak, yet again, of things he wished he didn't ever even have to think about, much less discuss with others. Harry shot a pleading look in the girls direction and Daphne took up the silent request. She might have had some issues of her own going on, but she wouldn't, couldn't, deny any of her bond mates help when it was needed.

"Harry has scars, Neville," she said, drawing his attention away from Harry and onto her. She kept her voice even and controlled, using every ounce of her training to control her emotions leaving her in full Ice Queen mode. Her face blank, eyes cold. "He has a lot of scars and he got them from his relatives. His treatment growing up in that house was reprehensible at best. We don't honestly know exactly what happened to him, he hasn't even been able to speak about it to us, yet." I hope it's 'yet' and not 'never', she thought. "I'm sure you can understand now why some things haven't been spoken of around you. It isn't that we don't trust and value you and your friendship, it's just been too hard."

Neville's eyes had hardened, that same steel that Harry remembered from the night they went after the Stone entering his gaze and he nodded. "I understand completely," he said. "Please, don't think anything of it. I've already said I understood and I still do, even more so now." He looked over at Harry who had a white knuckled grip on the back of his chair. "They've been dealt with?" he asked in a cold, angry tone that they'd never heard from the usually amiable young scion.

Harry nodded.

"Good." The satisfaction was clearly evident in Neville's voice and some of the tension went out of Harry's body. Not all, but some. "You're never going back there, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Susan's aunt has taken over as my legal guardian. Even if they weren't in jail I wouldn't have to go back there ever again."

"You're my friend, Harry. And you've been a good one, but I think you're missing some basic understanding of what that means." Neville barked out a laugh for a moment and offered a wry smile. "Not as though I'm some great expert at friendships myself. You guys are my first real friends. But to me friends means we look out for each other, and we don't judge. I can guess how difficult this all has to be but, I just want you to try to keep in mind that I'll never judge you. Wherever a Potter goes, a Longbottom stands beside them. I made my intentions clear that first day on the train last year. If you ever need or want to talk, you can trust me that nothing we discuss will ever go any further unless I have your permission."

"That much, I haven't ever doubted, Nev," Harry told him, gratefully. "Like I said, it's not a matter of trusting you. I just can't talk about it, yet. Not really. I had to once already for the investigation against my relatives but the next day was that disastrous match against Hufflepuff."

"That's why you were so…" Neville trailed off, not really sure what word to use.

"I was a wreck, plain and simple. I know I've got to get through it eventually, I just haven't been able to face it yet."

"All right, Harry," Susan said as Harry finally came around and sank into his seat. "That's Neville brought up to speed. Now can you please explain what the animosity for the Headmaster is?"

Harry took a deep breath and held it for a moment before he let it out in an explosive sigh and decided to just rip off the plaster. "Until I took up my ring and became Lord Potter and emancipated, Dumbledore was apparently my Magical Guardian."

He waited then with baited breath for the inevitable explosion and when it came it was not from the direction he expected it to be. Harry expected Daphne to react first and with the most hostility given the little he knew of her treatment growing up. He might have expected Hermione for her very passionate defenses of him thus far.

"THAT WHISKERED WANKER! I SWEAR I'LL STRANGLE HIM WITH HIS OWN BLOODY BEARD!"

Harry was surprised when Susan Amelia Bones completely and utterly lost her shit a mere handful of seconds after he spoke. She was out of her seat and making her way across the common room, her wand already in hand, before Harry caught up to her and wrapped both arms around her waist from behind, lifting her bodily off the ground as she kicked her feet and struggled in his grip.

"Let go of me, Harry!" she shrieked. "I'm going to kill him! I swear to Merlin he's going to wish for someone to hit him with the cruciatus by the time I'm finished with his wrinkled old arse!"

"He's not worth that kind of reaction, Susan," Daphne said in a quiet tone that nonetheless managed to cut through the redheads ranting and silenced her immediately. "There are better ways to deal with Albus Dumbledore than flying off and trying to hex him into the next decade."

Harry set a much calmer, or at least not ranting and raving, Susan down on her feet and led her back to her spot on the sofa next to Hermione who wrapped one arm around the other girl and offered what comfort she could.

"Would someone tell me what that means?" she asked, hating being the only one in the room that didn't appear to know a piece of information. The look on Neville's face when Harry spoke that one sentence had told her that he knew what it meant as well and she really did not like feeling out of the loop.

"A student's magical guardian is in charge of decisions in regards to the magical world. In the case of an orphan, like Harry, that includes choosing where the child is sent to live," Daphne explained. "Bottom line, Dumbledore is the one that sent Harry to that house. He's, at best, indirectly responsible for everything that happened to him while he was living there."

"And you're not ranting like Susan because…" Hermione asked. Harry was quite happy to note that he could feel honest curiosity from her, not accusation or anger. At least, no anger directed at their blond bond mate.

"I much prefer the philosophy of getting even over getting angry. Getting angry is a waste of time and energy when we could better spend that time plotting how we're going to make that shriveled old bastard pay for what he's done."

If they hadn't been able to feel the anger rolling off of Daphne, the cold, emotionless tone in which she'd delivered her last statement would have really worried Harry, Susan, and Hermione. As it was Neville found himself feeling completely terrified of the blond girl while her bond mates simply gave a feral grin in response.

"I've been trying to think of something to do but I haven't been able to come up with anything that would really work, or I think would be appropriate," Harry admitted.

"There's no such thing as truly appropriate under circumstances like this," Daphne told him firmly. "What he did. Sending you there. Obviously never checking on you, at least I hope he never checked up on you."

"You hope he didn't?" Neville asked in confusion. "Why would you hope for that?"

"Because the alternative is that he did check and either he was fooled by some muggles with no magical power of their own, or he checked and knew how Harry was being treated but did nothing anyway and just left him there to suffer."

Daphne's eyes narrowed dangerously and Neville gulped. "If I ever find out that Dumbledore actually knew what was going on but failed to act, I swear I will make it my life's mission to make the remainder of his as close to a living hell as I can possibly arrange."

#####

For the next few days, all anyone in the castle could talk about was the attack, or so it seemed to Harry and the others. Everywhere they turned whispered conversations were interrupted as they approached and strange looks were cast in their direction. Filch lurked in the hall near the scene of the crime, eyes red from crying and in a particularly foul mood as he handed out detentions for the most inane things.

Ginny Weasley had taken the attack particularly hard and Ron explained to them that she'd always been a great lover of cats. They'd shrugged that off, for the most part, as they had greater concerns on their minds.

When they met with their Head of House for tea that Saturday, it was a group of five that entered the office. Hermione was struggling with an ingrained respect for authority, but after discussing the situation, she found herself more than willing to embrace her anger with the old wizard. "After all," Susan had pointed out, "you have no respect whatsoever for Lockhart and he's in a position of authority." It was a considerably stronger blow to them all however to learn that McGonagall had been there the night he was left on the Dursley's doorstep. They were only slightly mollified by the knowledge that she had vehemently protested his being left there, but she hadn't actually done anything about it other than to mount a verbal protest.

They'd left the office before finishing their tea and Harry had given no indication yet that he intended to return another time though the professor let them know that it was a standing invitation should they decide to join her at another time.

A little more than a week after the incident, several events seemed to happen almost all at once.

First, for the first time that anyone could remember, a student raised their hand and interrupted Binns during one of his monotonous lectures. Hermione questioned the ghost professor about the Camber of Secrets and every student had come instantly awake, or been shaken by their neighbors as Binns stared uncomprehendingly at his students. Little information was gleaned from the discussion, save the story that Salazar Slytherin had built a hidden chamber, somewhere within the castle, and even after his famous break from the other founders, it had never been located. The conversations whipping around the castle after that then included conjecture and guesses as to what the 'horror' that Slytherin could have left behind in the Chamber might be. While others wondered, Harry ignored it in favor of noticing a strange trend amongst some of the other students.

It had started that morning, before class, when Justin Finch-Fletchley had turned and walked away from Harry in the library. Harry noticed other students seeming to avoid him or keep their distance from him and he couldn't understand what it was that was causing the strange behavior, but he definitely didn't care for it.

The third thing was Susan receiving a letter from her aunt. Amelia wrote in response to a letter they'd sent out the morning after the attack, detailing what'd happened, and what little they knew. Harry even agreed to Susan telling Amelia about the voice he'd heard, even though he hadn't mentioned it to anyone other than his bond mates and Neville. She didn't know what to make of the situation, but she reminded them of Dobby's warning, something that hadn't been far from their minds, and promised that she would do her best to look into the situation. Unfortunately, there was little she could do, unless the Headmaster contacted her offices. She was unable to simply barge into the school and demand to conduct an investigation. So far, she'd heard nothing from the old wizard, but promised that she would contact him and ask after the situation. In the meantime, she begged them to stick together and to be cautious.

That afternoon, after classes, Hermione approached Lockhart and, with a bit of flattery that left her feeling nauseous, she got a pass to the restricted section and met the rest of them in the common room just before dinner.

"Polyjuice potion," she said, laying a piece of parchment on the table near their seats as the rest of them gave her a blank look. "It's a potion that will let whoever drinks it take on the appearance of someone else for an hour," she explained. "If we could make ourselves look like a few of the Slythherins, we might be able to get into their common room and ask some questions."

"Who is it you want to question?" Neville asked as he read through the potion ingredients and brewing procedure.

"Malfoy," she said darkly. "He was entirely too pleased with that awful message on the wall. I'd be willing to bet he's either the heir himself, or he at least knows who is."

"Do we really want to go looking for trouble though?" Daphne asked. "This is a complicated looking potion, it'd take… at least a month to brew, and that's if we can get all the ingredients in a timely manner."

"I know. But I want to know what he knows.

"Doesn't look like we've got a lot of other options at the moment. I don't like just sitting around doing nothing so I say full steam ahead," Harry said after he'd looked over the potion as well. "My only question is it should be ready just before the Christmas break, were we still planning on going home for the break or should we stay here and take the opportunity to try and get into the Slytherin common room?"

"Let's worry about it when it get's closer," Susan decided. "We don't even know if Malfoy is planning on staying over for Christmas this year. If he decides to go home then it's a moot point, right?"

Agreed they set the potion aside as Daphne and Hermione started cataloguing what ingredients they would need to acquire and the others put away their belongings so they could head down to the Great Hall for dinner.

#####

"Are you ever going to tell us what's been bothering you?"

Daphne forced herself not to sigh and didn't turn to look at the girl sitting next to her either. She knew it wouldn't do her ay good, but she still did it, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on their bond mate as he flew a few laps around the pitch before the start of the game.

Lee Jordan was commenting again, but she couldn't focus on what was being said with Hermione trying to burn a hole in the side of her head just with the heat of her gaze alone.

"Drop it," Daphne finally said. "Nothing is bothering me."

"You're lying, Daphne."

She could hear the hurt in Hermione's voice as well as feel it across their bond. They had discovered, through a bit of experimentation, that Hermione had lost any ability to suppress or hide her emotions from the rest of them, just like Harry had. Whatever the growing should in each of them signified, it was obvious that as the bond grew it would prevent them from hiding anything from each other. With their emotions permanently on display, with Harry and Hermione sharing dreams and nightmares, and who knew what else would happen as they got closer, eventually they would have no secrets from each other.

Daphne really didn't know how she felt about that.

"Yes," she admitted. "You're right, I am lying." Her eyes tracked Harry as he dodged a bludger. "Maybe I should have said, 'I don't want to talk about it'," she added as he dodged another bludger and her eyes followed the animated iron ball as it turned in a wide, graceful arc and headed straight at Harry again.

"Daphne," Hermione sighed out. "We keep telling Harry that he can talk to us, but it goes for all of us as well." She reached out and took Daphne's hand in her own as, in the sky, one of the Weasley twins slammed the bludger away with a tremendous swing of his bat. The bludger immediately swung back and right toward Harry again.

"Something's wrong," Daphne muttered.

"That's good," Hermione said encouragingly. "I want us all to be able to talk to each other-"

"No, Hermione, something is wrong," Daphne snapped as she cut the other girl off and pointed in Harry's direction. Hermione turned and looked up at him just in time to see him duck the bludger yet again.

The rain started to fall, quickly building up into a steady downpour.

#####

In the air, Harry was struggling to dodge the bludger, search for the snitch, and ignore Malfoy's taunts, all while the twins hovered around him, trying to keep the bludger from taking his head off.

Dammit, he thought. I can't see anything with them in the way all the time.

He took a quick lap around the pitch to give himself some room to breathe, and to think.

#####

As soon as the rain started, the girls and Neville had cast warming and water repelling charms around themselves.

"What is going on with that bludger?" Susan asked. She'd been more focused on what Hermione had been saying, curious to see if Daphne would finally admit to the hurt she was feeling.

"It's locked onto Harry, somehow," Neville. "Think the Slytherins had anything to do with it?"

"Could they have?"

#####

"Not possible," Wood reluctantly admitted down on the ground. They'd called a time out, but even now the bludger pursued Harry with a single minded determination that kept the twins hovering around the rest of the team to run interference while Harry was surrounded by the others. "I'd love to blame them, but between games the balls are kept locked up in Hooch's office. There's no way the snakes could have done anything to it.

Over Wood's shoulder, Harry saw Madam Hooch beginning to approach them.

"Look, what happens if we stop the match to request an inquiry?" Harry asked quickly.

"We have to forfeit the match."

"Forfeit because someone sabotaged a bludger?" Harry shook his head, rain flying off of his matted hair with the motion. "No way, we're not giving Slytherin a win. Not like that." He wiped some water off of his face and looked around at the team, noting the twins leaning in his direction to listen in. "All right, the only way I'm going to catch the snitch at this rate is if I swallow the damn thing again. Gred and Forge should cover the rest of the team, leave this bludger to me."

#####

Hermione groaned and passed a hand over her face. "Oh no, he's going to do something stupid, isn't he?" she asked and, as one, Susan and Daphne nodded.

"What makes her say that?" Neville asked, leaning close to Susan.

She turned to him and whispered in his ear, "he's angry. Not pissed off or furious, but definitely angry. He's also feeling a fierce kind of determination, like he wants to prove something."

At that moment the team shot into the air, just before Hooch reached them and a redhead knocked the bludger away for the last time. Harry shot by them and the girls could all feel an apologetic sensation flooding them as he passed on his way toward the commenters box where Professor McGonagall always did her best to curtail Jordan's more colorful commentary.

"Professor!" he yelled as he shot past, the bludger hot on his heels. She stood, ignoring Lee Jordan who had stopped commenting and turned the microphone in their direction as Harry looped around and made another pass. "Permission to never say never?" he called and she grabbed the microphone.

"Permission granted, Lord Potter."

The words echoed around the field, and while the vast majority of those watching had no clue what was going on, Harry grinned and his eyes hardened, focusing on a new goal while the girls groaned in the stands, leaving Neville staring at them in confusion.

With that, Harry led the bludger on a whirlwind chase through the sky. He dove on the Slytherin chasers, buzzed their keeper, and even succeeded in knocking one of their beaters off his broom from ten feet off the ground. All the while the bludger remained on his tail and the Gryffindor team slowly started to recover points with Fred and George no longer focusing on protecting their Seeker.

"What're you up to scar head?" Malfoy bellowed as he came in next to Harry and tried to shove the Gryffindor off course.

"Just looking to win, blondie!" Harry called back and suddenly dove for the ground. Half the crowd screamed as Harry dropped out of the sky, lying almost flat on his broom, eyes narrowed against the wind and the rain as the ground loomed closer and closer.

At the last instant he pulled up and felt his toes skim across the wet grass as, behind him, a dull 'whump' echoed through the air as the bludger slammed full force into the pitch. An instant later it'd pulled itself from the hole it'd dug into the ground and resumed pursuit.

Of course, that was when Harry made his first mistake. When he came out of the dive and headed back for the sky he caught a glimpse of Malfoy, hovering where Harry had first gone into his dive and there, right above his head and slightly to the left, hung the snitch, glinting dully in the overcast light.

WHAM.

In that moment of indecision, that second of surprise to see the snitch just hanging there, the bludger had caught up and slammed into Harry's left elbow. Pain blossomed brilliantly in the extremity as Harry felt the joint break and he bit back a scream. Below him he dimly heard three other voices raised in pain and fear and he had to fight to focus beyond the rush of emotions coming to him from the girls.

Not now, he thought. Please, I need to focus.

The rush of emotions faded some, not entirely, but some and he opened his eyes just in time to swerve as the bludger streaked through the air just where his face had been a moment before.

He held onto the broom tightly with his right hand, left arm dangling uselessly at his side. Through a haze of pain, rain, and the muted wall of fear coming from the girls he shot into the air straight at Malfoy's sneering face.

The blond's eyes shot wide with fear and he dropped out of the sky, looking up just in time to see Harry's right hand close around the glimmering snitch and Lee Jordan screamed his head off into the microphone that Gryffindor had won. Harry potter caught the snitch!

And the bludger came back for another pass.

Heading toward the ground, Harry couldn't stop the scream that ripped from his lungs as the bludger smashed into his right ankle and a loud crack suddenly echoed through the air around him. The crowd fell silent save for a handful of voices screaming his name.

Come on Fred, George, anybody, he thought.

His head swung back and forth, searching in vain for any sign of the bludger as he reached the ground and landed awkwardly on one foot.

WHAM.

Just as he tried to lift his injured leg over the broom the bludger came flying in out of nowhere and slammed into the back of his right shoulder sending him spinning like a top to smash into the grass beneath him on his back. He groaned and opened his eyes to see the bludger dropping right toward his head just before blackness overtook him.

#####

"He should have been brought directly to me!" Madam Pomfrey raged while holding up the sad, limp remainder of what had once been a working arm. Harry was lying once again in one of the Hospital Wing beds with his girls, Neville, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team huddled around the bed.

She glared at the team, who all took a giant step backwards to give them more room and to avoid the mediwitches wrath.

"What the hell happened?"

They turned their attention to Harry who was slowly opening his eyes and looking blearily around the room. "Awww… shite. Madam Pomfrey is gonna kill me."

"Not, just as yet, Lord Potter," the mediwitch answered with a huff. "But I am seriously beginning to consider putting a plaque on that bed and reserving it just for you!"

Half of the group laughed, a little warily, but it was still funny. Neville and the girls did not laugh. They knew just how accurate a statement that was and Neville was beginning to wonder just what damage was being done to the girls by Harry's frequent injuries.

"So what happened?" he asked as he tried to sit up but found that his left arm wouldn't move.

"Lockhart happened," Neville offered.

"From my scans, best I can determine, your left elbow and right ankle were broken by a hard blow from a blunt object, your right shoulder was dislocated, again, but your actual shoulder blade was shattered. The bone shards did quite a bit of damage to the surrounding muscles and tissue so in that respect at least he wasn't completely useless."

"He vanished the broken bones, didn't he?"

"Completely," Madam Pomfrey confirmed.

"Skele-gro?"

She nodded again and Harry sighed. "God I hate that stuff.

The team exchanged glances at that, confused expressions on their faces. When had Harry had experience with a bone regrowing potion? They wondered, but there was no answer forthcoming and when Harry looked in their direction the twins saw the walls come down. His face became expressionless and his eyes cold as he realized he had a larger audience then he'd originally thought.

"You would be in a significant amount of pain right now if I hadn't managed to get a pain reliever down your throat while you were out, the damaged tissue around the shattered scapula would be bad and I'm going to have to leave the shoulder dislocated for the moment as well until after the scapula heals. I've been forced to use a few extra charms on you Lord Potter to ensure nothing causes any trouble while you're healing."

He tried to move again but found that he was stuck to the bed with what felt like a sticking charm. He couldn't move his right leg at all and could actually only move his left leg and his head.

"Is that why I can't move at all?" he asked, a tinge of fear in his voice.

"Yes, it is," she answered, her own voice and her expression filled with sympathy. "I understand how disconcerting and uncomfortable that has got to be but if you move too much you can really risk doing yourself greater damage.

"And no chance of a dreamless sleep, huh?"

She shook her head. "I am sorry, Lord Potter, but no. The two are not meant to be mixed. The consequences are unpredictable but none of the observed effects are good in any way." She turned to the small table sitting by the side of the bed and picked up a goblet, already filled with a steaming potion before she leaned over and tilted his head up to help him drink. "Down the hatch," she muttered softly and he obligingly gulped it down as quickly as he could, shuddering as it burned its way down his throat.

He gratefully took several long sips of water to wash the taste from his mouth and cool the burning in his throat and sighed when he was able to let his head fall back on the pillow.

"Now," Madam Pomfrey said, back to her stern and uncompromising persona as she turned to the rest of them. "You can all stay for a while, half an hour or so at most. Lord Potter is going to have a rough enough evening as it is so he'll be needing his rest. Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass, and Miss Bones, if I could speak to the three of you for a moment?"

Without waiting for an answer she turned and walked away to her office, leaving the girls looking after her with confused expressions etched across their faces.

"We'll be right back, Harry," Hermione told him and leaned down to kiss his cheek quickly, followed by the other girls as they followed after the mediwtich.

Harry didn't have enough time to become concerned over Madam Pomfrey asking to speak to them as he was immediately accosted by the rest of his team, still soaking wet from the rain and filthy as they crowded around his bed.

"Insane flying, Harry," Alicia Spinnet gushed, beaming at him with a wide smile on her face. "Absolutely barmy, but you got the job done, that was amazing."

The accolades continued with even the twins complimenting him on using the bludger to knock one of the Slytherin Beaters for a loop. They settled in around the bed discussing the match and the rogue bludger.

"It was insane," Twin one told him a minute before the girls returned. "Thing just wouldn't give up."

"What happened to it anyway? Last thing I remember it was coming right at my face."

"Greengrass," Angelina Johnson cut in. "That girl is fast with a wand and I've never seen a second year fire a reducto that powerful before. She hit it dead on ten feet above you and the damn thing blew apart. I think they'll be finding the pieces of it for years after that."

"Well, I couldn't very well let it hit him, could I?"

The group turned at the sound of the cold voice to find the three girls standing behind them, staring at the Harry on the bed who blanched at the combined looks of disapproval.

In moments the team had cleared out, quickly saying their goodbyes. While the males on the team looked terrified by the three frosty glares, the girls actually looked understanding, and while the looks they cast in his direction weren't filled with condemnation, they certainly didn't contain any sympathy for his plight.

"You have got to stop doing this to us, Harry," Hermione said after they'd settled themselves into seats on the left side of his bed with Neville taking up a chair on his right. "That really hurt, you know? We could feel every broken bone, remember?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I swear I don't try to get hurt. I don't go looking for trouble."

"No, trouble just finds you."

Neville snorted. "It's more like you put out a full color ad in the prophet giving it your home address, Harry. I've never seen anyone attract more chaos then you seem to be able to do just by being around."

Harry would have shrugged but couldn't so he simply remained silent and Daphne glanced at her watch.

"We need to get going, they're serving dinner in the Great Hall about now and Madam Pomfrey should be along to kick us out any moment anyway." She stood and leaned over the bed, brushing Harry's fringe of hair out of his face so she could press a soft kiss to the scar above his eye. "I'll be back later. That's what Madam Pomfrey wanted to talk to us about. She offered to let one of us stay here with you tonight so that you're not left alone like this. She knows it could drive you crazy so I'll swing by the dorm after dinner and gather some things to bring with me and I'll see you in a while, okay?"

He nodded and quietly thanked her as she moved away, letting Susan and Hermione tell him goodnight.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Mate," Neville promise and Harry gave him a smile.

"Keep them safe for me, eh Nev?" he asked and Neville nodded seriously.

"Always, Harry. Try to get some rest."

Harry sighed and stared up at the ceiling as they made their way out of the Hospital Wing. "Rest," he muttered. "Right, like that's going to really be possible."

He closed his eyes and hoped, prayed for the ability to fall asleep but instead found himself staying awake as the stinging pain from the Skele-gro started and he waited for Daphne to return.

#####

"Neville?"

The boy in question turned his attention to Hermione as they made their way down toward the Great Hall.

"What is it, Hermione?" he asked curiously and she gave him a weak smile.

"I'm really, really sorry to ask this. But do you think you might be willing to go on ahead? The girls and I kind of have something we need to discuss."

Neville hesitated for a moment.

"Honestly, I'd prefer not to," he said and Hermione blinked, surprised to find the normally mild mannered boy denying her simple request. "I promised Harry I'd keep you all safe, and I aim to keep that promise. I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourselves, trust me, I've heard enough of that argument between the four of you already that I know better. But it's more about his peace of mind than it is anything else, right?" He cocked his head to the side slightly as he thought about it. "I mean, you and I know you don't need me to protect you. I'm sure he knows it too. It just makes him feel better to think there's an extra wand watching your backs.

"So let's try a compromise. Why don't you three go ahead and I'll hang back? That way I can honestly tell Harry that I kept a careful watch over you and you get some space to have your private discussion."

They rolled their eyes, practically in unison, but agreed and hurried forward

They walked in silence for a moment, Hermione in the middle between Daphne and Susan before any of them spoke.

"'Not now'," Daphne said.

"'Please, I need to focus'," Susan added and Hermione nodded.

"That was Harry's voice. In our heads, he spoke to us."

"I don't think he did it on purpose."

"Is it something we bring up to him or do we wait and see if it happens again?"

"Would experimenting with it be a good or a bad idea?" Susan added to Hermione's question. "Is it like suppressing the bond? Something Madam Pomfrey would tell us not to do?"

"We need that information from the goblins," Hermione growled. "I hate this. I hate not knowing. Not even a guess as to what we can expect or what we should or shouldn't do. I'm terrified to try anything for fear of ruining this," she added gesturing between herself and the other girls.

"I thought this bond was supposed to make things easier between us," Susan muttered and Daphne sighed on Hermione's other side.

"I'm going to talk to Harry, tonight," she said and the other girls turned to look at her as they walked. Out of the corner of her eye, Susan could see Neville still following along behind them far enough back that he wasn't intruding, but close enough that he could come to their aid if they needed him for any reason.

"About…" she trailed off and gave Hermione a significant look behind the bushy haired witches head and Daphne nodded.

"Hermione, you were right at the game. Something has been bothering me, but I haven't said anything because I didn't want to make anyone feel guilty especially over something that none of us really have any control over." She fell silent and Hermione just watched her, waiting as patiently as she could.

"Look, this growth you and Harry have experienced with the bond… it hurts, honestly, that Susan or I haven't experienced the same. And that's no ones fault as far as we know," she added when Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "It's not your fault, it's not Harry's fault… it might honestly be my fault, and Susan's, come to think of it. I think… I think I might be holding back. There's a lot of pain in my life that I don't want to talk about, I understand Harry perfectly in that respect. But I'm beginning to think that reluctance might be part of what's keeping us this way.

"Harry and I had a night. Similar to what you described after you first shared his nightmare. That night when McGonagall asked to see him in her office last year and he disappeared for hours, remember?"

Hermione and Susan nodded.

"We forced you to bed, Hermione, since you were just making yourself sick, worrying. When he came in he and I talked for a while and I told him a little more about my life than I've ever told anyone. In the end, that really didn't amount to much at all. No details, no specifics." Daphne sniffed and was startled to realize that there were tears dripping down her cheeks. She barely held back a sob when Hermione suddenly wrapped her arms around her, bringing the three of them to a stop in the middle of the hall.

"I think that's what's most been bothering me," she admitted as she cried on the other girls shoulder. "I had a moment with him. I had that calm and quiet discussion and we learned more about each other than ever that night. So why haven't I grown into this bond? Did I do something wrong?"

She felt Susan join them as the redhead's arms wrapped around her as well but none of them said anything for a time, not until the tears slowed and Daphne was able to pull herself together again.

"I'm-"

"Don't you dare apologize for showing us the real Daphne Greengrass," Hermione hissed quietly, refusing to let the other girl go for a moment. "I don't understand it. It's been mentioned a couple of times now, this training pureblood girls get in some of the older families. I can't begin to understand it, it's so outside of what I know, being muggleborn. But it's obvious that the person everyone sees isn't really you. The person that you show is a result of that training and I, for one would really like to get to know the real Daphne Greengrass better."

Daphne sniffed again and wiped at her face, pulling back as much as the type grip the other girl had on her would allow. "Thank you," she whispered.

Hermione bit her lip and Daphne, averted her gaze, looking into Susan's deep blue eyes for a moment before their bond mate spoke again, "You're ours, Daphne," Hermione whispered. "We belong to you and you belong to us. I can't say sorry for the growth I've experienced. I can't apologize for something wonderful. But don't ever, ever, for even a moment think that we're going to abandon you or that there's something wrong with you because you haven't grown into this as much as I have or Harry has. Madam Pomfrey said it'll be different for each of us, so please, try not to worry about it and just let it happen.

"You and Harry both have much worse things in your lives than Susan or I do. I think Harry only grew so close to us because we've all made that conscious effort to cut through his defenses. I don't think we've done the same for you, or for Susan, and for that I will say that I am very sorry. I don't ever want either of you to feel as if you're less important. You hold a part of my soul, Daphne, and you're just as important. I think maybe Harry's issues have kind of overshadowed some of our own, but we're going to work on that, okay?"

Daphne found herself almost overwhelmed by an insane urge as she'd turned her head to look into Hermione's cinnamon eyes as she spoke and for a moment she almost succumbed to it, but at the last second she gave herself a mental shake and nodded her head, giving her bond mate a watery smile and a quiet thank you.

Eventually, they parted, but kept in contact, their arms looped together as Hermione waved for Neville, who had stopped and waited patiently a distance away, to join them. Together, the four continued on their trip with the girls feeling much better overall, and Neville feeling that he'd made the right choice in giving them the space they needed while keeping a promise to his friend.