AN:

Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter. That really motivates me!

English is my second language. Even though I have read the chapter several times and have let other people check it as well, I apologize for any mistakes. All possible mistakes in this chapter belong to me alone.


Chapter 8 – Incompletely Separated

Ron Weasley followed his parents and siblings out of King's Cross, his body still hurting a little from the intense hug his mother had greeted him with when he got off the train. That had been a little embarrassing in front of his friends Neville and Hermione, especially since his mother had immediately started to clean his face, but of course, he was happy to see her again. His father and little sister Ginny as well. He had really missed them, as he only realized now when they got into his father's enchanted Ford Anglia.

Without these enchantments, there would never have been room for seven people, but his mother forbade his father from using the other modifications of the car, which is why they had to adapt to regular Muggle traffic. So the drive home could take some time. Ron sighed inwardly and wondered why they could not just use the floo network, but his father probably just enjoyed being able to drive a car for once.

"And how was your school year at Hogwarts?" his mother finally asked him and his brothers.

They all started to talk across each other. The twins told of their many pranks and Percy of his duties as a prefect. Ron was especially happy to be able to tell the story with the troll again (even if his mother did not think it was particularly funny).

Meanwhile, Ginny had been strangely quiet all the time. In a short pause, however, she finally spoke. "And ... and what was Harry Potter like?" Her face turned slightly pink.

Ron had to sigh inwardly again. So Ginny still hadn't given up her crush on Harry Potter. What should he answer now? Yes, what was Harry Potter like, Ron wondered. He hadn't really had much to do with him. In his first week at Hogwarts, he had even been rather rude to him once. Back then he had just been mad at all the Slytherins because they and Snape had been so unfair to them Gryffindors. Otherwise he really could not say much about the boy his sister had a crush on.

He decided to stick to the truth.

"I can't say that much about him," he said. "He's in a different house, so we don't have much to do with each other."

"Right," the twins commented, "the next dark Lord Harry Potter came to Slytherin." They started laughing.

Ginny's face went red, but this time out of anger. "That's not true! Harry isn't a dark lord!"

"Anyway, he is definitely a very good student," Percy tossed in from the side. "His teachers are extremely satisfied with him, except for Professor Snape."

"Ron, what can you say about him?" It really seemed to be important for Ginny.

"As I said, not much," Ron said. "We only have a few lessons together. And I didn't see him very often outside of class. But I have a feeling that he's not very popular with the other Slytherins. And the other houses have basically nothing to do with Slytherins."

"Does that mean that ... he has no friends? That he's lonely?"

"He seems to have one friend. When I see him, he's always with Daphne Greengrass. The two really seem to be inseparable."

Ron did not see his father frown at the name Greengrass.

At this point, however, the twins had to make one of their comments again. "Too bad Ginny, but it looks like he has already found the future Mrs. Potter."

Ginny blushed again and looked away.

Percy then engaged their father in a conversation about his ministry work. Their conversation about the Muggle Protection Act that their father was working on seemed so boring to Ron, Fred, and George that they started dozing off shortly afterwards.


After Harry had returned to Hogwarts from the train station in Hogsmeade, he had not known what to do with himself. And he had somehow wanted to get rid of the gloomy thoughts that had plagued him since Daphne had left. That's why he had decided to visit Hagrid once again.

So it happened that they both sat in Hagrid's hut with cookies and herbal tea and had a fun afternoon together. Only when he occasionally glanced at Fang, who was dozing next to them, did Harry notice how much he missed Daphne. Usually, it was always her who petted the boarhound dog when they visited Hagrid.

Hagrid seemed to be able to interpret his glances correctly. "Fang misses Daphne too," he said in a comforting voice. "But the time until September will pass quickly, you'll see. Before you know it, she's already back."

If only it were really like that, Harry thought. Hagrid had no idea how Daphne was treated by her parents. The thought alone churned his stomach, and he felt the anger rise again. Yes, eventually they would pay for everything they had done. For what they had done to Daphne!

However, Harry was torn from his dark thoughts when Hagrid suddenly got up from the table and took something out of a large chest. "Actually, it should have been your birthday present, Harry," he said. "But I think it's good if I give it to you by now. Maybe it can take your mind off things."

Hagrid grinned at him and handed him the object. It was a beautiful book bound in red leather. Harry opened it, and what he saw took his breath away. It was full of magical, moving pictures. His parents smiled and waved at him from every page of the book. He ran his fingertips across the pictures.

"I have sent owls to all of your parents' old school friends and asked them for photos. Knew you didn't have any. Do you like it?"

Harry clenched the book tightly in his hands. That were his parents. His family. He felt overwhelmed with joy.

"Thank you, Hagrid! Thank you!"

Hagrid just smiled at him, apparently happy that Harry liked his gift so much.

As Harry flicked through the book and looked at the pictures of his mother and father, he suddenly got an idea of what he could give Daphne for her birthday. He just did not know if his idea was realizable, but actually, it should be possible in this magical world, Harry thought. However, he would have to go to Diagon Alley for that.

Therefore, he asked his friend, "Hagrid, would you take me to Diagon Alley sometime? Actually, I am not allowed to leave the castle grounds. But with you, it's certainly not a problem. Then I also can buy my school supplies."

"Sure, Harry. Once you have your list for next year, we can go. I always need something from there anyway."

Harry just hoped that his idea was possible and Daphne would be as happy about her gift as Harry was about his. The thought of Daphne and her absence made his stomach churn again.


Pain. Abysmal, terrible physical and mental pain. That was what Daphne felt as she hobbled to her bedroom. The pain she was so familiar with, but which she had almost forgotten in the past few months, but now it was back, worse than ever before. For even if she had been able to catch a glimpse of paradise for a short time, the demons of hell could not be betrayed. And they punished every feeling of hope without mercy.

She tasted blood, and she knew that if she tried to speak, her voice would be barely audible.

She passed her sister's room. The door was open, but Daphne did not notice it. So she also did not see the little girl in this room sitting quietly on the bed, her eyes blank. Completely uncared.

Daphne reached her dark, cold room. Every movement hurt as she freed herself from her sweaty clothing. With a wet cloth, she wiped the dried tears from her face. Routine.

Carefully, she then climbed into her much too large, completely empty bed and curled up very tightly. A feeling of total loneliness overwhelmed her as she tried to close her eyes.

Vibrant red. That was what Daphne saw through her eyelids. She heard loud screams, expressions of cruel agony, realizing that they were her own screams too. She screamed and screamed and screamed ...

Daphne opened her eyes. Suddenly, she felt the pain. The vibrant red was flames. The whole world around her was on fire. And she was burning too.

She felt the flames scorch her. She smelled her burnt meat. She felt the blood flowing down, directly into her eyes.

Death! Please! I want to die!

But Daphne didn't die. It went on. On and on. An eternity of pain.

Music. That was what Daphne heard at some point in her torments of hell. But hearing was not the right term for it. She felt the music that seemed to come deep from her heart. A pleasant warmth filled her, replacing the burning pain of the flames that enveloped her. Suddenly, the flames turned emerald green.

The music grew louder. It was really beautiful. Daphne felt tears of emotion run down her cheek.

There was a strange smell. She knew the smell from somewhere. But how did she know it? It seemed so familiar to her, as if she had smelled it very often, but she just couldn't identify it.

Suddenly, she realized. Harry! That was the smell of Harry. She had never paid attention to how he smelled before. But that was it! Certainly! It had smelled the same way when she hugged him. Or he hugged her. It didn't really matter. Suddenly it felt exactly the same way. Daphne felt safe, secure, protected. She could almost feel his arms around her, but there was nobody. No arms. She was all alone in this sea of green flames.

Then she heard a bird cry and looked up. A bird with red and gold feathers approached her. It looked like it was a tail of fire.

Fawkes!

And then everything became dark around her.

Black. That was what Daphne saw. Or not saw. She did not feel like she had a body that could see. However, she felt a pleasant warmth. And a feeling of safety. It also smelled just like it did just now.

She felt like she was smiling. Or maybe not. After all, she had no body.

Suddenly, there was light. It was getting closer. And finally, she recognized something. Fawkes! The phoenix seemed to be sitting on a thorn bush. Here, however, he had nothing in common with the majestic creature she had seen in Dumbledore's office. He looked plucked and sick. Fawkes choked, and more and more feathers fell from his plumage. Suddenly, he went up in flames. Daphne would have cried out in horror if she had had a voice to cry. Fawkes had now become a fireball, giving e a terrible scream. There was nothing left of him but a smoldering pile of ashes on the ground. Nothing happened for a while. Then something moved in the ashes and suddenly a tiny, shriveled, newborn bird stuck its head out of the ashes.

He lives!

Afterwards, Daphne saw a multitude of images pass by in her mind's eye. It was as if she would witness many years in just a few seconds. She saw Fawkes grow bigger and more splendid. She saw him travel the whole world. Seas, deserts, forests. He just looked beautiful thereby, but at some point, this beauty began to fade away again. He became more and more frail and lost more and more of his feathers until he finally looked just as plucked as at the beginning. He went up in flames again, this time on the top of a lonely mountain, high above the clouds. And from the ashes of the old bird a newborn Fawkes rose.

All of this was repeated over and over again. Daphne had long since stopped counting. Again and again she witnessed this eternal cycle of death and rebirth, of destruction and new beginnings, realizing what a tragic beauty it inhered.

A smile. That was what could be seen on the face of the sleeping Daphne in her much too large bed in her cold and dark room. At least for a few hours Daphne felt safe and happy and free from any pain.


Confusion. That was what Harry felt when he woke up in the morning. His dreams that night had somehow been very different from usual. If they had been real dreams at all. Because he had seen almost nothing. Just once, he thought he remembered, for a split second, he had seen a blood-soaked Daphne. But otherwise his dreams that night had mostly been feelings. Sensations. Warmth, security, intimacy. It had felt like a hug, just without the physical contact. Just in his head.

He still remembered that smell. It had been quite unusual, but somehow familiar. It had somehow reminded him of oranges. Of long-forgotten yearnings for sunny afternoons in fields full of sunflowers. He knew that smell from somewhere. But from where?

Shaking his head, Harry decided to get up and go to the kitchen for breakfast.


The house-elves had, as always, given Harry a warm welcome, and he had enjoyed being able to eat breakfast in the kitchen rather than in the Great Hall. Hogwarts was quite deserted without all the students anyway. Many of the teachers also used the summer months for vacation and relaxation, which is why there are probably not a dozen people in the castle at the moment. The few remaining teachers also preferred to have their food brought to their private rooms. Harry, however, decided to always go to the kitchen to eat. That would probably also counteract his impending loneliness, he admitted.

He was thinking about what spells he would practice in the Room of Requirement later (after all, he did not want to fall behind Daphne, who was probably already training like crazy) when suddenly a person appeared next to him. Harry looked up, startled. Beside him was their esteemed headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He had not noticed how he approached him. He had to be more careful, he warned himself silently.

"Good morning, Harry," said Dumbledore, sitting down opposite him.

"Headmaster"

"How are you, my boy?"

Harry did not answer but looked alertly at Dumbledore. What did he want from him now? One of the house-elves came to their table, placing a large mug of hot chocolate in front of Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Minky. That smells wonderful. As always."

Dumbledore started to drink as he watched Harry through his half-moon glasses. Harry returned his look motionless with his arms crossed.

Finally, Dumbledore sighed loudly. "Harry, I know that our start was not exactly the best. I made mistakes for which I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart. I would like to try to restore at least a little of the lost trust." At this point Harry had to snort, but Dumbledore continued without interruption. "What do you think if I give you some private lessons over the summer? Is there anything you really want to learn that I can help you with?"

That actually awakened Harry's attention now. Despite all his dislike for the headmaster, he was undoubtedly a great wizard with tons of experience. Harry could only imagine Daphne's admonition that personal emotions should not keep him from learning useful things. Damn, she had even made him pay attention to potion classes.

But what should he ask Dumbledore for? He certainly knew countless types of magic. Harry thought of a spell that had fascinated him since he first read about it in a dark book in the Room of Requirement. He also could not completely forget his aversion. Therefore, he saw fit to give Dumbledore a little shock.

With a suppressed grin, he answered the headmaster. "I want to learn how to conjure Fiendfyre."

Dumbledore paled, and Harry laughed inwardly. Exactly the reaction he expected.

"Harry, ... this is extremely dark magic. I can't teach you that… and you shouldn't be dealing with something like that…"

And also exactly the answer he expected. Dumbledore was still looking at him in shock.

"What a pity," Harry shrugged. However, he also had another idea of what he would like to learn. Although he could not imagine Dumbledore agreeing to it, even if it was clearly not dark magic, but it would definitely be a useful skill. "Then I want to learn to Apparate."

After that, Dumbledore did not react at all. He only looked at Harry very closely until a furrow formed on his face.

"Agreed," he said finally after a deep sigh.

Now it was up to Harry to be surprised. He really had not thought Dumbledore would accept it.

"But Harry, no one can know about it. Strictly speaking, we are moving outside of what is legally permitted." Dumbledore hesitated, but then continued, "Please come to my office at 8 o'clock tomorrow night."

Harry only nodded briefly and then got up to leave the kitchen.

"Goodbye, Headmaster."


In the night, Harry's previous dream repeated. Somehow. It was still a mixture of feelings and sensations as if he was holding another person in his arms. Or someone else him. Warmth, security, intimacy. Pleasant feelings. He also noticed that smell again. But unlike the night before, Harry could identify the smell this time. For at the very beginning of his dream he had seen a familiar pair of eyes, just for a brief moment, but they had certainly been ice-blue, like gates to a strange world. Harry knew these eyes very well indeed, as often as he had looked at them in fascination, even the very first time he had seen them. That were Daphne's eyes! And that smell was that of Daphne, too. Somehow it had become familiar to him in the past few months, but he had never really noticed or thought about it before. But now there was no longer any doubt that that was exactly the smell of Daphne. It was like holding Daphne in his arms. Or like she was holding him. It didn't really matter.

What did all this mean? He had never had dreams like this before. Were it even dreams at all? Did he just delude himself while sleeping? But it felt so real. More real than ever a dream before. And what did it mean that at the very beginning he had, for a split second, felt a sharp pain, as if thousands of glowing needles were entering his body?

All of these confusing questions still bothered Harry as he leaned over a black leather-bound book in the Room of Requirement. Dumbledore did not want to teach him the spell, okay, but that did not mean Harry couldn't give it a try for himself. After all, he had taught himself so many spells with the help of the books in this room.

He scanned the page again.

... devastating flames ... destruction ... force of nature ... creatures of hell ... dangerous ...

He just had to master this spell!

Harry took a deep breath, clutched his wand, and said, "Puranaeros Stugaeto"

And … nothing happened.

Disappointed, Harry tried again. "Puranaeros Stugaeto!"

But nothing happened again. No flames, not even a little heat.

Did he forget something? No, the words were right. And a certain wand movement was not rquired either. You just had to long for conjuring the devastating Fiendfyre. And he did, right?

Harry tried again. This time he put his mind on the gigantic firestorm he wanted to create. On the scorching heat. And indeed, he felt the flames live. A feeling of power flowed through Harry.

He clenched his wand with both his hands.

"Puranaeros Stugaeto!"

Harry felt the feeling of power shoot through his body, through his outstretched arm into his wand, which had become significantly warmer. He saw the flames in his mind's eye, feeling their heat. His wand started to emit clouds of smoke.

Suddenly, Harry felt like his wand was being snatched out of his hand. And in fact, he fell forward with a jerk, the wand being thrown out of his hand. Harry was panting on the floor. His heart was racing, and he felt like he had just run a marathon. He was also drenched in sweat.

His wand was on the floor in front of him, still smoking lightly, but that too stopped shortly afterwards.

Harry had never felt so exhausted in his life before. He lied on the stone floor for a long time before he was able to think clearly again. Apparently, the spell was still beyond his capabilities. But was it just his age, or didn't he have the willpower to master the spell? In any case, he shouldn't try it anymore for some while…


Even if Harry's attempt to conjure Fiendfyre had failed miserably, his private Apparation lessons with Dumbledore were much more successful. The first meeting was all about the basic theoretical principles, but Harry was allowed to try it out in praxis on their subsequent meetings in the following weeks. For this, Dumbledore partially removed the protective spells that made it impossible to apparate within Hogwarts. On the eleventh evening he managed to disappear in a ring on the floor in Dumbledore's office and reappear in another ring a meter away. Afterwards, they increased the distances and after seven weeks Harry was able to Apparate over several floors within Hogwarts. It was hard work and cost Harry a lot of energy, but he was eager to master this magic. Once, however, he was a bit unconcentrated and showed up at his destination with only one eyebrow. Dumbledore, however, said he could be glad he didn't splinch. That would have been much more painful. The missing eyebrow had already grown back, supported by some applied magical balms.

Dumbledore sought talks with Harry throughout all their meetings, and Harry responded of necessity. After all, he wanted something from Dumbledore and then he should do that at least out of sheer politeness. But nonetheless, he avoided Dumbledore's question about private details of his life and plans (and those of Daphne). So they talked mostly about the lessons in Hogwarts and magic in general. Still, Dumbledore seemed pleased that there was at least some kind of "trust" between them, but Harry had not forgiven Dumbledore for his previous behavior. Should the old man just think that everything was fine between them again, Harry thought. But he would never trust him...

His dreams also continued. They became more and more realistic. He even felt as though he could feel Daphne's heartbeat now. Or was it his own heartbeat? In any case, he was happy every time he laid down in bed after a long day and closed his eyes. Even if he still felt a stinging pain from time to time before the pleasant feelings began.

On the morning of his twelfth birthday, Harry received books from Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick. He thanked politely for the gifts, but actually he had access to much more useful and comprehensive (and perhaps not so age-appropriate) books in the Room of Requirement.

Harry then spent a wonderful day in the fresh air and sun with Hagrid, culminating in the flight on the back of a hippogriff. Harry still grinned at the thought of this when he entered the Slytherin dormitory, exhausted, but the sight there took his breath away.

A house-elf jumped up and down on his bed, making joyful sounds. However, the house-elf was dressed in a kind of pillowcase with holes for the arms and legs. Harry had never seen this before at the house-elves of Hogwarts.

When the house-elf noticed Harry's presence, he slid off the bed and bowed so low that the tip of his long nose almost touched the ground.

"Um, hello?" said Harry curiously.

"Harry Potter," the elf said in a high-pitched voice, "Dobby has been waiting so long to meet you, Harry Potter sir ... what an honor ..."

"Thank you … but who are you? And why are you here?"

"Dobby is Dobby, sir. Just Dobby."

"And what do you want here, Dobby?" Harry was still confused. He was certain that he had never met Dobby before. Did he work at Hogwarts? But then why these strange rags as clothes?

Dobby answered with a serious expression, "Dobby is here, Harry Potter sir, to tell you ... It's difficult, sir ... Dobby doesn't know where to start ..."

"Please sit down, Dobby," Harry said politely, pointing to the bed on which Harry now sat. To his horror, Dobby burst into tears.

"Sit down! Never… never ever…" sobbed the house elf.

"I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to offend you or anything." What was wrong with this creature?

"Offend Dobby! Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard ... like an equal…"

And so, Dobby was sitting on the bed, like a big, ugly doll with hiccups. At some point he had calmed down a bit and was now staring at Harry, an expression of admiration in his watery eyes.

"You haven't met a decent wizard yet," Harry said encouragingly.

Dobby shook his head slightly. Suddenly, he jumped up and started banging his head on the bedpost.

"Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!" he shouted.

"What are you doing?" Stunned, Harry dragged the house-elf back onto the bed.

"Dobby had to punish himself, Harry Potter sir," answered the elf with a slight squint in his eyes, "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…"

"Your family?"

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir… Dobby is bound to serve one house and one family forever…"

"Do they know you're here?" asked Harry curiously. Dobby shuddered.

"Oh, no, sir, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, Harry Potter sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir…"

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. Sometimes the family reminds Dobby that Dobby has forgotten a few punishments..."

"But then why don't you go away? Why don't you leave?"

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free… Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…"

Harry had not known that. Was that also the case with the house-elves at Hogwarts? Actually, they always made a content and happy impression on him.

"Can I help you in any way?" Harry asked carefully.

Dobby cried out in his high-pitched voice, "Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby… Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew…"

"Relax, Dobby," Harry tried to calm the house elf. "And I'm not great, really."

"Harry Potter is humble and modest," said Dobby in awe, his orblike eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Voldemort?"

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

Harry just stayed silent. He really didn't know what was going on here.

Finally Dobby spoke again, dabbing his face with a corner of his grubby pillow case. "Harry Potter Sir is valiant and brace. Already as a baby he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he must shut his ears in the oven door later. Harry Potter must get out of Hogwarts!"

"What?! I can't get out of here! Only here I -"

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "Harry Potter has to go somewhere else where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter stays at Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" said Harry in surprise.

"There is a plot, Harry Potter sir. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!" Dobby was trembling all over.

"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a strange choking noise, then banged his head against the bedpost again.

"All right!" Harry called, grabbing the elf's arm to calm him down. "You can't tell me, I understand. But why are you warning me?" A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. "Hang on—this hasn't got anything to do with Vol—sorry—with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod."

"Not—not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Harry Potter sir." Dobby's eyes were wide open, and it seemed to Harry that he was trying to give him a hint. Harry, however, was completely lost.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Dobby started to tremble again and asked in a squeaky voice, "So will you leave Hogwarts, Harry Potter sir?"

"I can't, Dobby! My life at Hogwarts is all I have. Without I could -"

"But you must leave Hogwarts, sir! You just have to!"

"No!" Harry had jumped up angrily now, his hands clenched into fists. "I'm not going to leave. Do you hear? No way!"

Dobby trembled even more and started to sob loudly. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished, leaving a deeply confused Harry.


Harry decided to tell nobody at Hogwarts about this house-elf's visit. He did not know what to make of it anyway. Maybe Dobby had just been crazy. After all, he had behaved completely differently than the house-elves at Hogwarts. But he would tell Daphne. Maybe she could work it out.

He missed Daphne more and more as summer progressed. He missed talking to her. Laughing with her. Or just sitting next to her while they were doing their homework. He had gotten so used to Daphne's constant presence during the school year that her absence was now all the more apparent. And painful.

His dreams, which came back every night, were at least a little comfort. By now, he even had the feeling that he could feel Daphne's hair in his hands in these dreams. He was now positive that these dreams were real. Somehow, he was connected to Daphne in his dreams, even if he had no idea how something like that was possible. They could think about it together when they were reunited. Until then, he simply enjoyed his mysterious dreams and the feelings of happiness they gave him.

Otherwise, Harry either spent his days with Hagrid, who had even taken him to the forbidden forest several times, or in the Room of Requirement. There he practiced his spells every day. He had even managed to make the dummies that the room created throw spells and curses at him. Because of this, he had been hit painfully many times, but his reflexes had undoubtedly improved rapidly and continued to improve.

Two weeks after his birthday, he visited Diagon Alley with Hagrid as planned. In addition to the necessary school supplies, he actually managed to get the gift for Daphne. It was anything but cheap, but Harry did not care. He just hoped that Daphne would be happy about it.

The last few weeks of the summer holidays finally seemed like an eternity to Harry, caught in an ever-recurring routine of daily training and nightly dreams that still could only be a pitiful substitute for proper company and closeness.

That is how it came that Harry's entire body trembled with pleasant anticipation when he finally made his way to Hogsmeade station on September 1st.


Harry hurried restlessly across the platform. It was already full of students and more students were still getting off the train. Only the one person he wanted to see was nowhere to be seen.

He attracted a lot of attention with his behavior, but he did not care. A small, red-haired girl he was walking past looked at him with wide eyes. Probably a first-year, Harry thought. Once again, he cursed his scar.

Where was she? Had she got off at the very end of the train? He had to -

Suddenly, Daphne stepped out of the crowd in front of him. Harry would have recognized her honey blonde hair among thousands. She looked around restlessly, as if she was also looking for someone.

Their eyes met, and it seemed to Harry that the whole world was coming to a halt. He could not hear anything but his own breaths. And he could not see anything but Daphne's face and her ice-blue eyes.

In the blink of an eye, both fell into each other's arms. Harry's entire body trembled. He felt that Daphne was trembling too. He was overjoyed. She was finally back!

He carefully lifted Daphne's head, seeing tears run down her cheeks. Gently, he wiped away the tears, getting lost in her deep eyes. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Harry leaned forward and kissed Daphne on the lips. A pleasant warmth immediately filled him. He felt Daphne return the kiss, hugging him tightly. Never before had anything felt so perfect for Harry! He felt complete again as if he had been somewhat incomplete in the past few months, as if part of him had been missing.

At some point Harry broke away from Daphne, gasping, his eyes searching for hers.

"Daphne ... Are you all right?" Harry asked hesitantly, knowing what Daphne had to endure.

Daphne only shook her head slightly and tears run down her cheek again, her fingers gripping his cloak tightly.

Shakily, she began to speak, "No ... I don't want to lie, Harry ... But that's all over. I have survived. And now I'm here again!"

Harry cautiously wrapped his arms around his friend, just enjoying being reunited with her, gently stroking her back.

They were suddenly pulled out of their togetherness by a familiar voice.

"It's really touching. The Mudblood and the Blood Traitor. What a lovely couple." Draco Malfoy gave them a mocking look, pretending to throw up. Crabbe and Goyle behind him did the same, laughing derisively.

Violent anger possessed Harry. He released himself from the hug with Daphne, positioning himself protectively in front of her.

"Fuck off, Malfoy," he called angrily, drawing his wand. "Depulso!"

With a loud cry, Malfoy flew through the air, crashing to the ground several meters away, howling in pain.

Harry would have liked to do much worse to the bastard, but he fell just short off. But everything at the proper time. Some day…

He turned back to Daphne, who had meanwhile wiped the tears from her face, grinning at him with a wry smile. "You know you'll get detention with Snape for that?"

"Everything at the proper time." Harry returned the grin. "And I'm definitely not going to be alone considering what you did with Parkinson on the day of your departure."

"Oh damn…"

They both had to laugh. Harry took Daphne's hand, which she was only too happy to give him. Together they moved in the direction of the carriages that would bring them back to Hogwarts.

Harry was overjoyed to be reunited with Daphne. Everything was as it should be! When they were alone in a carriage, Harry spoke again. "Daphne, in my dreams -"

"I know Harry. Let's talk about it later. Now I just want to enjoy this moment."

Daphne put her head on Harry's shoulders, closing her eyes contentedly. Harry in turn put his arm around his partner and dropped his head on hers, noticing her smell, which actually reminded him of oranges and sunflowers. Happily, he took a deep breath. At that moment, with the two of them in this carriage, everything was truly perfect.


Next chapter: Victims

Preview:

It was a voice that made his blood freeze in his veins. A voice filled with abysmal hatred.

"Come… come to me… let me rip you… let me tear you… let me kill you…"

Harry looked at Daphne in horror, who returned his look in horror as well.


AN:

If you liked the chapter, feel free to leave comments. I am always happy to read thoughts about the story. And I am also grateful for feedback and criticism!

So in this chapter we saw how Harry and Daphne fared during the summer. In a way, it was an interim stage before we will continue with the plot and the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets in the next chapter. The preview already offers a little foretaste of what is to come. And do you have any idea what Harry's gift for Daphne could be? :)

By the way, I used my ancient greek knowledge from school long ago for creating the spell for Fiendfyre :D

As always, I hope not to keep you waiting too long, but there is no guarantee.

Until next time!