AN:

Music tip for this chapter: Lilium from Elfen Lied

Many thanks to my great beta reader Verlor (id: 11113787) for his help with this chapter!


Chapter 25 – Bound Souls

"Daphne, do you want to bind your soul with mine?"


The world around Daphne paused as if life itself had come to a halt. The flames in the fireplace froze, the snowflakes in front of the window stopped in the air as she slowly realized the meaning of Harry's words.

She must have misheard. That was the only possible explanation. That couldn't really happen. That had to be a dream, right?

Her heart pounded in her chest as if wanting out of the prison of her body. Daphne, however, felt paralyzed, only her hands trembled slightly, expressing her enraptured pain.

Harry looked at her with his piercing green eyes, so beautiful that she could've never dreamed it. Full of hope they were, but also filled with an ugly fear. As if he didn't know that, with his words, he'd just answered her deepest desire.

He wanted to bind his soul to hers! Fulfill her secret wish!

Harry, that child of love, chose her as his partner for eternity. Her, a creature of hatred, unloved and abhorred; her who had knocked him, once the hope of the world, off his pedestal and dragged him into the dirt with her.

He had every reason to turn away from her, to hate her, but he stayed by her side. He had seen her soul's deepest abysses, the cold darkness that even she was afraid of, but he still confessed his love to her. She had robbed him of a life of admiration and warmth, but of all the people who could have loved and accepted him, he was choosing her.

Her! That heartless, pathetic girl.

Little did he know how he was keeping her alive, saving her from the sweet lure of death. Harry's love was the only thing that could fill the hole in her heart, staved by the pain of the past. Through him, she could feel the person she might have been; in another life, in a less cruel world, where children were loved and little girls did not taste their own blood.

Daphne felt hot tears run down her cheeks but made no move to wipe them away. Instead, she closed her eyes as the memories overwhelmed her. Full of love and security they were. Harry, holding her in his arms, kissing her, whispering that he would never leave her alone. His words had silenced the ugly voice inside her head telling her she was worthless and unworthy of love. For Harry loved her and she loved Harry.

Do you want to bind your soul with mine?

Harry's words echoed in Daphne's mind. Her body trembled.

In wanting to bind his soul to hers, Harry decided to become part of herself, to shoulder her sins with her.

Together.

Forever.

A cozy warmth spread through her body.

Opening her eyes again, Daphne was seized with a feeling of bliss. She tried to put all her emotions in her smile, a reflection of her soul, which she offered to Harry with all her sincerity and gratitude, because from that moment on, she would always be his.

Daphne's body jerked at the thought. She felt like she was bursting with happiness. If she were to conjure her Phoenix Patronus now, its silver wings would probably envelop the entire globe.

Remembering that Harry was still waiting for her answer, she threw herself forward, right around Harry's neck, shouting her happiness out into the world. "Yes, Harry! Yes! A thousand times yes!"


Overwhelming relief seized Harry's body. His limbs trembled, his heart jumped for joy, feeling as if he could set the world itself on fire.

She said yes!

He wanted to cheer and jump across the room but was caught in the embrace of his lover. No, soon they would no longer be just lovers; they would be one. One soul, one life, one fate.

He hugged Daphne so hard he almost feared her petite frame might break under his grip, but she did not protest. His hand gently ran through Daphne's long hair, which was still crowned with the golden diadem.

"Daphne, you make me the happiest person in the world!"

At his words, Daphne stepped back, looking at him with her tear-streaked face. Her make-up was smeared, and her eyes reddened, yet she was as beautiful as the first rays of sunshine on a cool winter morning.

With her hand, Daphne wiped the traces of tears from her face, smiling lovingly. "No, Harry, you make me the happiest person in the world. You can't imagine how much I wanted that."

Harry froze. "Do you mean...?"

Daphne nodded, her head as red as a tomato. "Since we've seen Fawke's memories, I've been thinking about it," she replied quietly. "And then we found all this information in Alexandria ... So it's really possible ... And then my nightmare..." Harry knew exactly which nightmare Daphne meant. "... and the fight against the dragon. That's when I knew it. After that, I looked at our translations every night to –"

"You looked at the transcription too?" Harry asked in surprise.

For a brief moment, confusion was reflected in Daphne's blue eyes, before understanding emerged on her features. "Oh…"

After some seconds of silence, they both burst into laughter, causing Harry's stomach to hurt and him almost collapsing on the floor. Fortunately, the Room of Requirement created a large green sofa next to them, not so dissimilar to the furniture in the Slytherin common room. Exhausted, they collapsed on the sofa.

"I just can't believe it," Harry called out between fits of laughter. "Are you telling me that both of us secretly studied the same texts for the past few weeks?"

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" giggled Daphne. "Did you have Dobby bring the writings to you too?"

Harry's eyes widened. "The bugger!" he shouted before laughing again. "He could have told us at some point. Why am I actually paying him?"

"Easy, love," laughed Daphne as she leaned against his shoulder. "The way it happened today, it's perfect." She sighed comfortably.

Smiling, Harry put his arm around his partner. "You're right, Daph. It's perfect."

A pleasant silence fell between the couple, who just enjoyed the moment and their togetherness.

At some point, when Harry almost thought Daphne had fallen asleep, she straightened up again. Her ice-blue eyes, reflecting the flames of the fireplace, looked deep into his. "Are you serious, Harry?"

He understood. She had to hear it again, making sure it wasn't just a foolish flight of fancy.

"Yes," he replied with all his sincerity. "I've never longed for something so eagerly before. And you?"

Daphne touched his face, her thumb running over his skin. "Yes, Harry. You're my life. And I'm ready to walk this path together with you, to the very end."

The very end.

Did she mean her end or his? Did it even make a difference?

He had to know.

"I couldn't figure out if it would be like Valeydor and Valeydis," he whispered. "If we –"

Daphne raised a finger to his lip. "Let's not talk about that. We'll find out at some point, but not yet. I'd rather talk about the ritual. Do you know what we need?"

Harry complied with Daphne's request and put their death out of his mind. Instead, he nodded at her question. "I think so", he said, going through the list in his head, the result of his work over the past few weeks. "It would be different from Valeydor and Valeydis, but most of it shouldn't be a problem, I think. The blood comes from ourselves, given willingly. The gold we can get from our vaults in Gringotts. So the only thing that could be problematic is the sacrifice."

In the farthest part of his mind, a low voice asked when had he changed so much that he could speak so casually about such a subject. However, to bind two lives, another life had to be sacrificed. They had no other choice.

"How about some certain relatives of yours?" Daphne hissed hatefully. Harry felt as if the room had grown noticeably colder.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "They're mean bastards, but I don't want to..." He paused.

"Become a kinslayer," Daphne completed his sentence, her body tensing in his arms. "A murderer. Like me."

"You're not a murderer!" Harry told her immediately. "Your parents were the most vicious, disgraceful people imaginable. No, they weren't humans at all, they were vermin. And they would've posed a danger forever. For you, for us. But ... but the Dursleys, they're different. I left that behind. They no longer have power over me. At some point, they will pay for their sins, but I don't want to be their judge. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Harry," Daphne sighed, putting her head back on his shoulder. "You're such a good person. Much better than me." Harry didn't know what to say, but that wasn't necessary, because shortly afterwards Daphne continued, "Then someone else?"

Harry nodded as his gaze wandered to the clock on the wall. It was already well past midnight. "I know someone who deserves it," he muttered. "He'll be the perfect sacrifice."

"Good," Daphne replied sleepily. "I'm tired, Harry. And my feet hurt. Would you carry me to bed?"

"Of course, princess."

With that, Harry put his left arm behind Daphne's back and his right arm behind Daphne's knees so he could lift her up. She was as light as a feather, he thought with some sadness, carefully carrying her to a large four-poster bed that had appeared in the middle of the room. It was the same bed they had slept in after their fight in the Chamber of Secrets so long ago. It felt like an eternity to Harry, even if less than two years had passed. But so much had changed since then...

After donning a comfortable pyjama and also freeing Daphne from her dress, the two lay facing each other in bed, their faces only inches apart, their breath touching the other's lips.

"It's not a dream, right?" whispered Daphne.

"No, love," Harry replied with a smile. "It's the reality."

"We're really going to do it?"

"Yes."

"Really? I'm not just imagining it?"

"Really, Daph. We'll be one."

"One ... Oh Harry, I love you!"

"And I love you, my Daphne. With all my heart."


Gleefully, Dobby strode through the magnificent bronze gates of Gringotts, ignoring the goblin guards' grim glances. They were probably just jealous of his new Acromantula silk coat that Mr. Harry and Miss Daphne had given him for Christmas. Together with his dragonhide boots and his pink bobble cap, he had to make a very swish impression.

With bouncy steps, he crossed the atrium, adorned with marble stone slabs and golden columns, past busily working bank clerks and waiting wizards, until he finally stood in front of a high, wooden desk. Behind the desk sat a wrinkled goblin, scratching a piece of parchment with a quill, without so much as looking at Dobby at all. Arrogant longnose.

Dobby stood on tiptoes but was still not tall enough to look over the edge of the desk. So he contented himself with hitting the dark wood with his fist, echoing throughout the atrium.

"Dobby the House-Elf wants to speak to Mr. Goblin," he called out loud.

Now the goblin looked up from the piece of parchment, his face a mixture of annoyance and disdainful disregard. "What do you want, house-elf?" he snapped.

Used to much more harsh remarks from his previous life and therefore completely unimpressed by the goblin, Dobby calmly reached into his coat pocket, taking out a folded document. Even on tiptoes, he had to fully stretch his arm to put the paper on the desk.

"Dobby wants to withdraw gold," he replied loudly and confidently. "For the great Harry Potter and the kind Daphne Greengrass. But make it snappy please, Dobby still has to buy potions and cook chocolate pudding."

Indeed, Dobby liked his new life.


Seeing the excess cutlery felt like a stab in Ron's heart. His mother still put her plate, knife, fork, and cup on the table, as if his sister was going to come down the stairs to have breakfast with them, as if the last two years had been nothing but a nightmare, a horror of the night, gone with the first rays of the sun.

But with Ginny's death, the sun had set over the Burrow and not risen again since then. The happy family from Ron's childhood no longer existed. Where used to be loud laughter was now silence and, if you listened carefully at night, the crying of a desperate mother.

Unfortunately, Ron had always had good ears.


Harry winced as the needle dug into the crook of his arm. After Dobby had drawn blood over and over again for the past few days, however, he had already got used to this brief moment of pain, and as before, after a few minutes, it was all over.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry said sincerely as the house-elf handed him a blood booster.

Swallowing the iron-tasting potion in one gulp, he turned to Daphne, who was lying on the other couch, noticeably paler than himself. Due to her lower weight, the repeated blood loss took a lot out of her, which is why Dobby gave her double the amount of blood boosters.

For the past few days, they had worked almost round-the-clock on the preparations for the ritual. Still, their time was running out. The day after tomorrow they would be heading back to Hogwarts after returning to the Greengrass Manor for the remainder of the Christmas break. If they wanted to perform the soul binding ritual before summer, it had to happen tonight or tomorrow at the latest.

"Are you okay?" Harry turned to his partner, worried.

Daphne gave him a faint smile. "Just give me a few minutes and I'll be in top shape again. But do we have enough blood now?"

"Yes, we've enough," Harry replied, which Dobby confirmed with an eager nod. "Then only the cups and the spear are missing," he followed. "How about that?"

"I'll continue right away," replied Daphne, whose face had regained some color.

"Take a rest first," Harry insisted, sitting down on the couch next to Daphne. She immediately laid her head on his lap, sighing contentedly, while Harry started stroking her head.

"Today?" Daphne whispered.

Goosebumps spread all over Harry's body. "Can you manage that?" he asked, looking straight into Daphne's blue eyes.

"Yes, if I work on it all afternoon," replied Daphne, returning his gaze. "I want it, Harry. I want it so much."

"Me too, Daph, me too. Tonight then."

Harry looked at Dobby, who was essential to the final part of their magical ritual. They could have chosen anyone for the sacrifice, even a random muggle from the street, which would probably have been the smartest choice, but he preferred someone who deserved it. If you had to sully your hands, you could at least use dirty blood.

"Dobby," Harry addressed his friend. "Has anything changed in the last few days or can you still get into the house?"

Dobby closed his tennis ball-shaped eyes as he bobbed back and forth on his feet. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes again, giving Harry a big grin. "Dobby is coming in. Straight into the bedroom. The others won't notice anything."

"The arrogance of this family," Daphne remarked disparagingly.

Harry had to agree with her. Apparently, the old adage was true. Pride came before the fall. Soon old sins would get paid in blood.


Harry shook with excitement as he and Daphne stood in the basement of the Greengrass Manor. It was now shortly before midnight; their final preparations had taken more time than originally thought. Through a small window under the ceiling, the light of the moon shone in, soaking their two naked bodies in a silvery sheen, as if the heavenly body itself blessed their wicked deed.

Harry's body trembled with every pound of his heart, steadily like clockwork, as he completed the last ancient symbols on the floor.

"Are you finished?" Daphne asked softly as if she were afraid of her voice.

Harry rose from the ground, looking at his work, two large seven-pointed stars linked by a chain of hieroglyphics and runes, painted with their own blood. The mixed blood of two people as a symbol for the impending union of two souls; magic fascinated him again and again.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, turning to Daphne, who was holding a bowl with even more blood, provided with an anti-coagulation spell. "Do you want to start?"

Daphne nodded briefly. "Then I'll do it for you."

Smiling, Harry stepped over to his partner and took the bowl from her before letting it float beside him. "Are you sure you didn't mix up the blood?" he asked with a chuckle, trying to cover up his nervousness.

"No jokes, please," Daphne replied in a shaky voice. "Not today…"

Harry nodded curtly, before dipping his fingers in his own blood, cold yet full of life. Daphne's skin seemed to crackle with magic as he began to draw symbols on her body, not unlike those on the floor. He started with her neck, working his way down her back and buttocks to her legs; then stomach, breasts – Harry felt the blood rush to his crotch – and finally the face. When he was finished, almost all of Daphne's skin was covered in red symbols made from his blood.

"Done," Harry muttered, even though he felt like his wild heartbeat should drown out any other sound.

"Thank you," Daphne whispered, reaching for her wand and summoning another bowl, this time with her blood. "Please turn around, Harry."

The previous procedure was repeated, only this time it was Daphne who covered his body with her blood. Her fingers left burning marks on his skin, which seemed to absorb the blood eagerly.

Daphne had just knelt in front of him to put the ancient indicia on his thighs when there was a familiar bang and Fawkes appeared over their heads. With a smile, Harry looked at their special friend, without whom they would not be standing there today. Daphne, on the other hand, concentrating, continued her work.

"Hello, Fawkes," Harry greeted the phoenix, who perched on a rusted torch bracket. Small flames blazed between his feathers, their orange light mingling with the silver rays of the moon. "I was sure that you would join us tonight, so thank you, my friend, for everything."

Harry hoped Fawkes knew what he meant by that, and if he correctly interpreted the phoenix's cooing response, he did.

After a few more minutes, Daphne was done as well. She put the bowl, which was still fairly full, back on the stone floor, next to a long golden spear and two golden cups. Both the spear and the cups were covered over and over with engraved hieroglyphics, the result of Daphne's relentless work over the past few days.

"We're ready," Daphne said quietly, her blue eyes filled with a deep longing. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

She was giving him one last chance, Harry knew. One last chance to turn back on this path which might very well be where they squander their humanity, sacrificed to a foolish dream of tomorrow.

Harry didn't even try to have a choice.

"Yes, Daph," he replied. "I'm sure. And you?"

It was only fair to return the favor.

"Do you really think you have to ask me that?"

"No, probably not."

Daphne stepped right in front of him, her breath brushing over his lips as she leaned forward, careful not to smear the symbols of blood. Only their lips met, timid, yet full of passion, leaving no doubt about Daphne's answer.

"I love you, Harry," Daphne whispered as they broke apart. "And I hope you can feel it for yourself soon because I can't express in words how much you mean to me. How much you saved me."

"I can't wait," Harry replied, also in a whisper, his heart still beating nervously. Did Valeydor and Valeydis once feel the same way? His gaze wandered to Fawkes, who looked at them both with his unfathomable golden eyes before turning back to Daphne. "I feel like my entire life, everything I've ever done, converge at this moment," he continued. "Does that make any sense?"

"Yes, for me it does," replied Daphne tenderly. "I ... I think if we wait any longer, I wouldn't keep my stomach contents in me much longer ... Please let's begin, Harry..."

Harry gave a short laugh. He had no idea what stomach contents Daphne was talking about – after all, they hardly got anything down today – but he too was afraid that his nervousness would overwhelm him if they didn't start soon.

Putting his wand on the floor, he called for Dobby. There was a loud pop and the house-elf appeared in the basement, dressed in a black tailcoat with a tophat and a blood-red bow tie.

"Mr. Harry called," Dobby said in a squeaky voice. "Shall Dobby get his old master?"

"Please, Dobby," Harry replied. "But be careful, yes?"

"The great Harry Potter is worried about Dobby's well-being!" Dobby sobbed loudly. "Harry Potter is the greatest and nicest master in the world. Dobby will make Harry Potter Sir proud!"

And with another pop, Dobby disappeared. The silence he left behind was even more stifling than before, as all they could do was wait. Part of Harry wanted Dobby to hurry, the other part knew that Dobby had to be careful. Should he be caught, it would be all over.

But if Dobby succeeded, they were only minutes away from their perfect happiness. Just a few more minutes. Just a little more patience.

That was so much easier said than done, Harry thought, feeling sick and euphoric at the same time as the tremor in his body got worse and worse. He felt Daphne grab his hand, almost crushing it, but he returned her grip equally. He just had to feel her, to cement that this was not a dream.

A cloud moved in front of the moon, shrouding the basement in almost absolute darkness. A bad omen? Harry shook his head, counting the seconds to distract himself.

To no avail.

Had something gone wrong? Had Dobby been caught and was being interrogated by the Aurors right now? Were they about to storm the house to take him and Daphne to Azkaban? Would they have to fight their way through? Would –

A sudden crack like a whip startled Harry from his fateful thoughts. His heart stopped beating for a moment when he saw the contours of the grinning Dobby in front of him, hands outstretched to let the unconscious Lucius Malfoy, clad in white pajamas, float in the air.

"Dobby!" Harry cheered, hearing Daphne breathe a sigh of relief next to him. "You made it!"

"It was easy," Dobby replied, wiggling his long ears happily. "The old master slept alone, the old mistress was in another bedroom. Nobody noticed anything."

"Well done, Dobby," Daphne spoke up, her voice trembling with excitement. "Now we'll take over."

With that, she raised her wand, conjuring a massive wooden armchair in the middle of the opposite seven-pointed star. She then pointed her wand at Malfoy, lowering him into the chair before shackling him with iron chains.

"As Miss Daphne wishes," Dobby replied, bowing briefly to them, and with another bang, he was gone. Harry, Daphne, and the unconscious Lucius Malfoy, with whom Harry still had a score to settle, remained behind.

Two years ago, that bastard had put all of Hogwarts in danger. And even worse: Daphne!

Oh yes, he would enjoy this, Harry thought dark, his blood boiling. A terrible heat spread throughout his body.

"Daph, wake that bastard up," he hissed, straining to suppress his anger. "I want him to know."

Daphne gave him a sympathetic look before pointing her wand back at the fettered Malfoy, uttering the incantation. As if struck by lightning, Malfoy awakened with a start, only to be caught in the iron chains.

"Ahh!" he shouted, blinking violently and fighting against the chains. "W-what? Where am I?"

Harry rejoiced to see Malfoy so helpless, completely at their mercy, but his fate was sealed with blood.

"Hello, Lucius," Harry hissed. "Long time no see, right?"

"W-Who's there?" Malfoy shrieked in fear, music to Harry's ears. "Where am I?"

Malfoy still didn't seem to see anything in the semi-darkness of the basement, Harry noted. Their prisoner moved his head in panic and finally spotted, but not recognized, Fawke's glowing plumage. "Who are you?"

Harry nodded to Daphne, who then created a magical sphere of light. Even Harry squinted at the abrupt change of light as he listened gleefully to Malfoy's whimper.

After a few moments, Malfoy seemed to have got used to the new brightness, because all of a sudden, his face became even paler. Pale as death even. How fitting.

Malfoy's eyes widened in horror as they looked at Harry and Daphne's naked bodies, painted with bloody marks. "P-Potter?" he stammered. "W-What –"

"Shut up, bastard," Harry interrupted him angrily. "Today you won't be able to talk yourself out. Or bribe your judges. Today you'll die as you should have many years ago. I just want you to know that it's us, Daphne and I, who are going to kill you. You'll pay for your crimes. You and all the other Death Eater scum."

"No!" Malfoy yelled in panic. He gasped for breath, his body still struggling against the chains. His pajama bottoms darkened in his crotch, while a yellowish puddle spread under the chair.

"You disgust me," Harry hissed. How dare this bastard desecrate their sacred ritual?

"Please!" Malfoy begged. "D-don't kill me. Please! I-I can help you, I can –"

"We need nothing from you but your death," Harry waved off. He was about to turn to Daphne when Malfoy continued pleading in a high voice.

"I can tell you things!" He paused for a moment, before looking directly into Daphne's face. "I know who your real father is, girl. It's not Morpheus Greengrass. It's –"

"Voldemort," Daphne interrupted him in a calm voice, even if a dark shadow briefly flickered across her face "We know that already. It doesn't matter."

Harry squeezed her hand before turning back to Malfoy, who was visibly shocked by Daphne's revelation. Panicked, he looked back and forth between him and Daphne, and one could almost hear the gears rattling in his head, so hard he seemed to be looking for a way out.

"I know more!" he yelled. "Much more. The Dark –" Suddenly Malfoy closed his mouth and it almost looked like he was swallowing his tongue. He squirmed with pain, no longer able to speak.

Harry leaned forward curiously. That was unexpected. What was going on with him?

A jerk went through Malfoy's body as he gasped for air. "Arm," he panted, dripping with sweat. "Look at my arm!"

Harry and Daphne exchanged a questioning look before Daphne pointed her wand at Malfoy's right arm. There was a cutting noise and fabric fell to the floor, revealing the edges of a tattoo. Except, of course, it wasn't just a tattoo, as Harry knew, but the Dark Mark that branded all the Death Eater bastards.

"And?" Harry asked impatiently.

"It ... It used to be lighter," Malfoy gasped as if he could barely open his mouth.

His Dark Mark had once been lighter? What was Malfoy trying to tell them?

"Do you mean Voldemort is getting stronger again?" Daphne's voice cut the air. "Speak!"

Malfoy opened his mouth as if he wanted to answer, but once again he pressed his jaws together, choking violently. Was there a spell on him that prevented him from talking about certain topics? But that would also mean that the answer to Daphne's question was somewhere in Malfoy's mind, just waiting to be revealed...

"Daphne, how are your Legilimency skills?" he turned to his girlfriend, who gave him a surprised look, but then understanding shimmered in her pupils.

"Just like yours," she replied with some regret. "You know that. And anyway, I would look at the mind magic from the books beforehand. Seems to be more effective." She shrugged.

"Shame, shame," Harry muttered before turning back to Malfoy. "Shame for you, Malfoy. Now it's time to die."

"No!" Malfoy yelled in a last act of desperation. "I can help you! Really! I ... I still know something!"

Harry was silent, holding back his burning desire for one more moment.

"There ... There isn't just the diary," Malfoy stammered, fighting his urge to gag. "He ... he has ... my sister-in-law ... Bella-Arrrh" Suddenly Malfoy began to scream, shaking the walls itself. His cries of pain must have been heard miles away. How convenient that the entire property was covered with protective charms.

"That's enough," Daphne hissed and with a wave of her wand, Malfoy's screams lapsed into silence. Finally, it was quiet again.

Hateful, Harry looked at Malfoy, who was now whimpering in silence, fearful, pleading, and wet with his urine. A truly pathetic sight.

Feeling Daphne squeeze his hand, he turned away from the piece of dirt in front of them. Instead, he looked into Daphne's blue eyes, reflecting the silver light of the moon.

"It's time," whispered Daphne, her voice little more than a breath in the air.

Harry nodded, suddenly unable to speak, his throat tightening.

Daphne put her wand on the floor, grabbing one of the golden cups. She dipped it in the bowl of her blood until it was full to the brim. When she got up again, Harry saw a mixture of fear and nervousness in her gaze, the same feelings that seized him.

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked directly into his partner's eyes, seeing nothing more than her blue irides, beautiful and sublime. "Everything will be fine," he whispered as firmly as he could. "Soon we'll be one. Forever."

Daphne gave him a tentative smile, her hands trembling so much that Harry feared she might spill the blood. "T-Then I'll start now, okay?"

"Yes," Harry replied, and with that short word all his tension dropped from him. For both of them, there was no despair, no looking back, no yesterday anymore, only the promise of a new tomorrow, their light on the firmament.

Daphne took a deep breath – and with her the whole world, it seemed – before she, in Parseltongue, began to recite the words, as old as the hills, devised by ancient sages.

"O Light of Darkness, before you comes Daphne Daughter of Eve, child of Roxanne and Tom – here Daphne choked briefly – bless my blood, elixir of my life, to unite what is separate."

The hieroglyphs engraved on the cup started to glow brightly as the magic worked. Carefully, Harry took the cup from Daphne's trembling hands.

"O Darkness of Light," he spoke, also in Parseltongue. "Before you comes Harry Son of Adam, child of Lily and James. Bless my flesh, shell of my being, to bring together what belongs together."

With that, he raised the cup to his lips and began to drink. Even if Daphne's blood tasted much sweeter than he expected, he still had to fight against his gag reflex. But he already went through so much worse, he thought resolutely, that drinking some blood to buy their salvation was easy to endure.

The last sips were the worst. Harry felt his stomach rumble. However, as soon as the last drop of blood disappeared in his throat, a blissful sensation spread throughout his body, while the symbols on his body shone with a golden glow. Never before in his life had Harry felt so unburdened, so carefree and free. He looked at Daphne, who had been staring at him the whole time, and gave her a happy smile.

Kneeling to the ground, he dipped the other cup into the bowl of his blood until this too was filled to the brim. He then stood up again so that they could continue with the ritual.

"O Light of Darkness, bless my blood, elixir of my life, to unite what is separate."

Harry handed Daphne the glowing cup.

"O Darkness of Light, bless my flesh, shell of my being, to bring together what belongs together."

After Daphne had finished speaking, she brought the cup to her lips without hesitation and quickly began to drink the blood, as if she were dying of thirst. Harry looked at his unbridled partner in amazement. After only a few seconds, much faster than Harry, Daphne put down the empty cup, giving him a radiant smile, as beautiful as ever. It was almost as if Harry could hear the mocking words that Daphne wanted to say but didn't dare since the ritual followed a fixed procedure.

The symbols on Daphne's body shone with a golden glow, mingling with his, their beacon of hope in the darkness. As if under a spell, they looked at each other, their eyes reflecting the golden light of their souls, beautiful, yet so vulnerable.

Not any longer.

They would be one. And together they could just do anything. Together they could endure all suffering. Together they would be free.

Simultaneously, Harry and Daphne both grabbed the metal spear, tool of their near triumph, feeling cold under his hands. Now, Harry thought euphorically. Their new life, their new beginning. Now!

With one voice, they spoke the holy, infamous words.

"O Fire Divine, deliver us. Two lives, separated, a mistake. O Fire Divine, bring together what belongs together. Two lives, one soul. O Fire Divine, we beg you, bind us, DELIVER US!"

Shouting their desire out into the world, they thrust the spear into the heart of their sacrifice, for whose horror-filled face Harry had long since lost eyes, his death cries passing in silence.

The symbols on the floor shone.

Daphne screamed.

And Harry...

Harry was gripped by excruciating pain, as if thousands and thousands of hot needles were piercing his body, as if his blood was boiling and his heart turned inside out. Never before had Harry felt such agony. He collapsed, rolling in a pool of blood, trying in vain to put out the flames inside him.

The pain captured Harry's entire consciousness; he felt like he was losing his mind. Everything went black around him.

There was no way out, no way to escape the pain. It was everywhere, suppressing his entire word.

The boy he once was, his hopes and dreams, they ceased to exist, engulfed by pain.

Please!

The boy wanted to die, there and then, if that could only help him escape this pain. Death was the only way out.

Please, please kill me.

I can't take it anymore.

Please!

Please kill me!

He felt his spirits leave him. Green eyes smiled down at him. Soon everything would be over…


It was as if the boy could hear a beautiful melody from far away. The music seemed somehow familiar to him, like a memory of a long-forgotten dream.

And there was a sensual scent in his nose. This, too, seemed familiar to the boy, but where from?

Images formed in his mind. A wide blue horizon, water, hot ground under his feet.

Sea.

The boy didn't know how he suddenly knew that word, but it felt right. But what did it mean?

Waves. Beach. Dunes.

More and more words came to his mind. Had he once learned them? But where?

A warm feeling on his lips. Wet traces on his face and under his fingers.

Had he once experienced that? But when? He couldn't remember...

The melody, this beautiful, august music that had released him from his pain, grew louder and louder, filling his entire being. And behind it a sound...

The sound of the sea.

That sounded right in his head. He had liked that sound, the sound of the waves, the boy recalled. Waves crashing onto beaches of white sand. Blue water as far as the eye could see.

He had loved the sight. But where, where had he seen it? He tried to remember.

Again and again, he only saw the deep blue of the sea. It glittered in the sun, completely calm, undisturbed by the movement of the waves.

But didn't he still hear the water's rushing? How was that possible?

It wasn't the sea, the boy realized. The blue didn't fit. It was purer, brighter than the sea, and much, much more beautiful.

He had seen this blue many times in the past, he remembered, had lost himself in its shine. But where? Where, damn it?!

Hot anxiety seized the boy. He had to remember! So much depended on it...

Wait, what depended on it? What was so important that he remembered that blue?

The boy couldn't explain it; he just knew it was important, the key to his salvation.

Salvation?

Yes, right, they had wanted to save themselves. Together…

He hadn't been alone, he realized! On the beach, on the dunes, listening to the waves. There had been someone with him...

Daphne!


"Daphne!" screamed Harry as he opened his eyes.

Immediately, the excruciating pain returned, cutting deep into him, still he lifted his head. He had to find Daphne; that was the only thing that mattered.

He didn't have to look long. She was almost right next to him, rolling on the floor, whimpering in pain. Harry's heart broke at the sound. How, how could he have let this happen?

Next to Daphne was Fawkes, crying and singing softly. The tears of the phoenix fell on Daphne's wounds, which she struck with her own fingernails. It looked like she was trying to rip her face out.

No!

He had to reach her!

Harry gathered all his strength, ignoring the pain, and stretched out his arm to touch Daphne.

In vain.

There were still a few inches missing.

"Daphne, please," Harry pleaded desperately. "Please. Please look at me."

Daphne writhed with pain, tossing her head to the side, right in front of Harry's face. Her eyes had lost almost all blue color, replaced by a dark, deep red.

"Please, Daph. I'm here. I'm here!"

Harry tried to pull himself forward, slowly, far too slowly. His fingertips could almost touch Daphne's skin. Just a few more millimeters.

"H-Harry," he heard a faint croaking voice. Daphne looked at him, but he didn't know if she could really see him.

"I'm here, love," he called out as loudly as he could, but his voice too was little more than a croak. "I'm right with you. Please don't give up. Please don't give up..."

He made himself as long as possible, fought for both of their lives. He couldn't give up either, he couldn't!

A little bit. Just a little bit.

One last effort.

Yes!

His fingertips touched Daphne's cold skin.

Abruptly the pain in Harry's body subsided, Daphne's whimpering stopped. A wondrous warmth seized his body, no, his soul, before darkness overwhelmed him.


Next chapter: Missing Spectacle

Preview:

"Yes ... um ... that was unspectacular," sounded Bagman's consternated voice.


AN:

At the same time as this chapter, I also published a short one-shot ("Election Eve") which you can check out :) Otherwise, I am looking forward to your comments on this chapter!