AN:

Many thanks for my great beta reader Verlor (id: 1113787)!

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Chapter 28 – In the Eyes of the World

Harry hit the ground with a violent jerk. Immediately a searing pain went through his battered back, making him scream out loud. He felt Fawkes' claws on his shoulder, his hand still clutching Daphne's arm. For her he had come back from the dead and he feared that he would be devoured by darkness if he let go of her.

Daphne's thoughts, her unbridled feelings overwhelmed him, combined with a torrent of deafening sounds around him. There were voices everywhere, footsteps, yells…

"Help! Help! Harry is injured!" Daphne screamed in panic, but Harry could sense another kind of fear inside her; the same fear he'd felt at Stonehenge when he'd shared his memories, a fear that went far beyond his physical condition…

Before he could fathom this more closely, however, a pair of hands suddenly grabbed him. "Harry! Harry! What happened? Where have you been? What…"

Harry had to blink several times until the milky veil in front of his eyes lifted. He saw the starry sky above, also their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, crouching over him. Dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed around them, shaking the ground with their footsteps. They had come back to the edge of the maze, Harry realized. He could even see the stands where shapes of people pointed at him, whispering wildly with their neighbors.

"Harry is injured! He must go to the hospital wing! Immediately! His skin –"

"He's back," Harry whispered, interrupting his girlfriend's panicked screams. His throat burned, Dumbledore's face blurred again before his eyes, but he had to warn them. "He's back. Voldemort."

Harry didn't perceive what followed; not Dumbledore's horrified questions, Fawkes' caws, or Daphne's screams. Darkness enveloped him.


Harry woke up. His entire body ached, but more like sore muscles after a day of hard work, his back just itching instead of burning. He could see a faint light through his eyelids, even though he was sure it was still nighttime. He felt that he couldn't have been asleep very long.

However, what had awakened him was angry shouting. A voice particularly disturbed him, inflaming his heart as if he had jumped into a lake of liquid fire.

"... flipping idiot!" Daphne yelled, her voice trembling with uncontrollable fury. "You're the dumbest, most incompetent –"

"I won't put up with that!" a screaming male voice interrupted her that Harry identified as Minister Fudge.

Opening his eyes, Harry realized he was in the hospital wing. In front of his bed stood an angry crowd: Daphne, her body and mind trembling as she hatefully glared at Fudge, her hands clenched in fists. Fudge, screaming at Daphne with a purple head, behind him apparently the entire Auror Office, at least a dozen grim-looking witches and wizards. And in the middle of all this chaos stood a sighing Dumbledore.

"Not from you," Fudge continued to shout. "Both you and Potter lost your mind! Everyone saw that! You belong in a nuthouse –"

"That didn't stop you from hanging medals around our necks last year," Daphne interrupted him. "But back then we were still useful for your ego trip, I guess. You disgust me, you pathetic, fat –"

"Had I known what Freaks you both are –"

In a fraction of a second, Daphne had drawn her wand, now pointing it directly at Fudge's throat. "Take that back!" she screamed. The air around her seemed to flicker and Harry was seized by a hot rage.

The Aurors behind Fudge responded instantly. Numerous wands were aimed at Daphne.

"Wand down," one yelled. "Now!"

Harry was scared. Scared for Daphne. He could feel her fighting her fury. She wanted to curse the Ministry wizards, make them squirm in pain, lay the hospital wing in ashes. But it would be too risky, there were too many enemies…

"Daphne," Harry called out at the same time as Dumbledore.

Daphne froze, then swung around. Her face was still covered with soot and traces of tears, her hair stuck out in all directions, but most striking were her eyes, blue swirls of exuberant energy.

The Aurors didn't hesitate for a second. As soon as Daphne turned away from Fudge, she was hit by several disarming spells at once. Her wand flew through the air as two Aurors pounced on her. With a shriek she fell to the ground, her face being pressed against the hard stone.

Harry tried to jump up but was jerked back abruptly. Only now did he notice that his wrists and ankles were tied to the bed frame. What the hell –

"That's enough!" Dumbledore's commanding voice stopped the chaos. At once silence fell over the room. It was at that moment that Harry fully understood why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. Dumbledore didn't even have to raise his voice or pull out his wand to radiate a power that one could almost feel physically. There was no benign smile upon his face, no twinkle in his eyes behind the spectacles.

"Dawlish, Robards, let go of Miss Greengrass, that is not necessary," Dumbledore went on, his voice calm as ever, but without any kindness.

"Dumbledore –" Fudge began, but Dumbledore immediately cut him off again.

"No, Cornelius. Voldemort is back. But if you don't want to acknowledge this, if your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, then we have nothing more to discuss. If you are not ready to take the necessary actions, we have reached a parting of our ways. You must do what you deem right. And I – I shall do what I deem right. And I won't let your bodyguards attack my students."

"I see," hissed Fudge. "You got infected by this… this madness. Potter and Greengrass are lunatic, dangerous even. We've all seen it with the dragon and in the maze. Even with Black! What normal teenagers cut off a man's head and then let it float in front of them? If we should be afraid of Dark Wizards, then it is these two psychos, I tell you, oh yes, I –"

"Minister, call off your Aurors. I won't repeat it." Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but the meaning of his words was clear to everyone present.

The Aurors exchanged nervous glances as they waited for instructions from Fudge. Daphne was still being held down by two men, knees in her neck. Harry could feel her seeping rage as they both struggled against their respective bonds.

Swallowing audibly, Fudge appeared to shrink several inches before calling out in a shaky voice, "Let her go. We're leaving."

The Aurors released Daphne, who immediately jumped up and ran to Harry. Sobbing, she threw her arms around his chest. Her feelings bombarded him; a single, impenetrable mess of anger, fear, and regret.

"Easy, love, easy" he spoke to her in his mind. "I'm fine, Daph. I live. All's well."

Daphne sobbed but was still unable to express a clear thought.

In the meantime, Fudge had taken a large bag of gold out of his pocket, which he dropped directly onto Harry's stomach. "A thousand galleons," hissed Fudge. "Your blood money."

With that, he crammed his bowler hat onto his head and rushed out of the room, the Aurors in tow, leaving Harry and Daphne alone with their headmaster.

Dumbledore walked over to the bed where he collapsed into a conjured chair. His aura of power had faded, he now looked like a very old and exhausted man. "That didn't go as I had hoped," he sighed as he loosened Harry's bonds with a flick of his wand.

Instantly Harry put his now free arms around Daphne's trembling body, hugging her very tightly. "All's well, Daph," he assured her in his mind while gently stroking her back. "All's well. All's well."

"No, nothing is well!" Daphne sobbed. "I ... I was so scared. They ... they just took you away." Daphne's petite body was seized by a crying fit. "Dumbledore didn't let me go with you. He wanted to question me ... and then ... then I ran away ... to you ... they'd tied you to the bed ... I lost my temper. You're dangerous, they said ... I wanted to kill them all, but then ... then you would've turned away from me ... you would've rejected me..."

Daphne's thoughts broke off, engulfed in tears, pain, and fear. Her emotional world was pure chaos. It broke Harry's heart to see her like that, but he just didn't understand what threw her into such a turmoil, what she was so terrified of. Every time he put out his spiritual feelers to his soulmate, they were torn away like a rowing boat on stormy seas. He just couldn't get through to her. What was wrong with Daphne? He had to help her! Her misery tore at him, hurt him. He had to –

Suddenly the storm in Daphne's mind and soul abated; her body slackened. Harry was about to scream in panic when Dumbledore's voice dragged him back to reality. It felt like a tub of icy water had been poured over Harry's head.

"I put a sleep spell on her," said Dumbledore calmly. "She will have pleasant dreams, I promise."

Harry opened his eyes. Indeed, he now noticed that Daphne's torso rose and fell regularly. Her sleeping face looked perfectly peaceful, only the tears and small bubbles in front of her nostrils evidence of her previous crying. Tenderly, Harry brushed her hair from her face. He had thought that he would never see her again, never hold her in his arms again. It was a miracle, a wonderful, marvelous miracle...

"I thought she could use some rest," continued Dumbledore. "But we need to talk, Harry. You must tell me everything that happened tonight. Harry, do you hear me? Harry?" Dumbledore grabbed Harry by the shoulder, causing him to flinch. "Do you hear me, Harry? Daphne is fine, I promise you. But I need to talk to you. It's of extreme importance that you –"

Harry looked at Dumbledore, remembering his mother's words. Tell Dumbledore about it. He will be able to help you. Have trust, Harry.

"Yes," Harry croaked out, his voice not yet used to speaking again. "I'll tell you what happened." He looked back at the sleeping Daphne. "When ... when will she wake up?"

"It's not a powerful sleep spell," replied Dumbledore. "She will probably wake up soon, but first you have to tell me what happened. Daphne already told me something when you were brought to the hospital wing, but only fragmentarily and incoherently. She was so scared for you."

Harry felt a stab in his heart. Sadly, he looked at his partner. When could they finally lead a quiet, happy life without constant fear and despair? Not until Voldemort was dead, maybe not even then...

He'd died tonight! He'd been dead, at least for a while. Everything could be over so quickly, every happiness just a snapshot, fleeting like the morning mist. If you wanted something, you couldn't hesitate, because tomorrow it could all be over.

Looking to the side, Harry saw his wand on the bedside table. He quickly grabbed it, pointing it at Daphne and letting her float on his bed. Lovingly he put his blanket over her. What would he see if he entered her dreams now?

"Harry, we don't have much time," urged Dumbledore.

Harry nodded briefly. Dumbledore was right. Starting tonight they were at war with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Time and information were precious resources in war.

He took a deep breath and began to speak. He told of the cursed cup that had brought him far from Hogwarts to the stone circle of Stonehenge. He told about his masked abductors and how helpless he had been at their mercy. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw Quirrel's disfigured, suppurating face, the figures tied to the stones, and Snape bending over the potion – at the mention of Snape, a deep sadness lay on Dumbledore's features.

In a shaky voice, he told how Barty Crouch Jr., whose survival seemed to confuse Dumbledore, had skinned his little finger. When he got to the ritual, Harry paused before telling in an almost whisper how Crouch's throat was slit by his son, how Moody's hand was chopped off before he was stabbed in the heart, and how his back had been skinned.

At Moody's death, Dumbledore slumped in his chair. Harry even saw him dash away several tears.

Harry went on; he described how Voldemort had drunk the potion and had thus been able to return in a new, healthy body. He told how Voldemort had called the Death Eaters and all he could remember of Voldemort's speech. However, he did not mention Voldemort whispering in his ear that he knew that Daphne was his daughter and what disgusting plans he had for her.

Then he told how Voldemort had untied him, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel. When he got to the moment he realized that he wouldn't survive, his voice failed. Never could he tell Dumbledore what he had thought at that moment. It was too personal, just between him and Daphne…

"Then Voldemort's killing curse hit me," he said quickly. "I died."

Dumbledore leaned forward intently, urging him to continue.

"But I still existed," Harry said hesitantly, struggling for words. "I was in a kind of world between life and death. There I met my mother. She ... she told me that I could decide whether I want to die or return to life ... because the killing curse ... it only takes one soul as a tribute ... and in me was more than one soul. When Voldemort failed to kill me ... when his own killing curse bounced back on him ... part of his soul was split off. That soul piece clung to me. She also told me that Voldemort made several such soul containers ... all of them, all of these soul containers must be destroyed before Voldemort can be killed..."

Harry stopped. All of a sudden, he remembered something, long days over old parchment scrolls in Alexandria. He had read of such soul containers before, he realized. In the texts from the restricted area of the library, in which they had searched for ways to save Valeydis' soul, the same texts that they had used for their soul ritual. Yet other, much, much more heinous rituals had been described in these texts as well. Vile, repulsive atrocities, an iniquity against magic itself; the splitting of one's soul to attain supposed immortality. Horcruxes. Harry shuddered.

"What happened then?" Dumbledore asked in an excited voice. "How did you decide?"

Harry cleared his throat before continuing in a husky voice, "I decided to return to life. I ... I opened my eyes to see Daphne above me. Fire raged around her. Fawkes was there too. He killed Voldemort's snake before taking us back to Hogwarts. You know the rest."

Thoughtfully, Dumbledore stroked his long white beard. "A lot of what you just told me was very insightful," he said after a few moments of silence. "Just like the things you didn't say. I have one more question in particular: How was Daphne able to come to you when all the professors including me and the entire ministry couldn't find out where you went… Harry, the time for excuses and falsehoods is over." Dumbledore leaned forward, appearing to look directly into Harry with his light blue eyes. "What did you and Daphne do?"

Harry winced but didn't shirk from Dumbledore's gaze. It had been inevitable that the truth would come to light eventually. "They all say you're oh so clever and wise, Professor," he replied as firm as possible. "What do you think?"

The air seemed to crackle with tension while Dumbledore looked him straight in the eyes, even seemed to X-ray him, as if he were capturing his entire being, life, past, present, and future in every detail.

After an eternity, but perhaps just a few seconds, Dumbledore finally sighed. "You're connected," he whispered. It wasn't a question.

Harry nodded.

"Your souls?"

Harry nodded again.

"Alexandria?"

Another nod.

For a moment, Dumbledore's body trembled before he had himself under control again and asked in a calm voice, "Who did you kill?"

"That wasn't necessary," Harry lied. He had already told Dumbledore enough that he would certainly not admit murder to him, even if it was only a bloody Death Eater. Part of him, however, wondered why Dumbledore was so familiar with the requirements of a soul bond…

An uncomfortable silence spread between them. Harry could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Tightening the mental barriers around his mind, he held Dumbledore's gaze. He had been able to fend off Voldemort, so he would be able to do the same with Dumbledore, he thought resolutely. However, the expected attack on his mind never happened…

"Harry, you –" Dumbledore finally began, but Harry immediately cut him off.

"No, Dumbledore," he said. "You have forfeited any right to interfere in Daphne's and my life. You all have. But you are not our enemy, that is Voldemort. So if this is our common ground, we can work together."

This time it was Harry who eyed Dumbledore carefully. How would their headmaster decide?

Dumbledore's gaze slid to the window. The starry sky was reflected in his half-moon glasses as he asked in a calm voice, "What is your goal, Harry? What is the goal of you two?"

Harry didn't have to think twice. "Happiness. Love. A family. Just a quiet life away from all this shit. We are through with the world, Professor. We don't expect anything from it anymore."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "That is your goal?" he asked in surprise. "I thought ... What about your words in front of the Mirror of Erised?"

Images flashed in Harry's mind; he and Daphne in front of a large mirror in a moonlit room. Daphne's revelation. The breaking of her mask. The horrible truth. At that moment they had been completely honest with each other for the first time ... Finally, their pact to walk their path through life together, to rewrite their sad story. Since that day over three years ago they had been partners. It still bothered Harry that Dumbledore had spied on them at that important, so personal turning point in their life...

"Nothing has changed about that," Harry replied in a shaky voice, stirred up by the sudden memories. "We are our own masters. Neither you nor Voldemort nor anyone else in this damn world is going to determine our lives. For this we learn every day so that we can finally be free."

"That sounds like a very lonely life, Harry..."

Harry shrugged. "We were always alone, Daphne and I ... until we met. We have no problem being alone. And now tell me, Professor, are we also alone in our fight against Voldemort, or will you help us?"

Dumbledore remained silent. One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds. More than a minute passed before Dumbledore finally sighed. "I wished for a different life for you," he whispered. "And for Daphne too. Every single day I blame myself..."

"Your self-pity comes to nothing," Harry hissed. "Just like your well-sounding words. Will you now help us destroy Voldemort's… soul containers?" He'd almost used the term Horcruxes. That wouldn't have been good. He shouldn't shock Dumbledore any more than he already did.

Reluctantly, Dumbledore nodded. "I ... I will," he said. "I think I already know what these containers are, how they basically work, but I will look into it."

"My mother told me he made several," Harry said. "How many of these things are there that we need to find and destroy?"

"That's a good question," Dumbledore responded, stroking his beard. "I've never heard of anyone making more than one of these soul containers. I'll look into that too..." Suddenly, a jerk went through Dumbledore's body. He raised his head, a sparkle in his eyes, reminding Harry a bit of Daphne when she deciphered a complicated rune text.

"The diary!" shouted Dumbledore. "Two years ago. You told me that Tom Riddle's spirit was in a diary. You destroyed it..." Suddenly, he jumped up, grabbing Harry by the shoulder. "Harry! How did you destroy the diary? Tell me! The truth! That's incredibly important!"

Harry put on his thinking cap, remembering again the Alexandria scrolls. Dumbledore was right. A Horcrux could not be destroyed by ordinary means. It would be harmful to hold on to his lie.

"Fiendfyre," Harry replied curtly. "I unleashed Fiendfyre. That destroyed the diary."

Triumph flashed in Dumbledore's eyes. "Then it was a Horcrux!" he shouted. "A soul container, that is. Then you've already destroyed one, then –" Dumbledore froze, his eyes widening. "You used Fiendfyre?" he asked incredulously.

"Are you really surprised?" Harry replied with a shrug. "It was the only way Daphne and I could survive. I would do it again anytime."

Dumbledore fell back in his chair. "Then ... then that's how Miss Weasley died..."

Harry felt like he had swallowed a large lump of ice. "Yes," he muttered. "It wasn't intended. If I could have saved her I would have, but she was already lost. It was the only way we could defeat Voldemort's memory… otherwise Daphne would be dead now – I will never allow that!" His voice had grown noticeably louder, the last words he almost shouted in Dumbledore's face.

Dumbledore sighed but otherwise remained silent.

All of a sudden, Harry remembered something else. The diary! The diary had been a Horcrux. The diary that had been in Lucius Malfoy's possession. And shortly before his death, Malfoy had said that there wasn't just the diary. He had mentioned his sister-in-law, whoever that was. Was she also keeping one of Voldemort's Horcruxes? Everything pointed to it. But he couldn't tell Dumbledore without revealing to him that they were responsible for Malfoy's death. He had to talk to Daphne...

"What are we going to do now?" Harry asked, trying to bring the conversation to an early conclusion. His heart was pounding, but at the same time he felt incredibly exhausted and tired.

"You will rest," replied Dumbledore, rising from his chair, which he vanished with a flick of his wand. "Fawkes' tears are powerful and have restored the skin on your back and finger, but your body has to get used to the new tissue. And you've almost completely used up your strength and energy…" Dumbledore hesitated. "At some point, we also have to talk about what Fawkes sees in you two, that he supports you time after time, because that is something I never experienced before in all my years..."

"If Fawkes doesn't share his motives with you, it's not up to us to tell you," Harry replied calmly.

"From your answer, I conclude that there has been more between you, Daphne, and Fawkes than I previously suspected. But I trust Fawkes ... Harry, today's events changed everything. I know more about you now, and about your relationship with Daphne. I won't tell anyone, don't worry. And I ... I hope that your wish will come true one day."

Harry nodded gratefully to Dumbledore. He was glad that he – at least for the time being, but also preferably in the future – wouldn't be their enemy.

"I, in turn, will begin to muster the resistance and organize the fight against Voldemort," Dumbledore continued. "Of course, the fact that Cornelius refuses to see the truth plays directly into Voldemort's hands. Thus, it is all the more important that we act resolutely. I'll get back to you when I have more information, including about Voldemort's soul containers. Until then, please stay away from danger ... Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Professor," Harry replied.

Dumbledore closed the door to the hospital wing behind him, leaving Harry with the peacefully sleeping Daphne. Harry felt how his tiredness and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him again, but there was one more thing he had to do. Tenderly, careful not to wake Daphne, he cleaned her face of soot and traces of tears. That nobody had done that before...

With a last kiss on his partner's forehead and his arms around her warm body, he plunged into their shared dream world.


The gravel crunched beneath Harry's feet as he walked along an unknown lake. On the opposite side of the water, he could see a small village that Harry had never seen before either. He didn't really care, though, for he only had eyes for his target in front of him. Sitting on a wooden bench, he saw Daphne, the wind playing with her honey-blonde strands, a sight Harry would never tire of looking at.

"Hey, Princess," he said as he sat down on the bench with Daphne. He could still feel her inner turmoil, albeit a bit fuzzier than in reality, like everything in the dream world. It was like seeing a sunny garden through a steamed-up window, like a fog that wrapped itself around one's consciousness.

Daphne looked at him, and, for a brief moment, Harry thought he saw painful longing in her blue irides before she abruptly turned her head away, gripped by a kind of deep wistfulness. "Hello," she whispered.

"You know," said Harry, "Reality Daphne was acting kind of weird. Something seems to bother her, even terrify her. Can Dream Daphne perhaps help me get to the bottom of her emotional state? I would like to help her if I can, because I love her very much."

Daphne's body started to tremble in every joint. The sight hurt Harry's heart, but he also knew that he couldn't press Daphne to do anything. She had to open up to him on her own.

He waited patiently until Daphne replied in a low voice, "The reason is that ... that ... Reality Daphne ... she is a stupid girl who always worries about stupid things. She has so many fears and doubts..." Her voice broke.

"What is she afraid of?" Harry asked, his voice little more than a breath in the wind, his heart pounding wildly. Cautiously, he reached out his hand until he finally touched Daphne's shoulder. A cozy warmth spread inside him.

Daphne turned her head, looking him straight in the face. Her blue eyes were filled with glistening tears. "She ... she promised never to doubt their love again," she replied in a shaky voice, "but ... but she can't help herself. When Reality Harry shared his memories with her ... that part of Voldemort's soul was in him, a soul piece of her ... her begetter ... and the words of his mother..."

Suddenly Daphne threw her arms around Harry's neck, hot tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh, Harry," she blubbered out. "I'm so scared. It eats me up, tears me apart. I'm scared that… that the affection you've felt for me only comes from this soul piece… that you don't really love me." Daphne spoke faster and faster. "That you'll turn away from me because of your mother's words ... because I'm such a terrible person..."

"Daphne" Harry tried to interrupt her, but Daphne just kept talking, her head in his neck, sobbing and crying.

"I can't be what your mother hopes for you. I can't let more love in my heart. There is only a hole ... only you can fill this dark abyss in me, nobody else! But ... but if I show my true self, you'll leave me, abandon me ... then I'll be alone again..."

"You're not alone," Harry called out as loud as he could. He grabbed Daphne's shoulder and chin, making her look at him. "Daphne, I love you! I'll always love you! We are one, remember? We'll be together forever!"

"But what if it wasn't your own decision?" sobbed Daphne. "What if that was just Voldemort's soul piece? How else could you like me, this pathetic girl? Nobody ever liked me, nobody…" Daphne closed her eyes, her whole body shaking with her tears. "I ... I'm not good for you ... I ... I..."

"Daphne! Daphne", Harry shouted desperately, also tears in his eyes. Damn, how could he show Daphne his feelings? "Daphne, look at me! Look at me!" Harry stroked her cheek, hair, and upper arms. "Look at me, love. Please, please look at me."

Daphne opened her eyes and a feeling of crushing despair overwhelmed him.

"Daph, you can feel my feelings," he called. "What am I feeling, Daph? What am I feeling?"

Daphne hesitated, her lips trembling.

"What am I feeling?" Harry repeated, tightening his grip on Daphne's body. "What am I feeling?"

"Exhaustion," Daphne whispered so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear her. "Pain…"

"And?" Harry said, looking Daphne straight in the eyes, seeing nothing more than her beautiful blue pupils, reflecting his face.

"W-Worry," Daphne stammered.

"And?" Harry pressed. Damn, couldn't she see it? "What am I feeling, Daphne?"

Daphne's body trembled. "L-Love," she sobbed. "I feel your love. It... it wraps around me, warms me ... it feels so wonderful..."

"See?" Harry said triumphantly. "I love you, Daphne! More than anything else in the world. You can feel it yourself. And you know what? I still love you! Although Voldemort's soul piece is no longer inside me, I love you. I love you so much, Daphne. Just for you I came back from the dead ... so that I could see you again, hold you again, kiss you again..."

Leaning forward, Harry lifted Daphne's head and pressed his lips to hers. He felt like he was struck by lightning, an electrifying warmth settling around his heart. Goosebumps formed all over his body. It just felt right, despite the salty taste of their tears. This was right, he felt it. He was incomplete without Daphne, just as Daphne was incomplete without him. They belonged together as if fate itself had wanted them to find each other, to save one another…

After what felt like an eternity, they broke away from each other, dreamy smiles on their faces. "And?" Harry asked, panting slightly. "Do you feel it? That I will always love you? Just as I know that you will always love me."

Daphne nodded, wiping the tears from her face.

"And of course my parents would have wished for a different life for both of us," Harry continued, clutching Daphne's hands. "I would have wished for a different life for both of us myself. I ... I have often doubted many of my decisions, but never have I doubted loving you, my Daphne. And I've never regretted meeting you. But ... but at Stonehenge I felt remorse ... when I decided to die to protect you ... I ... I ..."

Harry searched in vain for the right words when suddenly Daphne squeezed his hands, her fingers shaking.

"Please, Harry," she pleaded, "please don't talk about death. I can't live without you, I need you..."

"But I died, Daphne! For a moment it was all over ... and we have so many enemies, every day could be our last."

"Harry..."

"No, Daphne, please let me finish. I died, I was dead, and only through sheer luck could I come back to life, back to you. Daphne, I love you! I want to be with you forever, I want to grow old with you, but ... but reality is that we can't know what the future will bring ... every single day is precious, you can't wait for anything in life. I ... I know we're already more connected than two people can be. But I also want the whole world to know that we both belong together, that we are one..."

Harry took a deep breath. Now or never. Daphne's eyes widened as she grasped his intention.

"Daphne," Harry whispered, looking directly into her eyes, "do you want to marry me?"

Their dream world came to a halt. The ducks' splashing fell silent, the wind stilled, and Harry held his breath. With a pounding heart, he watched his soulmate's reaction.

Daphne looked at him with wide eyes, processing his words. Then, slowly, as if in slow motion, a smile settled on her lips. It was a smile, as beautiful as the sunrise after a long night, as promising as the stars in the night sky. It was that smile that had drawn Harry to Daphne from the very beginning, that he would never tire of seeing, a smile that engulfed Harry's heart in flames of joy.

"Yes, Harry," whispered Daphne, her voice making the air vibrate. Harry shuddered. "I want to marry you."

That was it. Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He released his hands from Daphne's to take her in his arms instead. Hugging her lovingly, he felt her body against his, every single detail, smelled her bewitching scent, felt their bound souls rejoice. "Daphne, you make me the happiest man in the world!"

"No," Daphne said as she returned his embrace in the same way, radiating overwhelming joy. "You make me the happiest woman in the world!"

Harry had no idea how long they held each other, enjoying the peace they had found in and with each other. Eventually, they broke away from one another, smiling happily. Both could feel the love, the promise in the other.

"We're a strange couple, aren't we?" giggled Daphne. "Do you really think you can put up with me stupid girl for the rest of your life and beyond?"

"You're not stupid, Daph," Harry said tenderly, brushing a strand from her face. "Sometimes you just worry stupidly. Never again, yes?"

"I'll try," Daphne replied, a crooked smile on her face.

"I'll never let anything worry you again," Harry said, though a small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that this wasn't just in his hands. But he would deal with the possible obstacles to their happiness when they were faced with them. At that moment, in this wonderful dream, as their bodies were safe and sound in bed in the hospital wing, they were not important.

Harry leaned forward, kissing Daphne again. He would never get enough of that either. Magic, there was no other explanation for the intoxicating feeling when he felt Daphne's soft lips on his. A magic that would light up the darkness around them.

The hours passed while they just caressed each other, surrendering to their mutual love. At some point, they had enough of the sun and a brief effort later, the silver light of the moon shone down on them, accompanied by the twinkling of countless stars at the firmament.

Her head on Harry's shoulder, Daphne sighed in satisfaction. "I think this is one of my new favorite dreams," she whispered.

"Where are we anyway?" Harry asked. "I've never seen this place before."

From Daphne, a brief sense of bitterness spilled over to him, before she replied in a calm voice, "This place is not far from my parents' house. Once I ran here when I was a little kid after they tortured me again… For a moment I thought about throwing myself in the water and ending it all." Harry tightened his grip on Daphne's shoulders. "But I'm glad I didn't."

"Me too, Daph, me too" Harry muttered. He didn't even want to imagine life without Daphne. His gaze wandered to the village on the opposite side of the lake, to the church that towered over the other roofs. "Then this is the place where –"

"Yes," Daphne confirmed his thoughts, her voice taking on an icy touch. "This is the church tower where I forced my parents to hang themselves. My first great sin in the eyes of the world..."

"No sin," Harry replied vehemently, "but justice. So you chose this place because you think it is an incarnation of your sins? The sins for which you feared I might turn away from you?"

Daphne didn't have to answer, Harry could see the answer in her thundering emotions. Still, she said softly, "Not anymore. I now see the truth in its terrible beauty."

Silence fell between the couple before Daphne suddenly started giggling again.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked with a smile. In Daphne's mind, he only caught a few memories of some very intimate scenes between the two of them.

"I just thought about your mother's words," Daphne replied with a giggle. "She said they saw everything. Do you think they've –"

Even before she finished speaking, Harry felt the blood rush to his head, causing Daphne to give a ringing laugh.


Remus felt incredibly exhausted as he entered the hospital wing. One of the longest and worst nights of his life lay behind him, only surpassed by Halloween fourteen years ago.

Shuddering, he recalled the events of the past few hours. First the third task, which had turned into an absolute nightmare, with Harry going wild, slaughtering creature after creature. Then Harry's disappearance, shortly afterwards that of Daphne. The fear when he'd had no idea what was going on, helpless, unable to do anything. Finally their return. Daphne screaming in panic, Harry's ... Harry's back...

The students had been distraught. It had taken hours to get everyone in their beds; hours in which Remus had been waiting desperately for someone to finally explain to him what happened. Then, well after midnight, Dumbledore had finally called him and Minerva into his office, revealing to them what Harry had experienced that night, what had happened at Stonehenge.

They had spent the rest of the night making plans. They would gather the old resistance, but they would also need new supporters, too many had died in the last war, especially since Snape had apparently betrayed them. Remus vowed to kill him for what he had done to James and Lily's child.

No, he should stop thinking of Harry as just their child, Remus admonished himself. He was so different from his two friends, so different from what he had expected. That Harry was in Slytherin and loved the daughter of followers of Voldemort, were only the slightest differences, but that he used magic of the darkest kind, apparently enjoying it, screaming in ecstasy in the maze as the blood trickled down on him had shaken Remus to the core. Was that really only Daphne's influence, as he had accused her at that moment?

Daphne's words had been revealing. They both thought the entire world had conspired against them. They had suffered a lot ... the darkness within them was just as much his fault as the fault of any other person in this world who had hurt and despised them.

Remus plunked down into a conjured chair in front of Harry's bed, on which Daphne was also lying, both huggling together. He should have expected it, after all the two of them were truly inseparable. Remus had never seen anything like that before. They loved each other, that much was obvious, but instead of romantic he often found their behavior just eerie. This was not how fourteen-year-old teenagers should behave. Sometimes he even had the feeling that the two could read each other's minds, considering how they would communicate completely wordlessly and always seemed to know what the other was thinking.

Remus smothered a yawn; he hadn't slept a second that night. The first rays of the morning sun already fell through the windows, bathing the room in an orange glow. Before he could go to sleep, however, he had to talk to Harry.

He didn't have to wait long, but it was Daphne who opened her eyes first. For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, while memories of the previous evening flashed through Remus' mind. Daphne, how she followed the events in the maze with a creepy grin on her face, how she angrily dismissed his accusations, how she suddenly collapsed in her seat...

Finally, it was Daphne who broke eye contact, tenderly stroking Harry's shoulder. A jerk went through Harry's body. Opening his eyes, Harry straightened up, stifling a yawn.

"Good morning, Professor," Harry muttered, courteous and distant as always. "To what do we owe the honor of your early visit?" Harry's eyes slid to the window. "The sun hasn't even risen yet."

"Harry," Remus said, fighting his insecurity, "I need to talk to you. Daphne can stay, but most of all I have to talk to you."

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look. Once again, it seemed to Remus that they were silently communicating. Harry frowned before turning back to Remus. "Go ahead, Professor," he replied calmly, but Remus heard a trace of suspicion in his voice.

Remus took a breath. That wouldn't be easy, but it was necessary. "Harry," he said, "I've known you since you were a baby. Even when you were born, I was there. I ... I loved your parents and ... when I met you for the first time since then last year, I swore to protect you to make up for my ... my failures. But ... I failed again. I disappointed myself, I disappointed your parents, and most of all I disappointed you, Harry. Your ... your life is much more painful and darker than I wished for you, than I could have ever imagined. The world was cruel to you, and that is also my failure."

Remus leaned forward, meeting Harry's eyes. "But at the end of the day, you are responsible for your actions. Everyone decides for themselves what kind of person they want to be. So ... so what was that yesterday, Harry? You're not a murderer, nor a bad person, or do you enjoy killing? Do you want to be that kind of person? Someone who delights in the suffering of other beings?"

Remus' heart pounded in his chest, almost painfully, as he watched Harry's reaction.

Harry froze, only his hands squeezing Daphne's. His face showed no emotion as he slowly turned his head away from Remus, only to communicate silently with Daphne again. It felt like half an eternity, in which the two teenagers were just staring at each other. Daphne distorted her mouth but finally nodded slightly.

Harry turned back to Remus. "You're right, Professor," he said quietly. "Yesterday ... I lost my temper. This damn tournament in which I never wanted to participate in the first place ... I wanted to scare the world off, I wanted it to be disgusted with me, I wanted it to finally leave us alone ... after the second task, all the accusations and insults, I ... I wanted to show everyone ... that I'm better than the other champions ... and I wanted to make my parents proud."

Harry's words broke Remus' heart. "Harry," he said hesitantly, "your parents –"

"I know they love me," Harry interrupted him, a glint in his eyes. "Mum, Dad, they love me and watch over me, but ... but I also know that it hurts them to see me like yesterday."

Daphne laid her head on Harry's shoulder, stroking his back lovingly.

Obviously struggling for words, Harry continued, "The rush of magic came over me. I ... I was no longer able to think clearly, everything felt like a dream. I can't even remember most of what happened in the maze, only fragments, images in my head."

"Do you mean the magic you discovered in Alexandria?" Remus asked cautiously. "Was that the magic you used yesterday?"

Harry nodded.

"Maybe you shouldn't use it anymore," Remus continued. "Maybe –"

"No!" Harry and Daphne shouted simultaneously.

The two glanced at each other before Harry spoke again, "This magic is the only reason Daphne and I escaped yesterday, that we're still alive."

Remus swallowed. "Dumbledore already told me it was very close," he whispered in a broken voice. "That you almost didn't make it..."

"That's right!" Harry called out loud. "Daphne and I realized how short life can be. That's why ... that's why we decided ... we decided to get married!"

Remus blinked in confusion. Had he just misheard or had Harry –

Before Remus could complete his thought, Harry continued, "Professor ... Remus, you're my parents' last living friend, my last connection with them. Since they cannot be present at my wedding, I want you to be with me. So ... Remus, I'd love to have you as my best man if you agree."

Remus opened his mouth but couldn't get a word out. In surprise, he looked at the couple, chaos in his head.

"What, Professor?" Daphne asked in a sweetish tone Remus had never heard from the young witch before. However, something in her voice made Remus shudder. "Would you like to be Harry's best man?" Daphne continued. "Would you do us this favor?"

Best man? He? James had chosen Sirius back then, but he should be his son's best man now?

Remus felt dizzy as all these thoughts shot through his mind, memories of a wedding under a bright blue sky and warm sun. It had been one of the most beautiful days of his life, together with all the people who had meant something to him, his friends...

"Please, Remus," said Harry. "That would mean a lot to me."

Harry had never called him by his first name before today. His voice sounded almost like James'...

"Yes," Remus croaked, his voice barely more than a rattle. Coughing, he looked Harry straight in the eye. "Yes, I'd like to be your best man."

Remus kept quiet about his doubts that the two were actually far too young to marry. In no case did he want to endanger this new trust between Harry and himself, this unexpected rapprochement. This was the only way he could protect Harry; protect him from the cruelty of the world, from his girlfriend, whose mercilessness yesterday still gave him a chill, and from the darkness within himself.

Harry didn't have a loving family. And although Remus couldn't replace his parents, he would do anything to show Harry that life could be beautiful; a lesson they could probably both use…

They then spoke for a few minutes about the rest of yesterday's events, even if it was obvious that Harry was reluctant to talk about them. Eventually, Remus was chased out by Madam Pomfrey. Her patients needed rest, she admonished him reproachfully, and anyway, it was time for breakfast now.

Wearily, Remus dragged his feet towards the doors. The conversation with Harry and Daphne had further exhausted him, his body and mind only yearning for his soft bed and long, restful sleep. He thus only marginally noticed how the door to the hospital wing opened before him and Karkaroff and Bagman entered. Yawning, he nodded to them, but they didn't respond. Remus frowned, though he was used to the fact that people often ignored him in his shabby clothes.

He passed the two men and had just crossed the doorstep, before suddenly a question came to his mind. What were Karkaroff and Bagman doing in the hospital wing?!

Remus spun around, suddenly wide awake. Time seemed to stand still. All noises around him ceased. He saw Harry and Daphne sitting on the bed, eating their breakfast and laughing together. They hadn't noticed the newcomers yet who had stopped in the middle of the room, pulling out their wands, pointing them straight at Harry.

Then everything went very quickly.

Remus' body reacted by itself. Emitting a panicked cry, he grabbed his wand. Without thinking, he fired two curses into the backs of Karkaroff and Bagman. They spun around, blocking the poorly targeted curses. Remus was about to continue attacking them when suddenly there was a loud bang. The next moment Remus was covered in a thick, warm liquid.

Remus blinked, his blood rushing in his ears. His hands, his entire body trembled with excitement, but Karkaroff and Bagman were gone, smoking air where they had just been standing. The entire hospital wing was covered in blood and scraps of flesh.

"Harry!" Daphne shrieked. "What did you do? Everything is full of blood. Yuck!"

"Me?" Harry said indignantly. "That was your spell!"

"Certainly not!"

Stunned, unable to think clearly, Remus slumped on the blood-splattered floor. That just couldn't be true...


Tired, Remus collapsed into the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. It was now noon and he still hadn't slept a second. It had taken several hours to clean and cover up the mess in the hospital wing. With Karkaroff's dark deeds and Bagman's betting debts, it was at least credible that the two had fled.

He heard Dumbledore sit down in his golden chair with a sigh. Remus looked up to see Dumbledore's phoenix seated in the headmaster's lap. The phoenix still puzzled Remus. Not only did Daphne's Patronus look just like him, but he also kept turning to them.

"At least we now know who was involved in the plot," Dumbledore's voice tore him from his thoughts. "The only question is whether they were under the Imperius curse or other mental controls, or whether they acted of their own accord."

"It doesn't matter anymore, doesn't it," Remus muttered darkly. "They're dead and can't tell us." He swallowed. He would never forget the sight of the exploded bodies of Karkaroff and Bagman. Or how the blood-stained Harry thanked him for the rescue afterwards.

"It does matter," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Knowing this could help us understand why Severus helped with Voldemort's ritual –"

"What is there to understand?" Remus hissed. "He betrayed us, that happened. He always hated James. And that hatred passed on to Harry."

"Are you sure about that, Remus?"

"Oh yes! And the next time I see him, I'll make him pay for what he's done. If Harry doesn't get him before ... you've seen what he's capable of."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Yes, I have," he said. "And I assume that Daphne also killed several Death Eaters at Stonehenge."

Both wizards fell into a pensive silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. Remus tore his sparse hair. He felt like in a single day the whole world around him had turned upside down, for the second time in his life.

"When are you going to leave for the werewolves?" Dumbledore finally broke the silence.

Remus sighed. Yes, that that had been their plan that night. He would go to the werewolves to convince them not to fight for Voldemort, while other emissaries would go to other magical races. However, this plan was now obsolete...

"I'm not going at all," Remus replied, and before Dumbledore could object, he hurried on, "The chances of success are negligible anyway. Too much we've been ostracized and discriminated against by the Ministry and society. No, I will accompany Harry to Grimmauld Place and stay with him for the summer."

They had decided to make the ancestral home of the Blacks the new headquarters of the re-established Order of the Phoenix. Only Harry had to give his approval as heir to Sirius and owner of the house.

Dumbledore was silent for a few moments before getting up and walking to the window. "Yes, that might not be the worst idea," he muttered quietly while looking at the numerous students who were enjoying the day off. Some Hufflepuffs even played with a frisbee. "Be there for him, Remus. Show him love and warmth, maybe we can still save them..."


Hand in hand, Harry and Daphne walked along the platform in Hogsmeade, past the other students who avoided their eyes as usual. Their ostracism had only intensified since it was the official position of the Ministry of Magic that they had both gone mad. The newspapers also repeated every day that they were disturbed and possibly even dangerous. Thus, it came as no revelation that no one believed their warnings about Voldemort's return, even though Dumbledore supported them.

Yet despite all the horrors of the present and the dangers of the future, Harry smiled as he helped Daphne board the Hogwarts Express, which gleamed majestically in the brilliant sun. He smiled because he had Daphne by his side. Together they could survive anything, together they would defeat Voldemort and his henchmen and triumph over the world, he was sure of that. Together they would create their own future.

Tenderly, he squeezed the hand of his friend, confidante, soulmate, and soon-to-be wife.

Daphne must have caught his thoughts, for she suddenly turned her head, giving him her beautiful smile, which alone was worth living for.


Overwhelmed with joy, Daphne returned Harry's smile, his love and thoughts of their future together wrapping around her like a warming cloak.

Daphne Potter? That was music to her ears!


Next chapter: A Game of Socks

Preview:

"Hey, stop cheating," Harry complained, but Daphne just grinned at him.


AN:

The title of the chapter could probably also have been "Dialogues, Dialogues, and Dialogues" :D What was your favorite conversation from this chapter? And what do you think will happen over the summer?