Author's Note: A few of you mentioned not making Daphne too powerful - I am in complete agreement and that is one of my worries as of right now. The only reason I figured she had to be somewhat powerful and able to beat Harry is how else would she convince him to help him? But yes, I'm going to figure out where she'll have her limits.
Also, whoops, this update took longer than I expected! A creative writing assignment from school took most of my creative juices up, and then I wanted to get a chapter up of Realization.
Question: Would you prefer more frequent updates with shorter chapters (around this length) or fewer updates with longer chapters (maybe like a little longer than the last chapter)?
Chapter 3: Three Miles
From Chapter Two:
He pretended to think for a second, despite having already made his decision a few days ago. "Looks like you're stuck with me," he responded.
She rolled her eyes, "How tragic. Here I was hoping you'd say no."
Harry swore Daphne was sadistic. He had no idea where she got her ideas from, but when she said she was going to train him, he thought she really meant torturre him.
Currently, he was running his Daphne-enforced 2 mile lap around the Quidditch pitch before breakfast - apparently, his claims of Quidditch practice keeping him in shape was not enough. The girl had said he needed more. On top of that, she was following him on a broom (apparently her workout was done earlier, when did she even wake up?) occasionally shooting stinging hexes at him that he was supposed to dodge as she yelled at him to run faster. How on earth was this fair? His back was already going to be sore from running, the hexes wouldn't help.
Harry flinched as yet another hex hit him, having been unable to dodge. "I'm going easy on you Potter! If I was a Death Eater, you'd be dead by now!" Daphne shouted from a few meters above him.
Harry groaned as he dodged another before crossing the imaginary finish line, falling onto the grass. Daphne chuckled as she landed beside him. "How are you feeling Potter?"
He glared at her, only causing her to burst into giggles. "See you after dinner Potter, same time. Oh, and take a shower. You're dripping in sweat."
With that, she stalked away, leaving him in a heap on the ground.
/
The following few weeks continued to be some of the hardest days for Harry - Daphne couldn't risk being seen with him, Merlin forbid one of the Slytherins attack her for helping who they saw as an enemy. She wouldn't be safe in her own bed. From after his morning workout until after dinner, he withstood the odd-handed remarks and glares directed at him from the whole school. This whole ordeal was worse than when everyone thought he was the Heir of Slytherin, because this time he didn't have Ron or Hermione.
Training with Daphne went as always, he had pretty much caught up to her in magical knowledge. They were now finishing up the seventh year curriculum, making their way through learning the spells and potions. Daphne usually tended to pick up the spells faster than he did, but once he picked them up, his spells were far more powerful than Daphne's.
They were also looking into what the task would be. They had no major leads, but by studying past year's tournaments, they knew it was probably some kind of a magical creature. There were just too many magical creatures that it would be impossible to prepare for them all. For now, they just practiced every type of magic they could put their hands on.
/
One Saturday morning run session, as Daphne chased him down on her broom, she suddenly pulled away, swerving her broom up into the sky. "Daphne! Where are you going?" he shouted, panting from the ground. "Daphne!"
She didn't respond, probably couldn't even hear him. With the general direction she was flying, it seemed she was heading towards the Forbidden Forest. Why would she take off so suddenly? Without saying a word?
She quickly disappeared from sight. He thought about running after her, instead of finishing up the two-mile run, but knew better - he would not be able to catch her, and she was Daphne. She wouldn't do something without calculating the pros and cons. She could look after herself.
Harry slowly found that he enjoyed these runs (other than the stinging hexes shot his way) - just like flying, he found that running was freeing. He found the reason why he enjoyed Quidditch was for the thrill of the flying feeling - playing as a seeker allowed him the most freedom to fly. It wasn't that he enjoyed catching snitch, he just enjoyed maneuvering through the other players and flying at high speeds.
As he finished yet another lap around the pitch, a few laps remaining, he saw a figure on a broom speeding down towards him. Daphne. As she approached, he saw her facial expression - shocked? concerned? What had she seen?
She was now a few meters above him. He was about to slow down, but despite the grim look on her face, she sent on a stinging hex towards his bottom, shouting, "Don't stop, Potter! 2 miles. Then you get a break."
With that, he sped up to his faster pace, his arms pumping on his sides. His mind was racing - he had never seen Daphne that uncomposed. She had seen something. What could she have seen? Even her spellwork seemed off - the hexes she sent at him were off target more than not, and the ones that did hit were weaker.
When he finally reached the finish, he headed to a nearby bench to grab a sip of water and Daphne landed on her broom, climbing onto the bench and sat next to him. They sat in silence for a bit, shoulder to shoulder, as he regained his breath. "Daph.. where did you go?"
She sat silent for a second. In the hardest voice he had heard her use, she replied, "I was chasing you, when I saw a flash of orange. Fire. I was curious, so I flew a little higher. Nothing much. A little higher, and then I saw it."
Harry remained confused, "What did you see?"
Once again, she paused before answering simply, "Dragons, Harry. Dragons. They expect you to fight a dragon."
Harry felt his heart wrench. How did he have any chance against them. The image of him getting burnt alive by a ginormous dragon flooded his mind. Ron and Malfoy would be cheering on the sidelines, saying that he deserved this death. Hermione would maybe be upset, and Daphne would probably be the only who would genuinely grieve his death. He would die, and no one other than her would believe the truth - he simply hadn't entered his name in the goblet.
"Dragons? Merlin balls" he mumbled. "I'm screwed."
Daphne sighed. "We're going to get you through this. There's no way I'm letting Malfoy win. You're going to defeat that dragon. I didn't get to scout too much, I only saw four dragons. We'll do more research and then figure out what kind of dragon you're facing."
Harry nodded, unable to form words. He still couldn't remove the image of him being burnt to crisp from his mind. His fate seemed sealed, and the amount of training they had done so far seemed insufficient. How could they even expect seventh years to escape a dragon, much less him? Gringotts used dragons as a security measure for a reason.
Daphne's voice brought him back from his thoughts. "I think we'll both need some time to… to process this. No training tonight, but starting tomorrow, three miles. You'll need it."
With that, she stood up, a neutral mask on her face, and left towards the Great Hall for breakfast.
