Daphne's mind was racing. She was thinking of a hundred things, and nothing. There was a silence between them that seemed to stretch on, but Potter was unperturbed. The wind whistled. From far away she could hear the trees in the Forbidden Forest rustling and shedding their leaves for winter. Finally she said, "thanks for saving me, Potter."
"It's Harry," he said. Daphne blinked. "My name's Harry, you know. You can call me that."
And Daphne found herself smiling in spite of herself. "Thanks for saving me, Harry. And you can call me Daphne."
"That's alright, Daphne. I didn't do very much. But what did you do to Malfoy? I've never seen him hurt anyone like that."
"Then you don't know Malfoy," she replied bitterly, but Daphne's heart skipped a beat. What had she done to Malfoy? And what had Malfoy done to her? Potter – Harry – looked at her with sympathy. "Morgana help me, I can't remember anything from that night. What happened? Did you see Malfoy attack me?"
"No, I was following him from a distance, but I heard a loud crash and then I saw you in quite a bad state." Daphne narrowed her eyes, and he understood her unasked question. "I was tailing Malfoy because I think he's up to something. With Voldemort."
"Everyone knows the Malfoys support Lord Slytherin, so it wouldn't surprise me," Daphne said carefully.
"Do you believe it? That Voldemort is the Heir of Slytherin?"
"It's not impossible. Slytherin lived a thousand years ago, so Merlin only knows how many branches and sub-branches his House had over the centuries."
"So do you support him? Or your family?"
"I want nothing to do with him." This was true, strictly speaking, yet Daphne still felt as if she had been stabbed by an icy knife.
He visibly relaxed and said, "That's a relief. I want to trust you, Daphne." The knife twisted in her gut, and chills ran through her body. Harry didn't seem to notice. Daphne forced herself to smile. "Me too, Harry."
"You wouldn't happen to know what Malfoy is up to then?"
"Not a clue. But he has been strangely quiet, so he probably is up to something. Did you see him do something that night? And you're certain it was Draco – nobody else was there?"
"Nobody. Well, Snape was close by."
"But Professor Snape would never –"
"I think so too. I don't like Snape, but I don't think he'd attack a student like that." Not one of his own, anyway. It was left unspoken.
"I see. Draco probably jumped me then. I don't think he can disarm me in a duel."
"Not from what I saw in Defence." This elicited a small smile from Daphne.
"But I really don't know why he would do that. Draco and I never liked each other, but he has never attacked me before."
"Can't help you there. Are you going to tell Snape?"
"You didn't see him attack me, right?" He shook his head. "Then there's no proof, and even if you did –"
"Snape wouldn't believe me."
"Yes. That. But there's no need to involve the professors. I won't let Draco get away with it. I'll starting by finding out what he's been planning, and I'll let you know if I find anything."
Harry had nothing more to say, so they settled into a comfortable silence. Harry rested his weight against a stone outcropping in the wall, but kept a respectful distance. Daphne leant against the embrasure and cast her gaze over the moon-bathed lake. Despite her worries, she let her mind drift. The Black Lake's surface was dark and shimmering, but could not compare to the subaqueous view from her common room, with the selkies' glowfish-husk lamps and the giant squid's pulsating mantle and a constant magical humming from the lakebed's other myriad denizens. It occurred to Daphne that Harry was probably the only Gryffindor in many years to see the bottom of the lake, during the Second Task in fourth year. She wondered if he had appreciated its allure as she did.
"Ron and Hermione would be worried if I don't get back soon." Daphne felt her heart sink.
"Scared I'd kidnapped you, Harry?"
"Hermione trusts you, you know. Ron not so much, but that didn't stop him finishing your chocolates. Thanks, by the way."
"You're welcome. And thanks for coming to meet me. I won't keep you."
"Be careful around Malfoy, Daphne."
"You too, Harry."
Harry seemed to tarry a moment longer than necessary, and Daphne briefly indulged the thought that perhaps he would rather stay. But then he turned, and she watched his lean figure descend the stairwell, and heard his steps echo farther and farther away.
Daphne lingered on the tower long after curfew. Harry had all but confirmed that Draco was at the centre of one of Lord Slytherin's schemes, and it somehow involved her being attacked paces away from her own common room, and she had not the faintest idea how everything fit together. Her family was still in danger, and Lord Slytherin had made her… suffice it to say that her troubles were many.
Yet Daphne did not dwell on these unhappy thoughts. The wind was singing, and telling her of a world where the stars were familiar yet different, where every night a Gryffindor boy with tousled hair would meet his Slytherin muse atop this very tower, away from prying eyes, and share with her the lake and the sky, and one day take her away, away from it all.
Daphne could ill afford tears. She fought them back.