Albus Dumbledore was dead.
In the days that followed this news, lessons in the castle were suspended and all examinations were postponed. A large percentage of the student body was pulled out of the castle, so much in fact that the total population seemed to have halved two days later. Out of who they knew, the Patil twins, Zacharias Smith, Lavender Brown, Nadia Khanna and Dominique Flamel were all gone; Tracey refused point-blank, which resulted in a shouting match between her and Miss Davis in the Entrance Hall.
The Hogwarts Express would be leaving for London one hour after his funeral. The Ministry hadn't been happy about it, but the staff were determined they should all have a chance to say goodbye. After that, it was required by law that all students were sent home.
Harry watched from the Hospital Wing window as a gigantic carriage the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged horses, came soaring out of the sky. He recognised it, and saw as Madame Maxime drew herself out of the carriage and flung herself into Hagrid's arms. She was the latest in a long line of visitors that the castle had received. The lack of students was not noticeable - as in fact the castle was bustling with life now more than ever. Wizards and witches had come pouring into Hogwarts, it's grounds and surrounding Hogsmede, all looking to extend their last respects to Albus Dumbledore. Even the elderly Newt Scammander, who Harry only knew from his name on Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, was a face they had seen coming and going. There was also a delegation of Ministry officials, including the Minister himself, frequently happening around the castle for statements and interviews... Harry had diligently avoided all of them; he was no rush to again recount Dumbledore's last moments.
The beautiful weather outside seemed to mock him. Now, in dress robes that didn't suit him, and hunched over a bucket in the Hospital Wing, all the summer sun did was make him sweat. The self indulgent thought proved too much, and he was again sick into the self-cleaning bucket between his legs.
He had never attended a funeral before; He did not know what to expect and was a little worried about what he might see, about how he would feel. Earlier that morning, he had never seen the Great Hall so subdued. Everybody that remained was wearing their dress robes and nobody ate anything. Professor McGonagall had left the throne-like chair in the middle of the staff table empty. Hagrid's chair had been deserted too: he'd taken Dumbledore's death the worst, and Harry had assumed perhaps he had not been able to face it Snape's place had been unceremoniously filled by the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour.
Ron and Hermione had visited him twice a day. Unrelated to their visits was Tracey, who since Daphne's disappearance, had been spending the majority of her time with his friends. The awkwardness about their drunken accident had gone unmentioned. There was a unanimous agreement between everyone that neither Dumbledore nor Daphne's name was to be mentioned.
Neville had been discharged yesterday, but Lupin, Chiara and Bill still remained, and were supposed to be transferred to St Mungos hospital after the funeral. The battle with Grayback had taken its toll on all of them and werewolf injuries were proving too much for Madam Pomfrey's care. Lupin had deep slashes across his body that gave him a resemblance to Mad-Eye, while Bill and Chiara got off a little better with just broken and cracked bones. But in personality, the trio couldn't seem happier. Though overshadowed by the news of Dumbledore's downfall, it was public knowledge what they had done that night. The Prophet had reported that Fenrir Greyback had been brought down by his own kind. Attitudes towards werewolves appeared to have changed like the flick of a switch, or at least towards this trio, as each day they found themselves giving interviews to a new group of admirers. At least there had been one slither of a silver lining in it all, he supposed.
Harry's injuries, his reason for still being admitted, were not the likes of theirs, however - he was still suffering under the effects of Daphne's Imperius curse. If he saw, or so much as heard something Death Eater-related, he had an uncontrollable urge to escape the current vancity and faced a painful ringing in his ears if he did not. Supposedly it was fading, but what it was fading into seemed arguably worse. He had been suffering the side-effects of a head splitting headache since it happened; that was what his current medication was for. He did not fight against receiving treatment for it, though he did think it unnecessary - he was just grateful for the privacy.
He wondered whether Dumbledore's death would be more real to him once it was over. Though he had moments when the horrible reality of it all threatened to overwhelm him, his life these past days were long blank stretches of numbness. Despite the fact nobody was talking about anything else, he still found it difficult to believe that it had all happened. Admittedly, he had looked desperately for some kind of loophole, it was all a dream, or they could use a time-turner, something, anyway that they could reverse the damage… but there was nothing. Daphne was gone and Dumbledore was dead.
In the back of his pocket, he felt the chain of the fake Horcrux pressing against him. He carried it with him everywhere, not as a talisman, but as a reminder of what it had cost. Of how worthless the sacrifice had been.
Because it was not the real Horcrux.
He did not need to open it and read the letter by R.A.B to discover that - he had known it the second he's laid eyes on the thing. Because he knew exactly where the real Horcrux was, which meant everything that happened a few nights ago, happened for no reason.
His thoughts straying to the topic, his empty stomach churned again.
They still had no idea where Daphne was.
He wrought no animosity for her actions. The same result would still likely have arisen regardless. And he would probably have done something similar in her position. Although, he acknowledged that was also probably him trying to justify not feeling anger towards her. He did not believe she was responsible for killing Dumbledore, even indirectly. He did despise her use of the Dark Arts, but that only meant a tiny bit of pity mingled with his frustration. Where, he wondered, for the twelfth time today, was she now? On the run? Imprisoned by Voldemort, perhaps? Or was she already… already…
Another twist of the stomach and he was again sick into his bucket..
Harry imagined what it would be like now if they had just not gone that night. If he had somehow seen a picture of the Horcrux before they set off for it. Dumbledore would not have died and Daphne would not been taken from them. They would be a Horcrux down, and with their relationship was good as public again, there really would have been nothing stopping them spending this last term properly together.
Harry's solitude was interrupted. Tracey pulled back the curtains of his bed; overconfident though she still was, she looked lonely.
"Heard you upchuckin'. You alright?"
He smiled wearily at her.
"Perfect," he croaked, the taste of stomach acid pungent in his mouth.
She nodded.
"Well… it's time. McGonagall's waitin' for us."
The funeral was held by the lake. It was the most beautiful summer's day imaginable - Dumbledore would have been thrilled with it, but the warmth of the sun on Harry's face just made his headache worsen.
A wizard in plain black robes had gotten to his feet and started talking, but Harry could not hear him. The odd word from the obituary floated back to him, but his attention was now on Hagrid, who was walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. His face gleamed with tears and in his arms, wrapped entirely in white, was what Harry knew to be Dumbledore's body. A sharp pain rose in his throat at this sight: for a moment, he thought he was going to be sick again. The strange daze he was in, combined with Dumbledore's body being so close, seemed to suck all warmth from the day. Hagrid placed the body carefully upon the marble slab that had been lay at the front. When he retreated down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises, Harry tried to make a friendly gesture to him as he passed, but his eyes were so swollen it was a wonder he could see where he was going.
Beside him, Ron looked shocked and tears were falling fast into Hermione's lap. The little man in black had stopped speaking and resumed his seat. Harry waited for
somebody else to get to their feet; he expected to hear speeches, probably from the Minister, but nobody moved. He could see Scrimgeour looking grave and dignified in the front row with Umbridge. He wondered how many of them here today were actually even sorry Dumbledore was dead.
Hermione nudged him again and he looked round. Bright, white flames were slowly rising around Dumbledore's body from the table it lay on. White smoke rose into the air and made strange shapes: Harry thought, for one moment, he saw the shape of a bird take form. And then not a moment after, somewhere out in the ground, a phoenix song began. Fawkes had started to sing in a way Harry had never heard before. An emotional, grief-stricken lament, the likes of which he did not think an animal to be capable of expressing. It was as if his own grief was turned magically to song, which echoed across the grounds and through the castle.
How long they all sat there, listening, he did not know. Nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little; to hear a representation of their mourning. He wished, more than ever, he had Daphne by his side. It felt like a long time later that the fire eventually died and the funeral was over. Harry looked around him properly for the first time.
An extraordinary assortment of people had settled into the chairs: shabby and smart, old and young. Most he did not recognise, but there were a few that he did, including members of the Order of the Phoenix: Kingsley, Haywood, Mad-Eye, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Karasu and Lee. Then there was Lupin, Chiara and Bill, who were all being helped out of their seats by their friends and spouses; Lupin by Sirius and Tonks, Chiara by Emcee and Bill by Charlie and Fluer together. Fred and George were behind them and wearing, even Harry could admit, fetching jackets of black dragonskin. Ex-Minister Fudge walked past them away from the front rows, his expression miserable. Then, with a jolt of his headache, he next recognised Rita Skeeter, who was scratching away in her notebook. After that, through the vastness of the crowd he was only able to make out a few more faces; Madame Maxime, who took up two-and-a-half chairs on her own, Tom and Mrs Abbot from the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella Figg, Harry's Squib neighbour, the bass player from the Weird Sisters, Ernie Prang, driver of the Knight Bus, Madam Malkin of the robe shop in Diagon Alley, and some he merely knew by sight, like the Hogs Head barman that had once served him and Daphne and the trolly lady from the Hogwarts Express. The castle ghosts were there too, though barely visible in the bright sunlight.
People were starting to whisper to each other now, but the phoenix song was louder by far. The crowd was starting to disperse. And then, without warning, it swept suddenly over him, the dreadful truth, more complete and undeniably than it had been until now. Dumbledore was dead and gone. He clutched the locket in his hand so tightly that it hurt, and couldn't prevent tears spilling onto his face.
He looked away from his friends and stared out over the lake, towards the forest, and saw movement among the trees. The centaurs had come to pay their respects, too. They did not move, but he could see them. Standing still, half-hidden in shadow, watching the wizards, their heads bowed. He remembered his first nightmarish trip into the forest, the first time he had ever encountered Voldemort, how he had faced him, and how at the end of that year he and Dumbledore had discussed why fighting a losing battle was important. It was important, he said, to fight, fight again and keep fighting, for evil could only ever be kept at bay, never fully eradicated…
And then, under the hot son, Harry saw very clearly the other people who had cared for him. They had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his girlfriend, and finally Dumbledore, all determined to protect him. Now that was over. There was nobody left to shield him. He would not let anybody shield him. Nobody else was going to stand between him and Voldemort. He needed to abandon the illusion he ought to have lost as a child: that the shelter of friends meant nothing could hurt him. He was an idiot for spending this whole year fooling around with Daphne. The was a war to be fought. There was going to be no waking from this nightmare, no comforting whisper that he was safe or this was all just play-pretend; the last and greatest of his protectors had died and now he was more alone than ever.
At last he settled onto the three people sat beside him. Ron's face was screwed up as though the sun was blinding him, but he knew that was just him scared of letting loose. Hermione's face was glazed with tears, but Tracey was not crying. She met Harry's gaze with the same fiery look that he had seen on the Quidditch pitch. He knew at that moment they understood each other perfectly, and so he steeled himself to talk about what they had been avoiding for days.
"She'll be okay…" he said very quietly.
The buzz of conversation grew louder around them as more people began to get to their feet.
"We're going to find her. You don't need to worry."
She laughed. She looked away from him and out over the lake, with an oddly twisted smile.
"I'm not worried. She's a dumbass... but she's a survivor. Through and through. I've faith in her."
Harry could not bear to ponder the alternative, nor did he think his resolution would hold if he remained sitting beside her. Ron was now holding Hermione, stroking her hair while tears dripped from the end of his nose. With a miserable gesture, he got up, turned his back on them, and on Dumbledore's tomb, and walked away around the lake.
Moving felt much more bearable than sitting still.
He took a deep breath, then decided immediately that not to do that again. The air was crisp and the freshest he'd ever taste. There was a sense of... wrongness, lingering in it. Everything was too nice. Too perfect, too good to be true. It felt haunted somehow, as ridiculous as that might sound, considering the ghosts stood not twenty foot away from him.
He realized that there was nothing he could tell himself that made sense. Everything was happening so fast, there was so much wrong with this situation that he didn't know where to start. How had they ended up here? What happened to a week ago? Why had destiny been so cruel in catching him up? He closed his eyes, sickened. He couldn't even look anywhere to distract himself. Everything reminded him of Dumbledore and Daphne - how would they have enjoyed today, had they both been here?
He rejected the thought violently. Dwelling on it was a mistake.
He looked behind him. Everyone had moved from their seats now - though many remained in the vicinity. He moved quickly, so as to not be stopped and spoken to. He refound his friends in a group surrounding the werewolf trio. They all beamed happily to see him - which made his headache worsen.
"You guys were fantastic," he said groggily.
Lupin gave an artificial smile that was more like a grimace. He swallowed.
"It was an... idiotic thing, we did. Letting loose like that, all of us at once… and at a school no less! It's nothing short of a miracle things don't go disastrously. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for endangering children like that."
Bill parted him hard on the back, making them both recoil a little in pain.
"We had our potions... We were in control," he said with an air on finality. "And absolutely fine while Grayback was there - so long as I could smell him, you could put a hundred unarmed muggles between us and I wouldn't so much as stop to sniff them."
Chiara, the pretty vise-head of the Beast Division's Werewolf Capture Unit at the Ministry, of whom Harry had only met once before, nodded in agreement.
"It happened best it could, Remus. Don't dwell on false futures. And it's not as though we're going to be doing it again. Circumstances called for it, is all."
"And it seems the tide is finally changing on public opinion of werewolves!"
He shook his head scornfully.
"Grayback still got away."
Harry gave an empty smile.
"One battle at a time though, ay?"
He wasn't quite sure what made him say it, but Lupin looked grateful he had.
"Come on, you lot!"
Unanimously, they rolled their eyes. The trio smiled at them for another moment, then turned and limped away. He could see Kinglsey, Mad-Eye and the rest of the Aurors waiting for them, all casting nervous glances about. Sirius swayed on the spot, apparently torn between rejoining his friends or remaining with his godson. Harry considered him for a long moment, then turned to his friends. Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment.
"Was… was a lovely service, weren't it?"
His good will did nothing to cheer either of them up.
"I can't bear the idea that we might never come back," Hermione said softly. "How can Hogwarts close?"
Ron shook his head.
"It still won't matter, even if it does," he said. "Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, actually. What d'you reckon, Harry?"
Harry pushed out a long breath, one that'd been building, and wrinkled his nose a little at the taste of vomit returning to him.
"I'm not coming back, even if it does reopen."
They both looked at him, but it was Sirius who answered.
"With Dumbledore gone... it will not be long until the Ministry goes the same way. You three are about to become ground zero. It'll be unsafe to return in the new year. Going into hiding, at least until we have an idea of how bad the damage will be, is the best way to go. Grimmauld Place is protected by old magic, you'll be safe there."
Harry nodded, but did not look at him.
"I'm going to find Daphne. Then we'll go into hiding."
Ron gaped at him, but Hermione spoke softly to him.
"Harry…"
He stopped her.
"Look, I know what you guys are thinking. I've seen you talking about it. And I know you're not bringing it up until after the funeral... but she is alive. I know she is. She knows what she's doing around the Death Eaters. She's a survivor, and she has her own lot looking out for her."
There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed now, the stragglers giving the monumental figure of Grawp a wide berth as he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls of grief were echoing across the water.
"Well, we'll find out together, won't we?" Ron asked cheerfully.
"What?"
"Finding Daphne. Then going to your aunt and uncle's house," he carried on. "Then to Grimmauld Place, then after the Horcruxes, or whatever comes next. We'll go with you."
"No, you two aren't - "
But it Sirius interrupted him this time. He turned to Harry, hardness on his face, and brought his hands down on his shoulders.
"Harry… I will never be able to apologise to you as much as you both deserve. It was on my word that Daphne stepped forward, on my word that she betrayed the Death Eaters, and on my word that I said we'd protect her... That's on my head. I accept full responsibility, but the only thing that I can do to make it up for it is fix this. We'll find where they have taken her and we're going to get her back."
He didn't know how to respond to that. The fact that the Order failed to protect her, after explicitly stating they could, hadn't gone unnoticed by him. But he'd had been too preoccupied grieving to feel anger towards them for that - so facing it head on now caused a stirring of emotions in him.
Sirius continued.
"Me and Remus spoke it through. We figured James wouldn't want his son doing this alone. You three have this mission that Dumbledore set for you, and that's fine, but it doesn't mean you can't have help. It doesn't have to be just the three of you - you have the entire Order on your side."
He found his resolve and shook his head.
"I've had enough people die for me, thanks."
"And a lot more will die if we continue to blunder blindly forward without a game plan. We need organisation and leadership. With Dumbledore gone, we are to need numbers on our side. We need to stick together."
"I'm not having any one else line up to die protecting me."
Sirius looked annoyed but, as before, hastily modified his expression to one of sorrowful understanding.
"Harry! If you die, thousands - perhaps millions - will follow! You are the chosen one, yes, but you do not have to do it alone. Wouldn't you much rather ten people die, but by doing so, allow the saviour of millions to live?"
"No life should die in place of mine!"
Sirius shook his head. Ron and Hermione looked like they wanted to join in, but a warning glance told them to stay silent.
"You give people hope, Harry," Sirius said with an air of finality. "And that is worth dying for."
"You said to us once before," Hermione joined in quietly, "that there was always time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we? We've been through all this as well, we have the drive to take You-Know-Who down as much as you do."
"You're not going to beat us on this, you know," Ron nodded.
Harry glared at them for their betrayal, but Sirius took the cue to continue.
"We've got a twenty-plus list of people already wanting to help. The Weasleys, Fluer's family, all of the Order, heck, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley, Moira, Chiara, Snyde, even Longbottoms grandmother has offered! They want to fight. And if they die, they want to die knowing they are doing the right thing! People are going to die, Harry. The only thing that we can affect is how little that number has to be. Please understand what I'm telling you."
He had not counted on this. He had meant to undertake this dangerous journey alone. He had been relying on them to understand this, as he really didn't have the strength in him to argue his defence.
"We're with you whatever happens," Ron agreed. "... just so long as we find her before Bill and Fluer's wedding. Mum will go sick if we miss that."
He looked at him, startled; the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful.
"Oh yeah, we shouldn't miss that," he said finally.
He and Ron laughed. Even Hermione grinned a little, though her smile faded as she looked up at the castle. Sirius remained in silent contemplation.
In spite of everything -in spite of the dark, twisting path he saw stretching ahead in spite of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, a year, or in ten - he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one day of peace left to enjoy with Ron, Hermione and Sirius.
Then, he thought again of who ought to be rightfully sharing it with them. As he stood there, he became aware suddenly that the grounds were silent. Fawkes had stopped singing. And he knew, without knowing how he knew it, that the phoenix had left Hogwarts for good. Just as Dumbledore had left the world… and how Daphne had left them…
His stomach twisted painfully. Now Dumbledore's funeral was shrinking in his mind, the ever-more daunting task began occurring to him. His hand switched to his back pocket and closed automatically around the fake Horcrux.
"Sirius, I need you to see something."
Wordlessly, he pulled the locket from his pocket, opened it, and passed it to him. Sirius frowned and read the note before him, before his face broke out into realization.
"R.A.B…" he said with empty lungs, "... that stupid bastard."
"R.A.B?" Ron asked.
"It's Regulus Black," Hermione answered for him. "Sirius' younger brother."
Truth be told, Harry had felt no curiosity about R.A.B. The name was just another problem caused for them.
"Older brother, actually. Painted wrong way round on the portrait, see... often confuses folk…" Sirius let out a long, sour-sounding hiss, and swayed unsteadily on the spot. "I never knew. I hated him for years! Years, wasted! So… Dumbledore died for a locket that was in my bloody house the whole time?"
Hermione rounded on them.
"What!?" she squeaked.
"Aw, yeah!"
He handed the locket to her.
"Part of the décor on the mantelpiece. I'd know - walked past the bloody thing every day! Shunned it off as some worthless family heirloom... If I'd have known… if Dumbledore had trusted us enough to just tell us…"
The mention of a Horcrux seemed to have acted like a stimulant on Hermione, as she was suddenly enthusiastic and full of energy.
"But this is good then, right!? That means we do still have a Horcrux?" she asked eagerly.
"No," Harry cut Sirius off.
All eyes turned on him. With a breath, he prepared the words he knew he ought have said to them days ago.
"Christmas, Sirius. You were chucking stuff away and said I could have anything. The locket isn't in Grimmauld place, because I gave it to Daphne for Christmas. She's had it the whole time."
The words washed over the group like cold water, extinguishing any hope that might have been given life.
"And she's gone missing," Sirius cursed, "... Bloody wonderful."
But Hermione was determined not to let it go as easily.
"Harry, would she recognise what it is at all? Does she know what she has?"
He shook his head.
"I never got to tell her about the Horcruxes. She figured out it belonged to Slytherin - but I don't think even she could deduce what it is unprompted. If we can contact her, just one message would be all I'd need. She might even know a way to destroy it."
He did not feel the way he had so often felt before, burning to get to the bottom of a mystery; he simply felt ashamed in himself for not solving this one already. His girlfriend, the love of his life, was out there, probably still in danger, what was he doing at a funeral? Why was he not out there right now, battling Death Eaters and trying to find her?
There might as well still be as many as four Horcruxes out there, and each would need to be found and eliminated before there was even a possibility that Voldemort could be killed. There was a dark and winding path stretching ahead of him; the path that he and Daphne had planned to set out on together, that he would now have to journey alone.
"If we're starting an army, then Daphne will want to fight too. She'll be a valuable asset. She knows more about the Dark Arts and Death Eaters than anyone on our side does."
Dark fragments of memories span into focus, only for the smallest, briefest glimpse before falling away again. She was a child in the countryside with her father, the taste of wet earth in the air. She was in trouble for being a thief, stealing something from the pocket of her uncle. The memories turned dark. Her aunt and uncle, the first she had lost to the Dark Lord; You-Know-Who, the death of happiness. Feelings of loneliness. The day her father joined the ranks of his followers, teaching her about blood purity, conspiracy and corruption. Then she was a student, training in Hogwarts, and ready to apply her new knowledge to her studies. She met friends, some she had betrayed, some who betrayed her. Then finally, she was in love, and the darkness was gone. But next came the sweeping sadness, next came the death of Albus Dumbledore...
Several times she woke, half awake, swallowed some nearby water and slept again, recalling the memories each time. The battle in the corridors, the faces of the people she'd tried so foolishly to save. All of them, probably dead now. And reigning over it all like the demonic epitome of evil, The Dark Lord, his terrible voice calling for her to join him, his terrible eyes seeking her wherever she went, whatever she did.
The gentle sound of rain lapped at the edges of her awareness. She always liked the rain. She yearned to see it and feel its coolness on her skin. But it was a long way away, and it was a tiring struggle to leave behind this dark isolation. Her body didn't want it, she wanted to stay here. It protested louder the closer she got to it, but determined, she won out. After deciding that she was in fact alive, Daphne opened her eyes.
Weak, thirsty, hungry and in pain from her broken hand and about a million other aches, but definitely alive. Disoriented and confused, she sat up slowly and looked around, only to receive a jolt of pain throughout her body. Her mark hadn't stopped hurting since it happened - it had been a distant feeling for the most part, until now. That movement had been the most deliberate she'd made in at least twelve hours. She had gotten used to the pain so much, it didn't much feel like pain, until she tried testing it. Then it resumed its vicious quest to tear itself from her skin, as though it had sensed her treachery and was doing all in it's power to make her suffer for it.
Something must have happened to stir her. Something more than the rain, but not predominant enough for her to retain memory of. There was arguing going on above her again, could that have been it? She could just about make out the voices over the trickle of the rain - some she thought she recognised.
She sat there for a moment, slightly overwhelmed by the mix of emotions hitting her - shock, amazement, a reluctance to believe she was still alive. Her stomach stung. They hadn't fed her since locking her in the dungeon. Probably, they hadn't expected her to be with her this long. Considering all that had happened, she was surprised at how well-off she was. Except for her right hand, which was swollen and purple, she had no serious injuries, and after drinking more water, felt the most awake she had in days. Her happiness at being alive was tempered by guilt, that she was still around when so many others had died already.
She was snapped from her trance by the noises above her. Somebody was moving now. The rattle of the rain drowned out the thumping of her heart as the noises moved closer and opened the door to the dungeon, and someone stepped into her darkness.
She was no longer alone down here. Immediately, she went to raise her wand, all her senses telling her to run, but then remembered her only hope was still on the floor of a classroom somewhere. She reached back and started slapping the cobblestone for anything to use as a weapon. Through the darkness there was a powerful smell, musty and organic, and the hard sound of footsteps coming toward her.
A single torch lamp flickered on in the middle of the dungeon, and she thought a second she was still having her nightmare.
Grayback was coming for her, now in human form, but covered in deep and ugly gashes, still bleeding. He walked into the chamber, as stiff and impossible as when she'd first seen him, nearly a year ago, the eerie orange light turning him into even more of a nightmare. On the floor, she couldn't tell how tall he was, but he seemed just as big and intimidating in human form as he did as a wolf. And he was about to reach her, if she didn't snap out of her stunned horror.
"S-stay away from me," she said feebly, and impossibly quiet.
Her mind raced for an answer, for a solution that would end the hate-filled life of the monster before her. If she only had her wand, she could aim an exploding curse at the ceiling above him, crush him where he stood… but she didn't have it. Instead she aimed a loose stone - the only defense she had left - at him and threw it. It hit him and he carried forward, undeterred. A mocking laugh came from the same direction, and Daphne moved her aching head a little to see Bellatrix skipping cheerfully behind him.
She had survived by the skin of her teeth, but it hadn't ended up mattering. All she had done in running from Grayback was piss him off. Her luck had ran out.
But he didn't kill her. Nor did he bite her. After making sure she was tightly secured in his paw-like hands, he dragged her to her feet.
"You-Know-Who wants to have a word with ye."
As her stomach distended, Bellatrix laughed again.
Her hand screamed in pain and protested, but she didn't notice. Her wide-eyed gaze was fixed on the new creature before her. It was hideous, more than she remembered. She didn't feel fear as she saw it this time, but pity for its continued existence.
"You have betrayed me again, young one," it said.
In the shrinking time she knew she had, she tried to arrange her expression carefully, to show a bewildered fear, like she was confused, but she knew he saw right through it.
She'd been caught, she knew concealing the truth now would only do to extend her suffering.
"My Lord, I tried my best - "
"Silence!"
The words fell from her mouth, and even the rain seemed to have abandoned her now.
"Did you really think you had fooled the great Lord Voldemort? Did you honestly believe… that I did not see you for exactly what you were? You were never trusted, your role was that of bait, my dear. Nothing more and nothing less. But it seems, you couldn't even do that without causing problems for me..."
Daphne didn't think, just spoke.
"I did what you… w-what you told me to…"
Even without finishing her sentence, she could see his anger swelling up like a red tide. An acid heat flashed through her veins and she felt sick. Even before he said it, she knew what was coming next.
"Grayback, my friend. A deal is a deal and I am a man of my word. Take the child as your own and do with her whatever you wish."
With a growl that she was sure would be the last thing she ever heard, a heavy pressure came down on her shoulder.
She staggered, not understanding - she was in control, she was the Ice Queen, how had things gone so horribly, horribly wrong? Her life had been selfish. About ego and greed. Good people had died in the world and for some reason, she had never much cared. She told herself that kind of effort was a waste of time and a sign of weakness. Was she about to go the same way? Dying a good person, but only to be forgotten? What was the point in such a waste?
Grayback wrapped his hand around her shoulder, squeezing so tight she might have heard the bone being crushed. His other hand came down, securing around her waist, and she realized too late the floor beneath her had gone and she was being lifted through the air. And it broke her.
The scream that had been progressively building up since that night finally broke from her throat and filled the room as she fought against the inevitable.
"NO! NO! STOP! PLEASE, PLEASE - JUST STOP, I CAN - I CAN CHANGE, I'LL DO ANYTHING!"
She was panicking, lashing out like a trapped animal, doing and saying anything to aid her escape. Grayback licked his lips, his hungry gaze travelling over her limber, smooth form.
"PLEASE! PLEASE! DON'T!"
A clatter of metal as a door swung open and a silhouette passed her
"WHATEVER YOU'RE GOING TO DO TO DAPHNE, DO TO ME!"
It was a man's voice, a man's shape, and a shadowy figure stopped in front of the Dark Lord.
"Please, I'll do anything! Just let her walk free!"
She twisted to see her saviour, kicking against Graybacks chest, a beating pulse of stinging pain coming from her broken hand.
"Release her, Grayback."
She hit the cold marble floor and leapt to her feet. She staggered away, nothing new broken, but as she stumbled, Grayback turned his immense body in her direction, ready to snap her up again at a moment's notice.
"Daddy - !"
It was as if an invisible hand had slapped over her mouth - she turned to see Severus Snape entering the room, putting his wand away.
"I beg your pardon, Benedict?"
Her father had dropped to his knees in front of The Dark Lord. She wanted to see his face, to look into his eyes, but Snape had reached her and blocked any attempt at fighting.
"Daphne is a good girl... my lord."
He had been crying. She recognised it in his voice - it had been his shouting which had woken her earlier.
"She never wanted any of this, I was the one that got her involved, and that's on me. She's not one of us - she's not a killer - she never was! She doesn't deserve any of this, please… Blame me for her failure, not her."
There were more Death Eaters around them than she realized, blocking all exits. Grayback, Bellatrix and the Carrows all stirred. There wasn't an eye in the room not nervously pressed on the Dark Lord.
"You put me in a difficult position, Benedict. You stepped up when Lucius fell and have become one of my most loyal servants… and a close friend. I do not show mercy often, but alas, I shall grant you this."
Benedict gave a wretched sob of thanks, which was cut off abruptly.
"But in exchange for the girl's innocence… I must ask from you the ultimate price. That which can never be resorted. Do you deem this an acceptable exchange?"
Daphne felt the room wobble violently around her.
"Y-yes, my lord."
Weak, legs distant and rubbery, mouth not working, and heart pounding - she could not let it happen this way. She understood the need for the silencing charm. As she fought and clawed against Snape's restraints, she knew one way or another she couldn't let this happen.
"That… is a shame. But, very well. Seize him."
The Carrows flanked him and he was on his feet, wrestled into a submission position so he couldn't defend himself.
"Are there any parting words you would like to leave your daughter on, my friend?"
She locked eyes with him. His eyes sparkling with tears. She started to shake, to fight harder, tension running through her chest, tightening it, making it hard to breathe.
"Daphne, baby, I'm so sorry - sorry for all of this - you'll never know how much. Please… don't hate me."
He looked nervously between her and The Dark Lord, who bowed for him to continue. Looking like he hadn't been expecting such a mercy, his stumbled through his words.
"I loved your mother with all my heart, and I still do. I hate myself for not trying harder to give us all a life together, she was the best thing that ever happened to me, and the best thing I ever did was bringing you and Astoria into this world. I'd give anything... anything... to start again, and give you both the life you deserved. I'm sorry that I was never the father I should have been. The father you both deserved."
Her thoughts had kicked into overdrive, spinning through her limited options in a flash. In that moment of connection, of clarification, she wanted to tell him so much. Tell him he was a good man, who had just fallen down the wrong path. Tell him she loved him, and that he'd never deserved any of what happened to him. She wanted to tell him that through it all, she still loved him. She loved him so much.
"Such a shame, truly…" The Dark Lord's icy voice cut through the scene.
"The man on his knees before you has achieved everything that he ever set out for... and yet, so close to victory - with Dumbledore dead and the world on our horizon - he has yielded!" he exclaimed. "He has chosen to trade his life for a coward, because what? She's his blood? The Death Eaters do not have such weakness... That is what sympathy and love does to men... Turns them weak. Pitiful. Let his fall from grace be a lesson to you all. The man on his knees before you, brothers and sisters, is weakness incarnate. And that is how he shall be remembered. Benedict Greengrass, the coward. Runs in the family, clearly."
He pulled out his wand.
"Make your peace and prepare... to die."
She screamed silently, as her father spared her one final glance, then switched to the face above hers.
"Look after my baby girl, Severus Snape."
Then, with a heartache of hope, the Dark Lord lowered his wand.
"Actually, I don't think so…"
But whatever small glimmer she had felt in that second was crushed pathetically.
"Grayback, who am I to rob you of a meal? You may feed. But, Bellatrix… Make sure she watches."
This tale is done.
But, Daphne's story continues in The Ice Queen Lives, the next and final instalment of the Life Trilogy.
Follow for the notification of when that is published.
A/N Thank you for all following this long and I sincerely hope you enjoyed this piece. I made conscious steps to try and improve my writing from the last one. I know people especially had problems with the last ending - that was sheer miscommunication on my part and I can only apologise. In case there's any confusion now, I shall state all:
Sirius is still alive and able to join the Horcrux hunt - which will now be a much larger group effort than just the trio camping in the woods for a year. Tracey is starting to show her true colours a bit as she drunkenly tried to snog Harry, which currently nobody knows about but them. Benedict got a last-minute pseudo-redemption by sacrificing himself to prevent Daphne becoming a werewolf. And with her father murdered by The Dark Lord, in front of her eyes no less, Daffy is going to be on a serious warpath in the future.
At risk of turning things serious - working on both this story and my Youtube series has been a real emotional crutch recently, as the pandemic has caused me to lose both my job and a large handful of family members. Because of all this, me and my partner are having to rush getting an apartment of our own about a year earlier than we planned. So, while I'm happy to say Daphne's story will continue, please do take that with a grain of salt, as it'll be on the back burner for a while until I have stuff sorted. I already have rough drafts floating around that I'll be able to toy with in my spare time, so hopefully as soon as I'm settled into the new place I can dive right in with it. Put blunty - don't expect anything more from the Life Trilogy for the rest of 2020,. Anyone who doesn't want to wait that long though, I highly recommend giving Living Dangerously a re-read (if you haven't already), as I did a lot of retcons/rewrites to it earlier this year and it's a much better piece for it. I may also give some shorter fics a crack in the meantime; I still have to finish Phantom, I definitely want to do something more with the Hogwarts Mystery characters AND I've been toying with the idea of an M-rated Harry/Daphne/Tracey fic. None of those are promises, though.
If you guys want to keep up to date with me, I urge you to check out my Youtube channel "Hadley". I have a video published about Daphne Greengrass titled "The Most Popular Harry Potter Character You've Never Heard Of" and it's by far my most popular one (even though it's the worst made on there). I'm actually going to try leaning more into content like that in coming months, I have one specific vid planned that's me reading and reacting to cursed HP ships, can't wait to film that! If you're interested, remember views, likes and comments are a completely free way to support indie creators!
Would love to hear back from you all, on both this story and in general. ShadowPillow, 98 and MilesMorales18, you have been some of my most loyal reviewers, so thank you! But moreso, thank every one of you all for everything.
CGPH
