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A/N: Thank you to everyone for all the comments! I hope y'all enjoy this one! Cheers!

Chapter 42: Proof of Progress

-Harry-

As I was walking along the corridors upon my return to Hogwarts, I could only think about one thing.

I was a magnet, and the whispers were metal.

The world seemed to stop for people when I walked past them. I was used to it, but it was different this time.

People weren't afraid or mocking or gleeful or respectful. They were desperate.

I was the chosen one.

I was the chosen one.

It wasn't just a myth in the Daily Prophet. No, it was true. As true as the earth was spherical.

The wooden bench felt hard and unwelcoming when I sat down for the feast. A feast to celebrate what?

The beginning of the term or the beginning of the war?

Was either worthy to celebrate?

I wanted to scream in frustration. How had things gone so wrong?

"Welcome back, everyone," the esteemed headmaster said warmly.

The hall was silent as an abandoned house, it felt like it was only filled with ghosts now.

I tuned the speech out, whatever he said, it had been said already. So when the feast ended and everyone stood up to leave, I felt nothing but relief.

Ron and Hermione joined up with the other Gryffindor prefects to guide the students back to the common room.

Therefore, neither of them noticed when I slipped away from the staircases when we reached the fourth floor.

The silver door was there. Right where it always had been. Part of me had expected it not to be. Why? I couldn't tell.

I entered the room and was greeted by the purple light. I felt my shoulders relax and closed my eyes for a moment. This was home, as close as I would ever get.

I couldn't contain my smile when I found my master sitting in her armchair, her hands folded neatly in her lap. It must have been the first time I smiled in . . . ever since the ministry.

"Why are you smiling like a fool?"

I fell down into my armchair. "Nothing, just nostalgic."

Rowena pursed her lips. "Don't be, we have much work to do."

"I know," I said.

"Good, because I think it is time we destroy the horcrux."

I nodded in understanding. "Why now?" I wondered aloud. "We've had it for more than a year. . ."

Rowena looked inside the purple fire. "I think I have gathered all the knowledge necessary from it, there is nothing more to do with it."

I stared at the woman. "What? You know everything about Voldemort?"

She frowned. "No, not everything, but I know what I want to know."

"Right… So what was it that you wanted to know, that you now know?"

"We need to kill Nagini to kill him," Rowena said simply. "She is one of his horcruxes."

"One of them? How many more are there?" I frowned, if he has many, that would prove difficult.

"There is the part which was within you, the Diary, Nagini and. . . two more things."

I gestured for her to continue. "What are the other two things?"

"Both are here in the castle, I think." Rowena stared into the fire with a puzzled look. "One of them, I just know that it is here, in the castle, the other is. . . with your headmaster, I think." Rowena stroked her chin pensively.

"Why would Dumbledore have it?"

Rowena grimaced. "He didn't get that blackened hand for no reason, it is from the curse placed in the ring, I'm certain."

"The horcrux is a ring?"

Rowena nodded. "Yes, the other horcrux is-" The founder cut off suddenly, her posture was tense and she was glaring at the fire, as if it had hurt her somehow.

"Master, are you alright?"

Rowena jerked awake. She was staring at me with wide eyes. The founder stood up suddenly, and started to pace the room. "Don't ask me that," she snapped. She let out a deep breath and calmed down. "I need you to speak with someone," my master declared with a forced smile.

I raised my eyebrows. "Who?"

"The ghost of my house."

I frowned. "The Grey Lady?"

Rowena tensed again and nodded mechanically. "Yes," she whispered. "The Grey Lady." She said the name slowly and tenderly.

"What do I need to know from her?"

Rowena but her lip. "Ask her where-" My master cut herself off again.

I frowned. "It's alright, master," I said. "Whatever it is, I'll do it."

Rowena's purple orbs bore into mine like huge drills. "I know," she said coldly. Then she let out a sharp breath. "Ask her where my diadem is," the founder said quickly, as if she was scared of letting the phrase out.

"Where your diadem is?" I said incredulously. There was a long pause. "Why would she have your diadem? And why have you never told me that you have a diadem?"

Rowena smiled darkly. "Oh no, she doesn't have it, she just knows where it is." The founder shrugged. "And I've never told you because. . . it's just a cosmetic item." My master raised her eyebrows with a mocking smile. "Do you want me to tell you about every piece of jewellery I've owned in my life?"

"It sounds like a fascinating subject," I said. "But perhaps we can wait until after we have removed the horcruxes from the castle."

Rowena nodded. "I agree." She clapped her hands together. "So you have two missions: find out where the diadem is, then come and talk to me. Do not get it by yourself."

"I understand."

"Good, the second mission: confirm that Dumbledore has destroyed the horcrux inside the ring."

I nodded. "Affirmative, I can do that."

Rowena let out a long breath. I frowned, the woman in front of me –who I often perceived as indestructible– almost seemed. . . tired. Her head almost hung and I thought I saw a couple of wrinkles in her usually smooth face.

I had met her almost two years ago. She still looked about twenty, almost exactly the same as she had then.

Could a horcrux age?

Rowena cleared her throat. "You fancy a duel?"

My green eyes snapped up to hers. "It's eleven!" I exclaimed. "Are you sure you want to do that now?"

The founder smiled weakly. "Just something to get our minds off everything else going on."

I opened my mouth.

"It'll be fun," my teacher pressed and gestured for me to follow her inside the room. "And I'll get to see how good you really are, after all of the practice you've had without me."

I chuckled and followed in her wake. "Or I get to see how good you are." I smiled. "Perhaps the student has exceeded the master."

Rowena shook her head with a small smile. "You may be an adequate duelist, Harry, but you are still just that: adequate."

"And what are you?" I asked, bringing my wand into my hand. "Above adequate?"

Rowena stretched and applied a spell to bind her hair into a bun. "Something like that, even I can improve."

I gasped in mock surprise. "The great Rowena Ravenclaw isn't perfect? The world must be going under."

Rowena smiled but shook her head. "You'll regret saying that."

I got into position -wand pointed at her- just like she had taught me all those months ago. "Make me regret it."

Rowena laughed loudly, it was a pretty sound, if not entirely unexpected. "I think it is time you are dragged back down to earth."

She sent a vicious, violent, violet blast for my head. One I neatly dodged, a huge grin on my face.

I fell into a comfortable rhythm. No, we fell into a comfortable rhythm. I don't know how long we didn't say a word to each other. The only sounds being crackles of spells and the gongings of shields.

We danced together.

She was a better dancer than anyone I had seen.

I jumped and dodged and twisted and turned and felt like a cripple doing so, next to my master. I wondered if she had ever done gymnastics, she bent and moved like no one else. It was marvellous to look at; it was the art of duelling in its purest form.

If only Alice could have seen this.

My master made everything look effortless. My most complicated spells were disarmed like toddlers and the most simple spells left me on the back foot.

Throughout the entire time, Rowena had a small smile on her lips. My breaths grew steadily heavier, I could feel the sweat pouring down over my face. The robes clung to my body like sticking charms.

Not for the first time this evening, I was struck with a spell. I flew backwards a couple of metres before I could dampen the impact.

"I think that's enough for today," my master said and approached me.

Her purple eyes looked brighter than before. They were sparkling in a way I had never seen, ever. A warm smile was tugging at her lips.

I bent down and panted heavily. "I. . . I think so too," I panted heavily, closing my eyes in exhaustion.

Rowena patted me on the shoulder. "You did well, Harry. You should be proud of what you've accomplished so far."

I looked at the hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, master."

Rowena nodded and slipped out of the room. I looked after her.

This was something I dearly hoped we did again. Throughout the entire shower and the entire time falling asleep, I couldn't wipe that huge grin on my face. It felt like something had changed, I had changed.

Somehow, I realised during that duel that I had become so much better.

I could still remember the days when my master didn't have to move an inch to defeat me, which she managed to do with one spell.

Or less.

The duel this evening was the receipt of everything I had fought for for almost two years.

-()-

-Draco-

I waited patiently in my dorm. Listening for every other breath to fall into slow, rhythmic patterns.

Vincent and Gregory fell asleep almost immediately, Theo went soon after. Blaise was the real problem, not only would he question me about where I went, he was also notoriously easy to wake up. I am pretty sure that Theo still regrets waking him up in third year, I don't think Blaise ever forgave him for that.

Anyway, I slipped out from under my duvet covers and dragged my robes on. Quiet as a snake, I exited the dorm and then the common room too. I edged along the dark corridors, trepidation in every move and step. Several times, I heard the clattering of shoes, but I managed to avoid the patrolling prefects time after time.

Then I came upon it: the Room of Requirement. Or at least where the Dark Lord had said it would be. Barnabas the Barmy was sleeping in his portrait, quite soundly so. I paced in front of the wall three times, picturing the room I desired in my mind.

A silver door appeared on the wall, I stared at it with wonder. I had never seen anything like it at Hogwarts before. It was elegant and neat. It swung open soundlessly, revealing a huge room. The ceiling stretched for over twenty metres and I couldn't even see the walls because of all the garbage inside.

There was one thing I was looking for, one thing which would bring not just glory to myself, but glory to the wizarding world. In time, it would bring glory to Hogwarts too.

Or that was what I was trying to tell myself. In reality, my mind was darting around like a cornered squirrel.

I grimaced at the sight before me. It was a lot of space to cover to find what I wanted. Without wasting a moment of time, I set to work.

The Hogwarts I had grown up with had been one of danger and drama, I wanted to make sure no one else went through the same again.

Doing that and the mission would be hard, but Potter had managed to do far more than that, so I must be able to do what I wanted to.

-()-

-Harry-

I woke up Monday with a strange sensation. That familiar yet so foreign feeling only grew when I dressed, yawning loudly. Classes began today.

First care, then herbology, then potions and lastly defence. It was a completely normal day; a day I would relive many times in the coming months. It dawned on me that I hadn't gone to real classes for almost a year.

I was a duelling finalist, had defeated Bellatrix Lestrange in a duel and was destined to fight the dark lord. Hence, I would be stuck in a sweaty greenhouse, trying to wrestle a plant under control.

A small smile tugged at my lips. It didn't sound all too enjoyable but I was sure it would be. Getting back to normal felt good. This year would be different, but at least I could regain some sense of normalcy.

Breakfast was quiet, not surprising at all, considering the fact that classes started at eight. Everywhere I looked, people were yawning loudly and shuffling along with half-closed eyes. I shook my head, it was their own fault for not adjusting their sleeping schedule ahead of school. Going to sleep at three and waking up at six-thirty was generally not advisable.

Either way, it was with a small smile that I trudged out of the castle, surrounded by my classmates, to head for my first lesson of the year.

-()-

Potions. What an interesting subject, right? I arrived a couple of minutes early, with Ron and Hermione. Just resting with my back against the slightly wet dungeon walls felt so incredibly nostalgic; it was as if I had travelled in time. I was back.

I almost smiled when Malfoy turned up with his Slytherin mates. Seeing him sneer in my direction made my lips curl, I couldn't resist it. This was Hogwarts and it was nice to have it back.

Greengrass and her friend, Davies, were talking about something behind Malfoy. Davies looked up and I met her eyes. The brunette seemed surprised for a moment before she glared at me.

I looked away quickly and initiated a conversation with Ron. It didn't take much longer for the door to swing open and reveal the inside of the classroom. It smelled nothing, that was unusual. The air was heavy and the humidity was almost tangible, but it smelled nothing.

We piled inside and took our seats. I felt a little disappointed that Greengrass didn't even spare me a look, I felt like we had made some progress in the last meeting. That had been over a month ago though, perhaps she had come to her senses and remembered that yes, it was me who humiliated her publicly.

Professor Slughorn stood at the desk, several cauldrons standing at the wooden surface.

"Hello, class," he said cheerily. "Today, we will review some of the basics, and then, we will have a little bit of a competition."

I raised my eyebrows and exchanged a look with Hermione. This ought to be interesting.

Slughorn gestured to the cauldron closest to him. The liquid boiling inside looked like something one would find on another planet.

Hermione unsurprisingly answered and Slughorn's lecture went on. Polyjuice and love potions; he had quite an assortment of brews.

The last one, the one encapsulated in a small little vial, was the one which dragged every glance. Felix Felicis: the potion of luck.

I could see every single gaze in the room fixed on the item as if it was the solution to their every problem. Which it could be, I supposed. On the other hand, luck could only get one so far.

So Slughorn set us to work; the one who brewed the best 'Draught of Living Death' got it. Plain and simple.

In the end. It wasn't me or Hermione or Malfoy or even Greengrass who got it. No, that went to Greengrass' friend, Tracey Davis.

-()-

-Daphne-

I sat up in my bed in the middle of the night. I heaved out heavy breaths. The clock on my nightstand told me it was 2 hours after midnight. My eyelids shut and I quieted my breathing. There was a faint bubbling coming from the ceiling, most likely the giant squid in the lake.

I swallowed deeply. Tracey was deep asleep in her bed. Pansy, Millicent and the others appeared to be the same. Except me.

Why couldn't I just be like the others? How easy life could be if I worked like Pansy, or Millicent, or anybody else. None of them ever appeared troubled after a long day of school, none of them ever felt a shred of embarrassment.

If only I could stop thinking, for only a moment. Then I could get some rest.

My head was the trunk one carried through life. Except everything was just shoved inside, none of the clothes were folded, the thing was shut and zipped close by pure strength. The trunk was under constant pressure, the clothes didn't have enough space inside; they wanted out. Now. Ten minutes ago.

I laid down on my bed again, staring at the ceiling as if it was a beautiful painting.

I was failing.

I pushed myself to a standing position and went inside the bathroom. The warm, yellow light made my hair shine like gold. I smiled at myself in the mirror; even to me, it looked dead and hideous.

I was failing.

The sentiment echoed through my mind like I was stuck in an endless tunnel. I had been given a task –a crucial task– and I was failing.

My hair was wild as a wolf running through the forest at midnight, chasing small wildlife it could never catch. I took a firm grip of my brush and started to work on my hair.

Something had to change, I knew. It had been one week since the start of term and there was absolutely zero progress. One could actually say there had been a negative progress. I glared at the girl in the mirror, and removed another knot forcefully from my pride. Negative progress wasn't progress, it was failing.

I let out a deep breath. My brushes were long and measured, slowly but surely, cohesion returned to my hair.

I couldn't be too obvious in my approach, then Potter would see through me. The best way would be to get him to come to me.

The question was how?

I paused my work and stared at myself hard in the eye. What could I do?

My eyes wandered over every single detail of my own eyes; they were blue like the sea, there was no warmth in them. Could I do it with eyes as cold as the deepest ocean?

"Yes," I whispered.

An idea formed in my mind. Potter had a map he could see where everyone was. I could use that, I had used it before. I smiled at myself widely, noting how my lips widened and how my cheeks moved. I didn't like it, it didn't look real to me.

Yet the plan was. Should I try to make it seem as if I was attacked? Then he'd try and go to save me.

"No." I shook my head. It was too unreliable, and I would need someone who could attack me, and not fear Potter's retribution.

What if I started crying in class? Then I rushed out and hid in the classroom I had used last year.

Would Potter feel obliged to follow me and find me?

I was pretty certain the answer was yes. Then what? He would try to console me, not the best grounds to build a strong relationship. Plus, I would become the topic of discussion for the entire school if I made a scene.

I couldn't deal with that.

So that option was out too.

I picked up the next brush, this was the expensive one. Charmed to saturate the hair and keep it alive and enticing. It was difficult to work with, requiring an excellent elegance in the movement of one's wrist, but I was an expert.

What if I asked him to help me with something? Perhaps teach me to defend myself. He wouldn't refuse that, right? I could make up some sob-story about how I've always been afraid of walking the halls after dinner and now want to feel safe.

I stopped my work and observed myself. The hair graced my head and shoulders like flowing gold. Pure perfection.

-()-

-Draco-

My leg wouldn't stay still. No matter how much I tried. There was a constant prickling in my neck, as if someone was looking at me. When I surveyed the Great Hall in search of any pair of eyes on me, I found none. Was I growing paranoid?

I swallowed deeply and tried to listen in to Blaise's conversation with Theo. Their voices turned into an indecipherable murmur that I couldn't decipher. I just wanted to get dinner over with -so I could spend my time on matters which really mattered. We were a week in and the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement was not even an inch closer to being mended.

I had to do it before yule, or stay home.

That didn't change the fact I was failing. That had to change. Now.

I felt a presence land beside me. It was Daphne, no doubt arriving from herbology with Tracey. She greeted me with a smile and then engaged Tracey in a conversation. I clenched my fists under the table.

Daphne stifled a yawn beside me; coming to think of it, the dark bags under her eyes were noticeable and her eyelids fluttered shut every now and then. It appeared as if she didn't sleep well either.

Was it because of something Potter had done? I knew that Daphne and Potter had made some kind of agreement or truce or whatever it should be called. The question I had was whether or not they actually spent time together. Daphne had never been one to socialise too much; I remembered that she was almost unreachable when we weren't out on patrol last year.

Potter usually kept to himself too. I never saw him in the library or in any of the places where one could study. He could be in his common room.

Or he and Daphne could be hiding somewhere, together. I stood up forcefully and left the Great Hall. I couldn't sit beside her when she was with Potter. She had chosen him over me. I glared at Potter, who was currently extracting a letter from an owl's leg.

He was the source of everything bad. Potter was impressive, but his impressiveness only amounted to terrible things.

I stormed out like a hurricane and arrived on the seventh floor ready to turn something into oblivion. The stacks upon stacks of different assortments created a labyrinth worthy of the triwizard tournament.

The door of the cabinet was flung open as if by a strong tug of the wind. The inside was empty as ever, I glared at it like a furious typhon and got to work.

Spell after rune after charm and yet there wasn't a single result.

I flung my wand into the ground. It clattered away, leaving me in eerie silence. My legs lowered me down to the floor, I rested my back against the cabinet.

Why couldn't it just work? Why did things have to be so hard for me?

Why couldn't I just be as lucky as Potter?

I paused in my thoughts.

No.

It wasn't luck, it couldn't be.

I stood up again.

I had to work. Work as hard as I possibly could.

No.

I had to work harder than I could.

A/N: I'd be delighted if you left a comment about the chapter! There'll be another chapter next week. See ya!