A/N: Howdy everyone! It would seem my A/N last week sparked a bit of confusion. In hindsight, perhaps I should have been a tad more descriptive in detail regarding how the story will 'get worse'. To avoid further confusion, concern, and to answer a few claims/suggestions from reviewers, please read on below:
1) This story does not have NTR. I actually had to google this term to understand what the heck it even means.
2) This story does not have r*pe, implied or otherwise.
3) The Potter family magic will be addressed. It is not an easy-out to bring Harry and Daphne together. Harry begins to address his feelings on it in this chapter. Those who persist in bemoaning the family magic should be pleased in future chapters. All is not as it seems regarding said magic.
4) I will not be releasing chapters faster than once a week. Yes, I have a healthy, necessary buffer of advance chapters written. Writing is a hobby that falls to the wayside when other priorities arise, as has recently occurred. My wife and I recently received wonderful, paradigm shifting news and I'm honestly not sure how much time I'll be able to dedicate to writing moving forward. That being said, I fully intend to finish the story, and regularly update my Profile Biography with my current progress on Giving Up. For the foreseeable future, weekly chapter releases will persist, regardless of public demand.
5) This is a HAPHNE story. I made that clear from the beginning, and I remained unmoved on this course. To those who found themselves caught off-guard or somehow mislead, hopefully this clears up any doubt.
6) A special thank you to those who support me behind the scenes. As many authors know and can relate, a single negative review can often drown out dozens of positive reviews. Words have power, and one can easily understand and experience this truth when they spend their time writing and putting it out for all to see and give their opinion. To my advance readers, beta, and friends, thank you. You know who you are, and it is your unwavering support that encourages me to continue writing each and every week.
7) Should you prefer a story with much less angst, an extremely satisfying romantic buildup, and fantastic writing, I highly recommend Harry Potter and the Revival of the Phoenix by PrinceAsmo. I would also point you to a few more works, since we're on the subject. As my bio indicates, anything by WolfgangNH is worth a read, and he is currently wrapping up his epic, The House of Potter-Greengrass. If you are a fan of Flowerpot, and want an extremely unique take, then I encourage you to visit Fleur Delacour and the Secret of the Teardrop by Triage the Potterfan. I could go on, but I'll leave it there for now.
Check out the HAPHNE discord #fanart for the illustrations from my wife. As always, thank you to those who review, favorite, follow and PM! See you next week!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just happy to be here!
Chapter 20
Astoria shivered as memories of that terrible day assaulted her while she lay beside Daphne. She felt Daphne place a shaky hand on her arm and turned to see her older sister with tears silently flowing down her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Tori," Daphne croaked. "I should have made sure you were okay."
Astoria shrugged. "Once Harry left, you did," she replied numbly.
Daphne flinched as if struck and worried her lip.
"I know what happened in the second task, Daph," Astoria reminded her older sister after sensing her thoughts.
Daphne rolled to her side, facing Astoria, who mimicked the action until they were almost nose to nose.
"Harry was never the same after the Yule Ball, was he?" Daphne whispered in a watery tone as she automatically wiped her eyes.
Astoria coughed heavily into her hand, shuddering, "No."
Daphne closed her eyes wearily, feeling as if she'd aged ten years in the last few hours. She was tired and wanted to sleep but knew she couldn't. She felt she owed it to Harry to see this nightmare through to the end.
No matter how bitter it would be.
-GU-
February 24, 1995, flashed across the screen. Harry sat at the dining table in the Room of Requirement, his family around him, and nursed a cup of hot tea. He had hardly touched food the last two weeks due to his worries about Astoria's condition and his own guilt nearly breaking him.
Andromeda had spent the better part of a week helping Harry to cope before finally partially succeeding. Granted, Harry finding out Astoria was going to make a recovery, albeit slowly, helped immensely with his state of mind.
Harry had heard Andromeda and Sirius talking late into the nights though. He knew Andromeda was just as concerned as Sirius now about the changes in his demeanor and personality. Recent events had caused more damage than either realized, and Harry didn't know how to explain it to them, although he did his best when asked.
It wasn't like he wanted to feel this way.
He just did.
"So, er, pup," Sirius offered a half-hearted smile. "I know we haven't gone over the plan much."
Andromeda shot a glare across the table at Sirius.
"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Sirius hastened to prevent bad interpretations. "Seeing as how the bubble-head charm is lacking, we procured some Gillyweed."
"It's a plant that will allow you to breathe and swim underwater," Tonks offered from her seat, her hair a navy blue, reflecting the somber nature of their breakfast. "It will give you gills, and I've heard it's a bit uncomfortable at first."
"Of course, Dora and I will be nearby to help should anything go wrong," Andromeda promised with an encouraging smile.
Harry nodded and didn't catch Sirius and Tonks exchanging a pointed look.
"There's, um, one other thing, Squirt," Tonks said. "We, er, found out who they took as your hostage."
Harry took a sip of his tea and ignored the tingling of his tongue as the far too hot liquid burned him. Sirius still hadn't managed to get the temperature figured out when he made tea.
Tonks looked pleadingly at her mother.
"It's Daphne, dear," Andromeda said soothingly. "Astoria was too ill to take part in the task."
Harry set his tea down and stared blankly ahead, processing.
"We're not sure why she was chosen," Sirius pinched his nose with a sigh.
"Dumbledore," Harry said in a monotone voice. "I think he overheard more than I realized when Daphne visited me in the hospital."
"When was this?" Sirius asked tentatively.
Harry sighed. "Third year, after the Hufflepuff match, when the dementors attacked the stadium. Daphne came to visit me." He swallowed heavily. "It… It's when she told me…"
Sirius nodded solemnly. "When she wanted to enter a courtship with you."
Harry blinked back angry tears. "Yeah."
"What's the plan?" Sirius questioned softly.
Harry stood suddenly, his chair scraping against the stone floor. He held out his hand expectantly.
"I go save Daphne," Harry said. He grimaced and added, "Even if she hates me."
Tonks slapped a blob of the slimy, gummy gillyweed plant into Harry's hand. "Go get her, Squirt."
Harry smirked briefly until his expression faded back to that of impassivity. He nodded. "Thank you." His eyes softened as he looked at his family. "All of you." Harry focused his gaze on his Godfather, "I'm sorry I haven't been myself recently. It's been tough…" he sighed.
Sirius stood and walked over to Harry, embracing him warmly.
"It's okay, pup," Sirius assured gently. "We're with you. All the way." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Always."
Harry nodded and, for the first time in weeks, gave a genuine smile.
"Love you, kiddo," Sirius called as Harry made his way to the door.
"Love you too," Harry smiled again and pulled the hood of his invisibility cloak up.
-GU-
Harry stood on the dock in a long-sleeved skintight black shirt and black swim trunks, waiting for the cannon blast signaling the start of the second task. Bagman had prattled on for what felt like ages, speaking of the dramatic nature of the task, the shocking surprise that someone, not something, had been stolen from them.
Someone they only had an hour to recover.
Harry had observed the other three, noting that Cedric seemed composed and calm, albeit slightly pale. He must have figured out the egg.
Good.
Victor was stoic, as always, although his eyes betrayed a hint of concern for his hostage. Fleur, on the other hand, was practically manic with worry, muttering incoherently in French. Harry knew he would be the same if he and Daphne were still on good terms.
It didn't help that Veela had an affinity with fire, which made them naturally averse to water. Nor that their ancient enemies, the Merfolk, were involved with this task. Fleur had her work cut out for her to be sure. Harry would have offered to help, but her distancing from him, especially in light of recent articles following Astoria's horrible blood curse episode, had quelled any desire to freely volunteer aid.
Bagman's voice echoed around the lake as he explained the viewing boards that would allow spectators to witness the underwater action. Harry didn't really care if he was being observed. All of Britain now knew of his discussion with Khisanth, his blatant embracing of parseltongue, and the near-certain connection he had with Slytherin.
Harry hadn't bothered to dispute the articles. What was the point? If there was anything he had learned, it was that Lockhart's words had been one hundred percent true.
"Fame is a fickle friend."
People's opinions, just as Arcturus had explained, changed with the wind. Perception, it seemed, was reality for most. Rita Skeeter was good, too good at her job, and those spectating the task gazed at Harry with mixtures of disgust, fear, outrage, and sometimes awe.
The cannon blast echoed across the lake and Harry swallowed the gillyweed he pulled from his pocket before diving in the lake without a backward glance.
-GU-
Where the hell is she? Harry thought irritably as he floated just above the dais on the lake floor, in the center of the merfolk's underwater home. Four posts had been driven into the ground, each with a hostage tied to them in some form of stasis. Now, only two remained.
Cedric had arrived first and taken Cho Chang with him. Victor, transfigured into some half-man, half-shark, was next, taking some Durmstrang girl Harry didn't know the name of with him. All that remained was Fleur, who had yet to show.
Harry turned again to look at the young girl that was Fleur's hostage. She looked like a mini-Fleur, and Harry rightly assumed she was her younger sister. Next to the girl, Daphne floated, looking serene and beautiful as ever in her sleep.
It was haunting, the way the little Veela's silver-blonde hair and Daphne's golden-blonde hair floated in the water as small currents buffeted them. On the outskirts of the dais, in the shadows, merfolk swam in lazy circles, an eerie song vibrating through the icy water.
Harry knew enough about Veela to know that the little girl was in real danger if she remained underwater. Not to mention the borderline gleeful expressions he'd witnessed on the few merfolk he'd managed to glimpse.
It seemed ancient hatreds were still strong, even in the waters outside of Hogwarts.
Harry checked his watch. He had just under fifteen minutes to spare. A red glow in the distance caught his attention, and he peered into the murk as it grew stronger. On a distant abode, Harry identified something that made his already chilled blood freeze.
That damn rune, the same which had been present in both the Chamber of Secrets and first task. Another red glow, this time behind Harry, had him turning in the water. Then another, and another, until it seemed the lake itself was permeated with a red haze.
With an urgency bordering panic, Harry set about freeing both Daphne and the little Veela with silent cutting curses on their bonds. They both fell forward like dead weights and Harry hastened to catch them. He draped the unconscious Daphne over his shoulder and wrapped his free arm around the little Veela when pain exploded in his leg.
He gasped and looked down to see blood slowly flowing from a gaping wound in his thigh. Embedded in the post was a trident with a brackish fluid leaking in tiny blobs that looked like water droplets.
Poison, Harry thought with a sudden onslaught of queasiness. Thank Merlin for basilisk venom.
Motion in his peripheral had him jerking the little Veela out of the way as pain lanced down his left arm which was shielding her. More blood seeped into the water and Harry began kicking as best he could, trying to move. His webbed hands did not allow him to easily use his wand, and the additional weight of the girls coupled with his injuries and poison-induced sluggishness, which his body was fighting, had him essentially dead in the water.
Harry moved instinctively as a merfolk darted toward him with extended claws. Daphne rolled off his shoulder and he brought his wand up, a red Stupefy silently following and sending the assailing mermaid away. He grabbed Daphne and started kicking, desperate to surface.
The next ten minutes were an arduous dance with peril. Harry would ascend, be forced to release one of the girls, cast a spell, and then recover the girl before repeating the process. At first it was non-lethal spells, but as the merfolk grew bolder, Harry was forced to delve deeper into the Black, Ravenclaw and Slytherin libraries.
Bluish-green blood mingled with red blood in the murky lake. Harry was tiring fast but had managed to keep both girls from being harmed, as the merfolk discovered that targeting the hostages was the swiftest way to land a blow on him.
As Harry neared the surface, he felt the effects of the gillyweed begin to wane. Abandoning all caution, Harry swam with a final burst toward the surface. The merfolk, with a collective shriek of anger, slunk back into the shadows, leaving a wounded and fatigued Harry to try and get the two girls, who were now acting as dead weight, to the shore.
Harry's body was on fire, and he felt lightheaded from what he assumed was loss of blood since poisons usually only made him nauseous. Worse, the little Veela was stirring, and Harry knew she'd be in a full state of panic once awake, especially when she found herself in a lake filled with merfolk.
Somehow, he managed to make it to the dock where Fleur immediately reached down and snatched her little sister out of the water, speaking in hurried French as the little Veela began wailing through chattering teeth. Harry heard a cough and glanced to his right where Daphne was floating alongside him, his arm around her waist.
Daphne moved clumps of hair that were latched to her face away, teeth chattering from the bitterly cold water, her breath misting in great plumes. Harry grunted and helped lift her out of the water where Madam Pomfrey waited, before he struggled to clamber up the nearby ladder with numbed limbs.
From somewhere far away, Harry heard Bagman's desperate apologies regarding the viewing boards and their failure during the task. He heard Fleur demanding Pomfrey do something about Gabrielle, who he assumed was the little Veela.
Daphne stood trembling uncontrollably, a towel draped over her shoulders, her sopping wet hair dripping. She raised a shaking hand and pointed at Harry, who was barely standing as an alarming amount of blood ran down his calf from a sizable gash in his thigh. His shirt sported several cuts and holes from where the merfolk had injured him, and blood seeped from the wounds and dripped to the dock.
Harry, both physically and magically spent, did his best to stand straight as Daphne stepped toward him with a blank expression. Confused, he began to open his arms as she drew close, almost as if to hug him. An explosion of pain in his groin doubled him over and he withheld a gag. Through bleary eyes, he saw Daphne retract her knee.
"F-f-fuc-k- y-y-ou P-P-Pot-t-ter," she chattered angrily.
On guard, Harry saw her wand tip glow red and knew the spell that was on her lips. He knew he could deflect the spell and counter it with ease. All he had to do was raise his wand. He sighed and resigned himself, secure in the knowledge she wasn't casting anything lethal.
Besides, he could never raise his wand against her.
As the Stupefy blasted into his chest and sent him off the dock, Harry sunk below the surface of the lake with a sad, resigned smile affixed to his face. In the silence of the water, a still, small voice whispered in his head how easy it would be to just breathe in and let it all end. He figured drowning would be quite uncomfortable and painful. Would it exceed the cruciatus curse?
Probably not.
The larger, stronger part of his mind fought away the temptation. Not that it mattered. His body demanded he take a breath and Harry prepared to succumb to the literal last gasp when something orange flared above the surface of the water before crashing into the water below.
Fawkes, loyal Fawkes, gently touched Harry's shoulder with his claws and, in another flash of flame, Harry was pulled from the lake and onto the dock, where he promptly retched the water he had inhaled. His lungs felt like they were on fire. Pomfrey appeared at his side, startled that he'd fallen back into the lake.
"I assumed you were waiting for the gillyweed to wear off," Pomfrey murmured as she began examining him. "You're in bad shape, Potter." Harry offered a strangled, choking chuckle as Madam Pomfrey called for aid to get Harry to the medical tents.
-GU-
"Are you sure you can't convince him to shed a few tears into this vial?" Pomfrey asked hopefully.
Harry, having once again been gifted a couple of healing tears from Fawkes, merely raised an eyebrow at the bird currently preening on his chest. Fawkes squawked indignantly and turned his head, looking quite dramatic as he did so.
"Erm…" Harry trailed off. "I don't think he's willing to right now. Sorry, Madam Pomfrey."
"He certainly has personality," Pomfrey chuckled as Fawkes chirruped.
Harry sat up and stroked Fawkes fondly. "Yeah, he is my buddy."
"'Arry!" a melodic voice called, and Harry found himself engulfed in a hug by Fleur Delacour, her still damp hair sticking to him as she sobbed into his shoulder. "Merci, 'Arry! Merci! You saved my sister! Merci beaucoup!"
"She's okay then?" Harry asked worriedly as Fawkes squawked indignantly and hopped off Harry to land on the bed beside him.
"Oui!" Fleur pulled back, grabbed Harry by the neck, and kissed both his cheeks fervently. "She is rightly terrified, but she is well." Steam began to rise from Fleur's clothes as she snarled, her inner fire threatening to burst forth. "When I get my claws on the judges! What were they thinking?!"
Harry extricated himself from Fleur's grip and cast a quick glance around the tent. Cedric was watching them with a grin and gave Harry a nod and thumbs up. Victor gave a near imperceptible nod at Harry when he caught his eye. Harry felt a prickling in the back of his neck and stiffened.
He stood, and Fawkes flapped his wings a few times, landing on his shoulder.
"I'm glad your sister is well, Fleur," Harry said as he began to make his way from the tent, thankful for Fawkes and his healing tears.
He was almost at the exit when the flap burst open, and the judges entered alongside Crouch and Bagman. Harry repressed his growl of frustration as he was quickly accosted.
"The rules clearly state that he was only to rescue a single hostage!" Crouch bellowed. "There is no clause that allows for moral fiber!" He rounded on Harry, eyes narrowed, and nose lifted imperiously. "Well, boy? What do you have to say for yourself?"
Harry's hand twitched reflexively. Oh, how he longed to curse this man.
"Stand down, Barty," Bagman interceded. "I'm sure Harry here had nothing to do with the viewing boards being interrupted."
Harry blinked.
"Well, is that true?" Crouch demanded.
Harry scoffed and elbowed past Crouch and Bagman, the former looking quite affronted at being snubbed.
"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore's grandfatherly tone called. "I advise you to explain your version of events regarding the task. The Merfolk are quite…" he pursed his lips, "…agitated."
Harry paused mid-step. "Don't suppose you've made any progress on how I was entered into the tournament?" he called over his shoulder. When silence reigned Harry spat derisively. "I thought not."
"Harry…" Dumbledore attempted once more with a slight warning in his tone.
Harry snarled and spun on his heel. "You idiots put a little Veela girl at the bottom of a lake in the care of their ancestral enemies!" He looked directly at where he knew Daphne was, having felt her eyes boring holes in the back of his head ever since he had stood. She sat on her bed, still shivering occasionally, staring at him with a cold expression.
"There was no way I was leaving her at the bottom of the lake," Harry stated matter-of-factly. "Doubly so when the same fucking runes that agitated both the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and the dragon in the first task were plastered on every fucking wall in the merfolk village."
He pointed at Crouch but never removed his gaze from Daphne. "I did what I had to do to survive. I don't give a damn about your viewing boards, your points, or your rules."
"And why did you fall off the dock?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
Harry watched the icy expression on Daphne falter, a hint of worry crossing her sapphire blue eyes. He smirked at her and turned on his heel, Fawkes still on his shoulder.
"Gillyweed hadn't worn off," Harry said as he walked away. "I would think you'd be much more interested in who is trying to kill me, Headmaster."
Harry didn't look back as he stormed out of the tent.
-GU-
Astoria turned her head with a small sigh as she heard Daphne wailing into the pillow she'd buried her face in. When Daphne finally lifted her head, her eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears, and her nose running heavily.
"I'm such a bitch, Tori," she whimpered.
"It's going to be okay, Daph," Astoria whispered wearily.
"It's no wonder he hates me!" Daphne hiccupped miserably. "I almost killed him!"
"He could have stopped it, and you know it," Astoria countered.
"Just *hic* one more," Daphne sobbed brutally, her shoulders heaving. "Just *hic* one *hic* more."
Astoria licked her chapped lips nervously. "The Potions incident?"
Daphne nodded and continued weeping bitterly.
-GU-
April 11, 1995, appeared on the screen. Harry stood outside the headmaster's office practically bouncing on his heels. Today was the day Astoria had been declared fit to return to Hogwarts. He had asked Madam Pomfrey every day for the past six weeks and the woman had praised Merlin yesterday when she'd finally been able to give Harry good news.
When a pale and wan Astoria emerged from behind the gargoyle, Harry surged forward and hugged her, careful not to squeeze too tight. The ocean of emotion within burst forth as he sobbed in both sorrow and joy that his best friend and confidant was back.
The last six weeks had been particularly hellish. Fleur had distanced herself once again when Rita Skeeter published an article about the potential four-way romance between Astoria, Daphne, herself and Harry. Harry nearly had a burst of accidental magic when he read the headline Does Harry Potter's Lust Know No Bounds? a few weeks prior. Daphne had been as standoffish and cold as she had been all year, despite him pulling her out of the lake.
But none of that mattered to Harry now. As he pulled back, holding Astoria at arm's length, the younger girl wiped tears of joy from her face and beamed up at him.
"I'm sorry," they both chorused before laughing nervously.
Astoria latched on to Harry's arm as he began unconsciously leading her toward Gryffindor tower.
"Tell me everything, Harry," she demanded playfully.
Harry felt the weight in his heart lighten slightly as he began talking.
-GU-
April 20, 1995, flashed across the screen. Harry was attending a mandatory DADA class that even his status as champion couldn't get him out of. Apparently, Moody was going to show them the Unforgivable Curses. Harry was less than enthused, having already suffered two of them in his lifetime.
And, of course, he'd been forced to attend with the Gryffindors, who shared the class with Slytherin. Which meant Daphne was nearby and glaring.
Great.
The demonstration began with the imperius curse, and Harry found himself being volunteered as a guinea pig by Moody himself, who was curious to see how Harry would handle the curse, seeing as he survived the killing curse as a babe. Harry's Occlumency training had advanced far enough for him to shake off the Imperio with relative ease, causing Moody's eyes to widen in shock when Harry hardly struggled under it.
What followed were two additional tests, or demonstrations as Moody preferred to call them, to confirm Harry's success wasn't a fluke. After throwing the Imperio off a third time, Harry had a burgeoning headache and was anxious to return to the Room of Requirement.
Moody moved on to other students, testing their resistance to the curse while Harry stood off to the side and tried to calm his nerves at having the DADA professor in his head. Eventually, Moody moved to Daphne who strode forward with her head high, eyes cold, and icy mask on full display.
Harry sighed internally as he bemoaned the fact that something within him – or was it maybe his blood? – wouldn't allow him to entertain the notion of pursuing other girls. He assumed the fact that he viewed Astoria as a little sister prevented the Potter family magic from triggering.
But what if he began to view Astoria as more?
Harry frowned as Daphne began quacking like a duck while the Gryffindors laughed and the Slytherins looked appalled.
It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, was it?
Harry shook the errant thoughts about his best friend from his head.
I wonder if there's a way to circumvent or break whatever this family magic is? Harry mused as Moody prepared to demonstrate the Crucio curse. Harry spasmed involuntarily. Fucking curse, he thought disdainfully. Oh, how I hate it.
It took a monumental effort to contain his rage when Moody demonstrated the cruciatuscurse, especially when Harry knew firsthand how badly it hurt. He almost lost the battle as his wand shot into his hand from its holster, seeming of its own will. Harry's magic began to build, and he felt something around him, old and latent, but was unable to isolate it when a student finally caved and begged for the curse to cease.
The spider Moody had been using as their test subject twitched erratically, and Harry grit his teeth when he saw Daphne laughing casually at something Zabini whispered in her ear. Harry glanced at Moody and briefly thought he caught a hint of bloodlust in the retired Auror's gaze. He didn't have time to delve deeper as his convoluted thoughts were interrupted by a flash of green.
That same flash of green that haunted his dreams every night, courtesy of the dementors. Harry hadn't realized he'd taken several steps forward, wand extended and pointed at the grizzled Auror. His robotic motions were broken when Moody, in a surprisingly understanding voice, called out to him.
"Easy, Potter."
Harry blinked and looked at his extended wand in confusion. Slowly, he lowered his arm until his wand rested idly at his side. There was a hushed silence in the room as Harry took a sharp inhalation, sweat beading on his brow.
Then he heard the snickers behind him, followed by mocking whispers. A quick glance revealed Daphne to be in the midst of it, a malicious glint in her gaze. Harry withheld a snarl and stalked out of the classroom without a word, ignoring the protests of Moody.
Enough was enough.
-GU-
April 27, 1995, flashed on the screen. After several discussions with Sirius, Andromeda, and even Astoria, Harry was fed up and wanted answers. Under his invisibility cloak, Marauder's Map in hand, he marched toward the lone dot of Daphne Greengrass who was in an abandoned classroom.
He didn't think twice about the Malfoy and Zabini dots moving past the room and away from him. He didn't care about the locking charms on the door. A flick of his wand and a silent parseltongue spell had the door blasting open and ricocheting off the stone wall while Daphne shrieked.
A wave of his wand and the door sealed shut with a half dozen locking and silencing wards, all in parseltongue. Dumbledore himself would be unable to dispel them due to the unique gift of Salazar Slytherin's line. He ripped the hood of his cloak down and, with a flick of his wand, Daphne was disarmed.
"I've had enough," Harry hissed dangerously as he stalked forward. Daphne stared at him with wide, watery eyes. "What the fuck is your game, Greengrass?"
Daphne had backed herself into the furthest wall as Harry approached, until they were almost nose to nose. She flinched when his fist slammed into the stone wall near her ear. Harry watched as several emotions warred between her gorgeous sapphire blue eyes. As anger, hurt, and fear flashed across her expression, he was startled when she looked at him with sorrow.
She wailed and buried her face in his chest, sobbing bitterly, her hands clenched into fists and began beating on his chest rhythmically, although there was no force behind the blows.
He hesitated and slowly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. He'd forgotten how nice it felt to hold her, how perfectly she molded to his body, how fantastic she smelled. He nearly lost himself in the smell of strawberries and lemons as she continued to sniffle into his robes.
The euphoria of holding Daphne, his Daphne, buckled his knees and he sank to the floor with her. She didn't resist and instead crawled into his lap, clutching him like he was a lifeline. He slowly ran a hand through her silky golden-blonde hair and a contented sigh bled from him.
"Daphne," he croaked. "What's going on?"
She looked up at him, agonized, "I've been so angry with you, Harry. I-…" She bit her lower lip. "I don't know…" Her eyes started watering and tears streaked down her cheeks. "Astoria is everything to me. Y-You almost k-killed h-her," she hiccupped. "And I h-hated y-you for i-it!"
Harry swallowed heavily, the memory of what happened to Astoria still haunted him. He opened his mouth to speak but a strangled garble came out instead. Choking back the raw emotion, he managed to huskily whisper, "I'm sorry."
"I- I'm sorry too," Daphne whispered in a watery voice. "I wanted to hurt you because you chose Astoria over me. Because you almost killed her."
Harry flinched but felt a small shred of hope enter his heart at her words. "So, I can court you now?"
Daphne stiffened and Harry felt the ember of hope smothered.
"W…" She opened her mouth and closed it several times, her expression strained and her eyes pleading. Tears continued to leak unchecked down her cheeks as she stared up at him. "We're…" she swallowed heavily. "Almost there, H-Harry."
"But you're done with Zabini, yes?" Harry pressed, his grip on Daphne tightening unconsciously.
"Y-yes," Daphne nodded fervently, her eyes fixed on Harry's.
Harry closed his eyes wearily, his grip on Daphne loosening. "What do I have to do?"
Daphne didn't answer, and he finally opened his eyes and looked down as she stubbornly shook her head, worried her lip, and wrung her hands. She was trembling uncontrollably while whimpering.
Realizing he had likely scared Daphne half to death earlier, Harry took a gentler approach, reaching down and gently turning her head toward him. She refused to meet his gaze.
"Daph," he whispered. "It's okay. I…" he grimaced. "I don't like what happened with you and Nott, or how you wanted to hurt me, but I can look past it. Just tell me what I must do to court you."
Harry's eyes widened when Daphne surged forward and crushed her lips against his, kissing him desperately. As before, he felt as if his very blood sang at the contact and he pulled her tight against him, his hands clutching her possessively. Their tongues dueled as their kiss deepened and they fought for dominance. Harry felt all the anxiety and hurt he'd been stockpiling begin to ebb until, finally, the need for air forced them apart.
Harry took in great gulps of air, fully intent on continuing as Daphne mirrored him, her eyes glazed with desire. She smiled at him brightly, and he felt his heart ache at her vibrant expression. He moved in to continue but she held a hand up, halting him.
"Win," she gasped out. "Win the Triwizard Tournament, Harry." She kissed him passionately once more, but much shorter this time. "Then I'm yours," she promised.
Harry stared at her, mouth agape, confusion etched on his features. He opened his mouth to voice that confusion when she silenced him with another heated kiss which carried on for several minutes. When Daphne finally pulled away, Harry's entire body felt on fire and his brain had turned to soup. Suddenly, she extracted herself from his grasp and stood.
Harry took her offered hand and got back to his feet, happy when she gave him a gentle, much tamer kiss. He gazed deeply into her sapphire blue eyes and said his next words with impassioned severity.
"I will."
-GU-
Daphne was hyperventilating while Astoria, beside her, was coughing severely, blood coating her hands.
It all makes sense, Daphne thought, horrified. Morgana help me. It all makes sense now.
Another brutal cough doubled Astoria over and caused the staff table to look their way. Daphne, wide-eyed and struggling to speak, gestured wildly for aid which came in the form of Madam Pomfrey, followed by Flitwick and McGonagall.
"Daphne, slow your breathing," Pomfrey said in a soothing tone. "You will pass out if you don't."
Daphne nodded and attempted to comply, while Astoria hacked into her hand. Pomfrey nodded at McGonagall who took over for her while she attended Astoria.
"Daphne," the usually stern woman said in a shockingly gentle tone. "Look at me."
Daphne obeyed, wide-eyed, her breathing sporadic.
"Breathe with me, dear," McGonagall took an exaggerated inhale. Daphne followed suit. Five seconds later, McGonagall exhaled, and Daphne mimicked her. They repeated this for several minutes before Daphne felt in control once more.
"Good," McGonagall nodded with a small smile. "What happened? I would have thought that particular memory would have been…" she trailed off and fought the urge to roll her eyes, "pleasant."
"I don't remember it," Daphne whispered, too stunned to speak. "And I think I know why."
Astoria coughed weakly and rested her head on Daphne's shoulder. "Me too," she wheezed.
"Filius, a word," Pomfrey gestured, and the Charms Professor nodded and walked over, where the two began conversing behind a privacy ward.
"Girls," McGonagall leaned forward, "while your assumptions are likely accurate, it would be best to not dwell on the unconfirmed." She held up a hand to cease their impending protestations. "I have surmised the same, but until Potter confirms it, do not allow it to overwhelm you."
She pinched her nose and then removed her glasses so she could wearily rub her eyes.
"Professor," Astoria said in a small voice. "I'm really scared."
Daphne gave a warbly smile and choked out a sob. "Me too."
McGonagall sniffled and stepped forward, surprising both girls by embracing them in a grandmotherly hug.
"I will speak with Filius," she whispered in their ears. "Until this is over, you two will not leave our sight, nor will any harm come to you."
She pulled back and gently thumbed Astoria and Daphne's tears away while they smiled hopefully at her.
"T-thank you, Professor," Daphne stammered as Astoria nodded numbly.
-GU-
June 24, 1995, flashed across the screen. Harry sat at the dining table in the Room of Requirement, eating lunch with his family. With a clear goal ahead of him, and the promise of Daphne's hand, Harry's demeanor had improved dramatically. Daphne no longer scowled at him, and the days of trading secret smiles and glances had returned.
It warmed his heart and gave him hope.
He'd explained the situation to his family who were all equally excited for him, and they attacked planning for the third task with vigor. Tonks quickly discovered it would be a hedge maze with a gauntlet of challenges, many of which she was able to ascertain. Training began in earnest and Harry devoted all his efforts to it.
All he had to do was win, and he could be with Daphne. Harry had asked, several times, why this was the case, but Daphne had deflected answering each time. Harry initially found this suspicious and wanted to address it, but each time he brought it up it provoked a very vigorous snogging session. Harry would be lying if he claimed he had not used this to his benefit… Several times.
Eventually, Harry just chalked it up to the Greengrass patriarch having some odd condition or wanting Harry to prove himself worthy or some such nonsense. Harry had stopped caring after his third – or was it fourth? – snogging session with Daphne.
Sirius cleared his throat, drawing Harry's attention away from his thoughts of Daphne.
"Listen, pup," he began, "we know that someone has been trying to kill you all year. There's no reason to suspect any differently with the third task."
"It is their last chance before the tournament ends," Tonks nodded in agreement.
"So, I want to put a tracking charm on you," Sirius drew his wand. "It will be undetectable, but just in case something goes wrong, I feel it prudent."
"Black family magic?" Harry raised an eyebrow, not knowing any undetectable tracking charms.
Sirius nodded. "Andi and I spent days pouring over tomes to find something that would work."
"Works for me," Harry shrugged and watched as Sirius muttered the spell and waved his wand. There was a tingling sensation on his skin that faded quickly.
Sirius smiled and appeared to relax. "Thank you, pup."
The rest of the day flew by, and Harry soon found himself heading down to the quidditch pitch which was now a giant maze. He stood amongst the other champions and turned to the stands, seeking out the golden-blonde hair that made his heart melt. He found Daphne sitting next to her sister and mother, a strained smile on her face. She gave Harry a terse nod and he grinned.
Just win, he told himself. All that matters is winning.
"Good luck, Harry," Cedric said with a slight quaver in his voice as he clapped the younger boy on the shoulder. "And thanks again for the help with the dragon. You really did save my life."
"You're welcome, Cedric," Harry returned.
All year, the older Hufflepuff had been rather polite and encouraging to him. Harry was just beginning to realize how thankful he was for that.
"May the best Wizard win?" Cedric held out his hand.
"May the best Wizard win," Harry affirmed and shook Cedric's hand.
Bagman's voice echoed through the pitch as he added unnecessary dramatics to the third task. Harry, dead last in points, shrugged and took a seat to meditate while he waited for his turn to enter. He barely registered the cannon blast that signaled Cedric's entry.
Three minutes later, the final cannon blast sounded, and Harry opened his eyes, magic thrumming within and around him, and entered the maze.
-GU-
It didn't take long for Harry to realize something was very, very wrong. Fleur's screaming had drawn Harry to a path that revealed Victor Krum using the cruciatus on her. The sight had made Harry's blood boil and he'd been seconds from sending a rather nasty Black family curse at the older boy when he noticed the glassy-eyed expression Victor wore.
Recognizing the imperius curse, Harry disarmed and stunned Victor before doing his best to comfort and attend the manic Veela who was a babbling mess of nerves. Once help arrived in the form of Mad-Eye Moody, Harry moved on deeper into the maze.
Next, he'd come across an area where up was down. His Ravenclaw heritage found it quite fascinating, and he briefly contemplated investigating further until greater priorities drew him away. A boggart greeted him on the other side and began shifting between Harry's greatest fears. When it settled on a dementor, Harry took a gleeful pleasure in nearly destroying it with his Patronus.
He loathed those creatures.
Acromantulas assaulted him next, catching him off-guard. He'd sprained his ankle quite well and was now in a gimped footrace against Cedric, who had emerged slightly ahead of him from a different path. Cedric had been kind enough to save Harry from the ambush.
Harry was lagging behind and feeling despair when he saw another acromantula descend from the sky. He yelled for Cedric, who ignored him, and immediately started screaming as he was buried beneath the massive creature. Together, Harry and Cedric managed to stun the beast and free Cedric from its clutches.
"Thanks, Harry," Cedric panted as he accepted Harry's hand to stand. "You saved my life again."
"You saved mine earlier," Harry was breathing heavily and favoring his sprained ankle.
The Triwizard Cup sat glowing on a pedestal not thirty feet away. Cedric and Harry shared a look before Cedric sighed.
"Take it," Cedric gestured. "By all rights I shouldn't even be alive. That dragon would have killed me for sure had it not been for you."
Harry shook his head. "I shouldn't even be in this tournament." He furrowed his brow in thought before an idea came to him. "A compromise?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"We both take it," Harry grinned. "It'll still be a Hogwarts win, no?"
Cedric brightened. "Yeah," he nodded eagerly. "It would."
And it still counts as a win for me, which means I can finally court Daphne! Harry thought happily.
The two boys leaned on each other as they stumbled toward the cup. They shared a final glance.
"On three?" Harry asked.
"One," Cedric nodded.
"Two."
"Three!" they said together, both grasping a handle.
Harry felt a pull at his navel and landed heavily on his feet where he gasped at the pain flaring in his ankle. Cedric pulled himself off the ground, having lost his footing on arrival.
"Where are we?" Cedric questioned, looking around in confusion.
Alarm bells were going off in Harry's head. He had expected a portkey since it made sense to have an easy way out of the maze and to declare a clear winner when they appeared on stage, Triwizard Cup in hand. Instead, they were in a graveyard of sorts, currently thick with a hazy fog that was making Harry's head buzz.
He felt a presence behind him and spun, wand in hand, before hesitating.
"Lord Greengrass?" Harry said bemusedly.
The man smiled, but it was layered with a maliciousness that had Harry raise his wand, only to find it ripped from his grasp by the older man. A bright green killing curse illuminated the mist with a green haze before it slammed into Cedric's torso. The boy dropped to the ground, lifeless.
Wide-eyed and completely stunned, Harry found himself rooted to the spot as the red Stupefy collided with his chest, knocking him out cold.
-GU-
"Oh my Gods," Daphne gasped into her hands.
"Dad's a Death-Eater," Astoria said numbly.
"And," Daphne choked on the raw emotion demanding release. "He used me!"
"To get to Harry," Astoria finished, her hands coated with blood from the heaviness of her coughing.
"I-," Daphne flapped her arms weakly, as if trying to steady herself on an invisible support. Her mind was reeling, even though she had suspected it. To have it confirmed crushed her.
Harry was used to resurrect the Dark Lord, just as he had claimed that night when he'd returned to the quidditch pitch with Cedric's body.
Voldemort was back.
"Daph!" Astoria cried, steadying her older sister who was near to passing out. "It's okay, Daph! Harry's alive, remember?"
Daphne whimpered pathetically as she began to wail and clutch her head.
"He used me!" she sobbed. "To hurt Harry! To isolate him! I…" she shuddered violently. "I feel so violated, Tori!"
"I'm sorry, Daphne," Astoria said through her tears and coughs as she cradled her sister while rocking her back and forth.
Madam Pomfrey appeared with a calming draught that she managed to convince Daphne to down. As Daphne felt her emotions begin to settle, her body still continued to tremble uncontrollably, despite Astoria and Pomfrey bundling the covers around her.
He has to know, Daphne thought feverishly. He has to know that it wasn't me! Please, Morgana! Let him know!
She choked out a bitter sob, tears falling freely from her eyes.
Or let me be able to tell him.
-GU-
Harry groaned as he was enervated. He quickly took in his surroundings and felt terror grip him. He was tied to a large grave, the ropes biting into his flesh with every movement. His wand was currently on the ground next to a man who made Harry's blood boil: Peter Pettigrew.
But what gave Harry terror was the hissing cauldron, big enough for a grown man to fit into, that Cyrus Greengrass was standing next to, a bundle in his arms.
"I must confess I didn't expect both you and Amos Diggory's son to arrive, Harry," he said nonchalantly. "A pity that Cedric had to die due to your inability to follow simple instruction."
"You killed him!" Harry spat.
Cyrus fixed Harry with a bored expression. "Yes, I believe that was established. Please do try to keep your wits about you, young Potter. You will need them in due time."
With that said he lowered the bundle in his arms into the cauldron. The brief glimpse Harry caught made him want to retch as understanding resonated in his core.
Voldemort.
His scar flared with pain, forcing white spots into his vision. He bit back a scream stubbornly, not wanting to give them the pleasure.
Please let it die, Harry pleaded internally. Please let it burn up in that cauldron.
Cyrus gestured to Wormtail who began bumbling about while chanting the spell, his wand motions jerking about due to his shaking hands. Cyrus approached Harry and paused a foot away, studying him with an amused expression.
"Silly boy¸" he emphasized. "Did you really believe I would let you have my Daphne? Heiress to my House?"
"She said…" Harry trailed off, unsure if he should speak. His mind was reeling from the fact that Daphne's dad was standing before him, clearly aiding Voldemort.
"Daphne did her duty," Cyrus backhanded Harry forcefully, turning his head and sending blood into his mouth.
Vernon's were worse, Harry thought numbly.
"Although it turns my stomach to think of her mingling with a mudblood like yourself," Cyrus spat on the ground and pulled a handkerchief from his robes which he casually used to clean his hands.
She did her duty?
"Catching on, are we Potter?" Cyrus cocked his head to the side.
Oh shit.
"Language," Cyrus tutted.
"No…" Harry trailed off.
"Oh, yes," Cyrus smiled evilly. "Your precious Daphne never loved you, stupid boy. She never cared for you. She was and is my perfect Heiress."
Wormtail approached and Cyrus held out a hand to stall him.
He's lying! Harry thought desperately.
Cyrus extracted a jagged dagger from Wormtail's grasp and turned back to Harry. He took a single step forward and, with clinical precision, impaled the dagger through Harry's left forearm.
"I'll bet that stings, doesn't it, boy?" Cyrus hissed as he twisted the dagger while Wormtail hastened to collect the blood that flooded from the gaping wound. "Hurry up, Worm!" Cyrus barked as Wormtail whimpered and scurried away. "I'm afraid I'm not lying," Cyrus revealed as he left the dagger in Harry's arm.
"You…" Harry gasped through the pain. "Legillimens…"
"Ah," Cyrus reached out and jerked the dagger free suddenly, as if he'd forgotten something. Harry screamed in agony, causing the Greengrass Lord's smile to widen. He stalked over to Wormtail and held out the dagger. "Quit dawdling, Worm! Perform your duty!"
Wormtail whined and moaned as he relieved Cyrus of the dagger.
"You shall soon meet the world's greatest Legillimens, young Potter," Cyrus informed coldly. "As for how I overcame your feeble Occlumency shields…" He shrugged. "The Greengrass family magic allows such abilities." He smirked. "And young Daphne is well-versed in our magic."
A scream from Wormtail drew Harry's horrified attention. The man had just cut off his arm at the elbow. Harry's scar exploded in pain as the cauldron began to bubble and froth, quickly boiling over. A putrid smell wafted in the air as Harry screamed from the pressure in his head that seemed to go on forever. His throat tore from the force of his cries and his head lolled forward weakly as the pain suddenly receded.
Harry spat out the blood pooling in his mouth, his throat raw, and gazed into the red eyes of the monster who had made him an orphan. He had chalk white skin, slits for nostrils, and his frame was gaunt and skeletal. He grinned, his pointed teeth nearly stained black as he held out his arms expectantly.
"Robe me," he commanded, his voice deathly quiet but laced with authority and power.
Harry shuddered and resisted the urge to squirm. His blood continued to flow out of the hole in his arm, staining the tombstone he was latched to red.
Lord Voldemort had returned.