Fighting the Feeling
July 23rd
5:22am
Black Chateau, Isle of Man
Harry
Sometimes, Harry hated his room at the chateau, specifically when he wanted to sleep in. That time of year, the sun rose at quarter past five and having spent so long sitting in a dark cell, the very instant the sun reached his eyes, he was awake. Now, he sat at the desk in his room, testing his wandless abilities by lazily levitating the elder wand in front of him.
The wand, like any other, was a conduit for his magic, but the elder wand… never had he felt the true ceiling of his power. It felt wrong, like a shortcut, and it worried him. 'Dumbledore said the wand will try to use my own arrogance against me, I didn't imagine its agency to be this sophisticated though.' Already the wand had acted without instruction, it may have been to his benefit then but that may not be the case next time, he had no desire to blow up half the chateau if he received a bad report.
Dumbledore's journal was proving to be a valuable source of information though. What began as notes on the physical properties of the elder wand, soon became discussion on the wand's nature.
When I was a younger man, the wand acted like a teenager, testing its boundaries. Every last minute meeting with obstinate lords, it called for violence, every ministry worker trying to interfere with Hogwarts, it begged me to put it to use. I would find myself contending with it, butting heads if you will, yet it still followed my every command.
A curious nature I'm sure you agree, but not foreign, not where magic is concerned. You see Harry, I have had this wand for many years and thus I have afforded it significant time for scrutiny. The magic, embedded within the wood, is not so unlike a compulsion charm and the longer we impress our will upon it, the less it affects us.
This, of course, stimulated a wonderful consideration of the ethics of such a charm. Was it simply to cause the most chaos? Or does it derive from a contemporary notion of strength whereby–
"Am I to find you deep in thought every morning?" a groggy voice interrupted his reading. Daphne hadn't left the bed yet, propped up with one arm whilst still under the covers, she seemed every bit as tired as he was.
"You know me," he muttered, not taking his eyes off the rotating wand, "can't resist a good brood."
He heard the covers shift and felt her arm snake around his shoulders. "That I do," she remarked in a tone conveying a hint of concern, "what's on your mind?"
He could talk about the elder wand, but returning to the chateau last night to be met with a staggering amount of redheads, he was reminded of an interaction from earlier in the morning. He lowered the wand to the desk and focused entirely on the conversation. "The healer, Sally, she asked if you had found me?"
Daphne raised an eyebrow, she was surprised he even had to ask, let alone mask the real question behind some kind of camouflage. "Are you surprised?"
"No," he quickly refuted, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she would search for him but that wasn't the issue. "Arthur Weasley, he reacted in an odd fashion."
"Ah," she exhaled. She moved from leaning on his back and settled in a position resting on the edge of the desk, facing him. "I didn't exactly observe any set of rules, moral or otherwise." She seemed genuinely hesitant to admit that, which created a new worry for Harry. They had created a horcrux together, killed a professor, surely she could confide such actions in him. "Few approved."
Harry watched her face twitch and strain as she held it in her desired way. 'Something serious happened, something that has truly affected her.' As far as he knew, the list of people that could cause such a reaction was incredibly small.
"Your family?" he cautiously asked.
She nodded ever so slightly and Harry began to wonder if his imprisonment had been more detrimental for her or himself. "My mother," she explained, "she felt I was a bad influence on Astoria. My father relayed her request to separate myself from them… it didn't go well."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry genuinely said as he laid his hand on her arm.
She held his hand and managed to steel herself for an intimate few seconds of eye contact. "You," she began earnestly, "are worth it."
He knew his eyes widened comically at that, it never failed to amaze him when she spoke her true feelings, it was such a departure from the norm that it always felt kind of surreal. The only emotion that matched his surprise was the gratitude he felt for her sacrifice. From the sound of things, no one, not even those he considered family, went to the lengths she did to try and find him.
And so he manifested those feelings into action, gently pulling her down into an appreciative kiss. It was short, barely a few seconds, yet it still managed to convey the right message.
"Thank you," he uttered as he pulled away.
She smiled, but didn't say anything in return. Harry had only been back for a matter of hours after all, the feelings of loss lingered on. She patted his hand and slowly slipped from his grasp, whether she found true comfort in his words eluded him. He wanted to console her though and so his mind frantically tried to find something of substance.
"I would do the same," he managed to say, stopping her from entering the bathroom. Harry stood up out of his chair so he could turn to see her face. From the sustained eye contact he was experiencing, he knew he had her full attention. "Your family, the others, none of them have had to look inside themselves and ask that question. They don't know what it's like." He closed the gap, reached out his arms and offered an embrace. Daphne seemed hesitant, the persistent pessimism of the past few weeks fought hard to maintain distance, however, she craved the warmth his closeness afforded. She leaned in and rested her chin on his shoulder as he carried on. "But I know," he muttered, "I know that you and I, we're different, what we share is special. Anyone who gets in the way of that, they're going to lose. The 'how' is irrelevant."
'Good job Harry,' he silently congratulated. Upon finishing his mini-monologue, Daphne held him properly, gently squeezing to increase their closeness. He had found the right words after all and not a single one of them was a lie. Had the roles been reversed, his status as a 'saviour' would be quickly reevaluated and the death eater population of Britain would diminish at a commensurate rate. But that didn't happen and so he banished the thought from his mind, he was back now and he would rather appreciate the present than dwell on an alternate reality.
July 23rd
4:27pm
Black Chateau, Isle of Man
Harry
The approach to the meeting was not accompanied by quiet reflection, that was impossible. Shouts from inside broke through the doors and reverberated up the main stairs. He couldn't make out a single intelligible word but the emotions behind them were clear, outrage, anger and most of all fear. He could only imagine why, did they think he was a puppet, sent to spy on them by Voldemort? Or were they simply dissatisfied with how the war was going?
'I won't have to wait long to know,' he figured as the shouting reached its peak through the thick walls. The reason the yelling was so loud became apparent, the door to the room was ever so slightly ajar, which also made their entrance less announced than it would've been.
Harry pushed the door open and took in the room. People he knew well and people he vaguely recognised were in various states of uproar, some were standing up, screaming their heads off and others were sitting calmly in their chairs debating with whomever they could. The two at the end of the table closest to the door noticed Harry first, Sirius on the left and Neville across from him. Sirius looked to have slipped into his depression once again, there was no bottle present, but that could be a product of previous punishment rather than a lack of desire. Neville though, Neville was angry. His rage filled glare towards Harry felt so incredibly wrong, he figured it was Luna's death that elicited such emotion and hoped that, with time, it would pass.
"Potter," a man's voice uttered. Harry didn't catch who it was but the effect was instant, nearly all of the people who were standing planted themselves in their seats hastily and all arguments fizzled out swiftly.
"Welcome back lad," Moody said from down the table.
His eyes swept across those present, not focusing on any one person in particular. Many of their faces now rested in a way that could only be described as grim, some drew strength enough to smile at him as his gaze reached them. 'No suspicion… perhaps Tonks has already confirmed my identities for them.'
"Thank you, Alastor."
The walk towards his seat was awkward beyond belief, each and every person tracked him with their eyes, most of them riddled with disbelief. He made it to the end of the long table without cringing but paused when he reached for the chair.
'This doesn't belong to me anymore, at least not for a little while.'
He turned around and found Daphne's inquisitive gaze, only to grab the chair behind him, pull it out and indicate with a nod for her to take it. She didn't take it straight away, furrowing her brow trying to understand why. She realised she was holding up the meeting so instead of psychoanalysing him, she took a seat at the head of the table as he took the seat beside her.
"Moody, report on yesterday's raid?"
"Four prisoners excluding the Rookwood family, the wife pulled through thanks to Sally's good work." At that he turned to the end of the table and gave the mediwitch in question a respectful nod. Re-centering he continued, "seventeen death eaters died to our six aurors."
"We also recovered a concerning amount of intelligence in the preliminary interrogation," Kingsley piped up from beside Moody. "He had information on nearly every top official from when the ministry was still standing, as well as stolen secrets from the department of mysteries."
"Then the raid was an overwhelming success," Daphne concluded to the disgruntled looks of many. She hadn't acknowledged the six dead that they had incurred, all of which were at least liked by someone in their camp. Seeing their disquiet, Daphne continued, "we'll hold a ceremony tomorrow for the brave aurors who lost their lives for this victory, Sally if you could oversee?"
"Of course," the woman answered with a serious expression. That seemed to ease most of their minds and so the meeting continued as plan—
"What about Luna?" Neville's question brought shame to Harry's heart. Having been captured on her first mission outside of Hogwarts, she had unintentionally proved Harry's fears right. He had told them that their contributions would be strictly constrained to the castle. But, they made their decision, and Luna paid the price.
"I buried her near her home," he spoke softly, trying to placate the irate Longbottom, "I could take you there in the next couple of days?"
Neville stared at him for a moment, those watching could see his anger physically dissipate at the prospect of attending Luna's grave. His shoulders sagged and the thin line his mouth made when he was angry slowly transitioned into a frown. All he could manage was a nod to acknowledge Harry's proposition, any more and he probably would've burst into tears.
"Perhaps we should update Harry on our current position? I can't imagine he received much information in Voldemort's hands," Remus, ever the mediator, suggested. The man looked haggard as ever but still managed the tired smile he was accustomed to when Harry gave him a grateful look.
"Yes that would be prudent," Daphne agreed, "Sturgis, have you got the numbers for the camp?"
"I do indeed," the older man answered as he stood and pulled out a folded piece of parchment from his tattered coat. "As it stands we have just shy of three hundred noncombatants on the grounds, half that for aurors, order members and other fighters and twelve prisoners in the cells below."
"How many high profile prisoners do we have now?" Tonks asked excitedly
"Three." Daphne answered simply. "Rookwood and the Carrow Twins."
Harry's eyes widened, "the Twins? Voldemort was right, you've been busy."
"We have, the trace has been destroyed, auror office ransacked and nearly all of the intelligence Pettigrew gave us is spent." Daphne's voice was full of pride, she knew that what she had accomplished was significant, even if her methods had suffered much condemnation. "Many of the places we raided will also be unusable for some time."
Harry leaned back and gave Daphne a slight nod to communicate he had heard enough, they were doing well, the details of which would come with time spent in the camp.
"We now need to determine what to do next, with Harry back, any hesitance in making Voldemort hurt should be discarded." Daphne snapped her fingers and a parchment appeared in her hand, she raised her arm high and the parchment began to float above her head, growing in size as it rose. "Hermione, if you don't mind?"
"Not at all," Hermione replied.
Harry leaned forward and tried to find his best friend. Towards the back end of the table he found the bushy haired girl sat next to Blaise with a parchment in front of her and quill in hand. She wrote something at the top of the page and, when he checked the larger page floating above Daphne, sure enough a sentence began to form. 'Next steps' it said, followed by a single dot point on the left hand side of the page.
"Now we know–"
"Hold on," Daphne was interrupted by Dedalus Diggle who didn't sound even a slight bit apologetic. The man stood and swept his gaze across the group. "We should answer the question on everyone's mind first," his red top hat struggled to stay on his head as he whipped it back to Daphne, "who's in charge now that Potter has returned?"
'Hmm not ideal.'
"Harry of course," was Daphne's immediate reply. Harry tried to get her attention but she was holding a firm gaze on Diggle. It was nice she would so easily recede official command back to him but that wasn't what he intended.
"No." All eyes turned to him, he didn't mean to be so dramatic but he stood nonetheless. "Daphne will take the reins until I've fully recovered. When I laid useless in Voldemort's dungeons she was causing him so much grief that it gave me an opportunity to escape. I can think of no good reason to interfere with her plans as of right now." A small fib here and there never hurt anyone, or so he told himself. Revealing Snape's questionable loyalty wasn't something he'd been able to give a considerable amount of thought to. So, for now, that would remain confidential.
He sat back in his seat and turned his head expectantly to Daphne for her to continue. The way her eyes shined in a certain light and how her back straightened as her chest puffed out told him he'd made the right decision, one that meant a great deal to her.
Daphne drew as much strength as she needed from his support and went back to her original thought process. "As I was saying," she prefaced, "we know Voldemort's greatest strength right now is his overwhelming man advantage."
"Which he cultivates with considerable wealth and intimidation," one of the auror captains, Geoff Cobden added.
Daphne nodded as the page above her became populated with keywords like 'man advantage,' 'intimidation' and 'wealth.' "Precisely, that means we need to attack either of those things to limit his ability to recruit more people into his ranks, maybe even turn some away that are already there."
"The order spent a lot of time trying to turn people away from Voldemort," Remus spoke sourly. "As you can see, it wasn't very successful."
"Most people didn't even believe a war was imminent, perhaps now we would be taken more seriously," Kingsley argued. "Not to mention, we name dropped Dumbledore often, who, at the time, was labelled a traitor and a nutcase."
'He wouldn't have been able to do much anyway,' Harry apathetically thought, 'not a single one of them fit into his grand designs beyond being an acceptable casualty.'
"This seems more a half measure than an actual plan," Damien piped up beside him. Now that Harry had a good look at him, the forty year old man didn't look too good either. Harry wondered how much that had to do with the argument he had with Daphne.
'Daphne would do the same for him, Johanna and certainly Astoria, but I can understand the squeamishness.' As far as Harry knew, Johanna had been relatively sheltered from both wars thanks to Damien's contributions in the first and their isolation in the second. 'It's not real for her like it is for us, she couldn't possibly understand the stress Daphne is under, even now.'
"How so?" an auror at the other end of the table asked.
"What good would turning five or ten people away from Voldemort do? For every person we pacify, three more would've joined his ranks." Damien's point was met with unanimous agreement, they'd be wasting valuable resources on simply pulling people away from the conflict, not even recruiting them.
"What about the bank?"
Harry had to double check that it was Fleur Delacour he had just heard, her english had improved significantly since he had last spoken to her. He had been so shocked that he hadn't even truly considered her proposal.
"The bank?" Jessica Odgen, auror captain, asked confusedly. "Surely you're not suggesting we attack Gringotts?"
"Non," Fleur quickly rejected, accidentally falling back on her native tongue. "Simply the wealth is in the ground, the vaults, we could take it no?"
"Steal from Gringotts? We'd just start a war with the Goblins, one we would be hard pressed to win with a stable nation let alone now." Podmore's assessment was true, but one glance at Daphne and he knew from the scheming glint in her eyes that the idea wasn't entirely without merit.
"Hold on Sturgis," Daphne said as she cast her curious gaze onto the couple sitting next to Remus. "Bill, Fleur, you worked at the bank, yes?"
"We did," Bill answered, "I was more of a contractor for the bank but Fleur handled accounts, she'd know more about the place than I." He turned to his fiancé and waited for her to elaborate, as did the rest of the table.
"I didn't mean to walk up and take the gold from their hands," Fleur began, scrunching up her face to find the right words. Bill's encouraging hand on her back seemed to do its job as she spoke up more confidently saying, "maybe we could sneak down to the lower levels and pillage the death eaters' vaults."
"What of the thief's downfall? Any attempts to smuggle ourselves in would be completely negated!" Dedalus Diggle argued as if the rest of them were crazy. Again, it was a valid point, no one had successfully stolen from the bank besides Voldemort.
"Any magical attempts," Daphne countered coily. She wore the kind of smirk she saved for the schemes of a particular nature, schemes so perfectly brilliant that she had to express herself somehow otherwise she'd cackle like a super villain.
'Oh ho you've got something good cooking in that beautiful brain of yours, poor goblins.'
"What do you mean magical attempts?" Tonks asked quizzically, "how else would we hide our faces?"
Daphne turned to her but instead asked a question to the rest of the room. "How many death eater cloaks have we recovered? Twelve?" A muttering agreement spread throughout the room and her smirk turned into a real smile. "Tonks, we're going to take a page out of Harry's interrogation technique, but this time it's going to be a group effort."
"Oh my, that could certainly work!" Hermione exclaimed, the first to catch. She had spent nearly a week protesting the ethical merits of their stunt with Pettigrew. But, considering the victim, and the fact that they gained a hefty amount of intel from it, her protests fell on the deafest of ears. "If you all put on the death eater regalia and frame it as Voldemort reclaiming his follower's money we wouldn't have to worry about the goblins attacking us. We might even force Voldemort to fight two wars at once!"
"How would we eliminate suspicion of our involvement?" Damien openly queried. It was a prudent question, something the entire plan hinged on before it even began being truly considered.
"A second team, one that I would be on, would loudly come to 'defend' the bank from some of you whilst the rest of the first team go to the lower levels and take the gold bank-rolling Voldemort's army," Harry inputted. He was quite proud of that idea, of course, he wasn't all too pleased he'd miss out on a Gringotts heist but it was worth it to know he had a hand in making Voldemort broke.
"Aye that's it, put on a big show out front to distract the goblins from the real plan," Moody nodded, "I like it."
"We don't tell the auror groups either," Daphne elaborated further, "to them, they'll be responding to a routine attack."
"We should ensure the rules of engagement change for this particular attack, lest we kill our own people," Remus emphasised. Needless to say, that would be something difficult to come back from. "Perhaps we could frame it as a trap? Where we have intel that they're going to be high value death eaters that need to be captured not killed?"
Another wave of muttering agreement followed his suggestion, the plan was forming nicely but if there was one thing Harry knew Daphne liked to do.
"Let's sleep on it, some time to consider the idea will help iron out any rough edges."
'There it is.'
The wooden chair legs scraped against the stone floor as people rose from their seats and slowly trickled out. Next to him, Damien stood slowly and looked at his eldest daughter. His expression was pained, making Harry think the situation with Daphne certainly wasn't his idea. Daphne caught her father's eye but immediately flicked her own towards the exit. The message was clear, 'you've got nothing to say to me, leave' and Damien was no fool, he sighed and patted Harry's shoulder in familiarity before making his exit. She watched him leave but held her gaze on the door well after he was gone.
Tonks too remained, which Harry found odd, he expected her to leave with Remus or head out on patrol of the grounds. Even more confusing was the way she had been watching Damien, as though she expected to have to stop him from doing rash.
"You can go, Tonks," Daphne said without moving. Tonks glanced at Daphne worriedly then himself inquisitively. All he could do was nod, he didn't fully understand what was happening but if Daphne wanted her gone then it was for the best to follow that request. So she did, leaving the meeting room much less awkwardly than Damien.
"Command suits you," he complemented, hoping to break Daphne's no doubt negative thought process. She did stop staring at the door but she didn't seem pleased with the compliment.
"Take a walk with me?" she asked, leaving the compliment completely unrecognised.
"Yeah," he said readily. The cool evening air was bound to help her get out of whatever funk she was in so he rose to his feet to follow her. They left the meeting room last and took a left in the entrance hall towards the front door. The large door was rarely closed these days, with people coming and going for the bathroom or matters concerning the members staying inside, it may as well be removed.
The second they were out the door and walking through the camp, Harry was greeted by men and women from all over wizarding Britain. "Welcome back Mr Potter" and "glad to see you're in good shape" were just two of the many phrases sent his way, all of which he gave respectful nods and grateful responses too. It got to the point where he was running out of original things to reply with, there are only so many ways one can say thank you before exhausting all options.
Fortunately, the tents ran out before his vocabulary did and they found themselves at a small pond at the south end of the grounds. There was a small rock feature the shape of a castle or a fort of some kind on the bank opposite them which made him wonder who had taken the time to construct it, was it some Black from centuries ago or one of the children in camp right behind him?
Daphne stood still, staring at the water completely zoned out. "Uh Daph—"
"Astoria, she has a blood curse, the more she uses her magic the more it accelerates her condition," Daphne spoke suddenly and sadly. It was the first he was ever hearing of it, which really surprised him, with his mouth hanging open in shock he listened. "We don't talk about it much, we're not ashamed of her, but it makes people treat her differently and that's the last thing she wants."
"I understand," he said honestly, Harry knew all too well the desire to be treated like everyone else. "Is there any hope for a cure?"
"No," she answered definitively, it wasn't easy for her to admit there wasn't a fix for this particular problem. "Many of our ancestors tried, when the curse was fresh and weak, but now, well now it's firmly ingratiated in our blood. Every generation of Greengrass has the chance of inheriting the curse, only if you're female of course."
He didn't know how to respond, didn't know if she needed reassurance, answers or something else entirely. The safest option was the one he went with, stepping forward and resting a hand on her back.
"My mother, she knows I wish the curse had chosen me instead, she also knows I feel guilty spending so much time improving myself whilst Astoria is forced to live in a bubble." Daphne raised her hand and a pebble rose from the ground at her feet and gently landed in her palm. "I try to share with Astoria experiences that everyone should have, that she's been denied, it doesn't always go over well with my mother."
'I'd have never guessed her family relationship was so tense, I've only really ever worked with Damien, I suppose the reason for that is clear now.'
"That's why this separation is so cruel," Daphne continued absentmindedly turning the pebble over in her hand, "she seeks to punish me for all the times I've encouraged Astoria to live, to experience life first hand rather than hear about it from others."
Johanna's fears were valid but removing Astoria's biggest supporter didn't seem the right decision to Harry, whether that was his bias towards Daphne, he couldn't say. "I don't know much about your mum, but I think that, if you've been there for Astoria like you say, then I doubt she'll be quick to cut ties with you." From the way she described it, Daphne is to Astoria what Sirius is to him, and no matter what Sirius did, he'd forgive him on the sole basis that he was the only one in his corner when he was at his lowest. "Maybe it's time for a trip under the cloak you've been borrowing?"
"Yeah," she said with a sigh. It was a sigh of relief though, Harry attributed it to getting that whole mess off her chest. She took one final look at the pebble before aggressively throwing it into the pond. "I was losing everything so fast, you, Astoria, everyone was turning against me…"
'Not everyone, never everyone.' He used the most hopeful tone he could muster as he spoke. "I'm back now and you've managed to wrestle the others in line by focusing on the bank heist, we just need to sneak you into your family's tent and everything will be right as rain."
Daphne nodded, she more focused on the ripples in the water than him so he knew it was more that she was convincing herself than responding to him. "Thank you, Harry, I can see that you're trying, I just need time to readjust," she acknowledged softly.
"Anytime," he affirmed with a smile, "we'll sort it all out, I'm sure of it."
They didn't stay by the pond long, instead they retired to the manor early for some rest and relaxation, spending the evening simply enjoying each other's presence after being apart for what seemed like ages.
A/n What's up gamers it's ya boy RevanchistVII coming at you with another update—
Alright cringe is done let's get to it. Harry's wandless abilities will be the prime 'training' focus this book, we'll see him develop that kind of fighting style alongside Daphne which opens up some cool opportunities in combat sequences (of which there are many).
Dumbledore's journal won't be too present, I plan to use it for when Harry has to learn something specific which Dumbledore had insight on and only then. Like, you guessed it, the elder wand. The compulsion idea is one I came up with fairly late in the planning stages after reading a text post about how the hallows 'lure' you to death. For instance the wand gives you immense power but also makes you more violent if you don't resist its bloodlust, leading to an early grave. Whether its origin is chaotic wizards or death itself is still up to you.
The bank heist, that's the big finale for this arc, it's the loyalist forces exercising the most resources yet to get the most return. They're United, organised and ready for a fight, the heist is looking to span maybe two-three chapters at the moment simply because there's a lot to cover. The thief's downfall workaround I am so quite proud of, I haven't seen that done anywhere elsebut correct me if I'm wrong.
Now on to Harry and Daphne, it was important for me to make their conversations feel natural, their reactions authentic and the topic real. Hence why this chapter took so damn long to write. The first conversation was the one this chapter was poised to address, was Daphne justified in her decision to brutalise those death eaters to get Harry back? Objectively, not at all. Thankfully, she doesn't give two shits about moral dilemmas, only her own and Harry's opinion matters. That's why I needed Harry to actually say he'd do the same, especially after Tonks, Damien, her mother, Moody and so many others told her she was wrong to do so, otherwise she might think Harry feels the same as everyone else.
The second conversation is one I had to write on a whim. Damien and Daphne's relationship being strained should have consequences, but it's important to understand why it is so strained. Daphne hides her feelings well, but if Harry's ever to be her equal she needs to share what's really going on. Daphne's role in Astoria's life was hinted at back in book 2 when they're at the three broomsticks and instead of scalding Astoria she encourages her. I think it's interesting that she'd be seen as the 'fun' one by Astoria. I think now as a reader you'd be able to understand more why the separation is as impactful as it is.
Next chapter teaser: Everyone needs a fuck-load of therapy
Hope y'all enjoyed :)
Revanchist VII