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Precipice

July 27th

7:34am

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Harry

When he woke up that morning, Daphne had already left the bedroom, it was late for their standards and he wondered how the morning light didn't wake him. The room was darker than usual, a glance at the curtains found them drawn tightly closed, their colour changed from an emerald green to a deep black. 'Well isn't that a surprise, someone must have been feeling good this morning.'

Daphne's kindness quickly left his thought process as the morning urge to use the bathroom came a-calling. The master bedroom was the only room in the chateau that offered an ensuite and it was a luxury he wouldn't give up readily. He relieved himself, flushed and began washing his hands at the sink. As the water rushed out of the sink his eyes were naturally drawn to the reflection in the mirror.

A pale imitation of his former self, that's how he'd describe what he saw. The muscle that he'd built up over the two years working with Daphne hadn't suddenly vanished but it was severely unrefined. The malnourishment combined with the poor conditions had taken a toll on his health that only the array of potions on the counter in front of him would fix. Even then, it would take time and hard work to bring himself back to his ideal self.

His scars too had been affected, the paler his skin became the more prominent they appeared. The one on his face from the vampire attack, a vicious purple line running down the right side of his face, was more pronounced than ever, besides the day it was acquired of course. 'Can't even remember the blighter who gave it to me, Daphne says I got payback and then some, I'm inclined to agree with her.' He gently traced it with his hand, and whether it was his imagination or not, heard a faint scream in the distance. 'Just my luck that the injuries I receive are all the product of dark magic, I don't imagine I'll be saying goodbye to them any time soon.'

With his sobering self reflection complete, he began his potions routine. Wiggenweld, nutrient potions, dittany drops for the cuts and scars and finally a draught of peace to ease any anxiety the other potions may cause. The nightly routine was less intense, but no less disgusting, although, if it got him back in shape faster, he wouldn't complain.

Just around the corner from the ensuite was the sizable walk-in wardrobe that sported all of his clothes. Daphne's penchant for buying him clothes in the effort to look presentable had nearly tripled his supply of 'acceptable wares' as she put it. Gone were the oversized hand me downs of Dudley Dursley, what she had done with them he did not know but he wouldn't put a bonfire past her. The wardrobe was also full of Daphne's clothes which had come as a surprise the first time he walked in after his captivity. Apparently, the very week he had disappeared, she had started moving into his bedroom, first herself and then her things. Again, he wasn't going to complain, not about that.

Throwing on a pair of jeans, socks and a t-shirt, he grabbed a pair of shoes and headed for the corridor. Breakfast awaited him and so too did Neville who, despite his grief, was adamant they visit Luna's grave.

July 27th

7:29am

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Daphne

Despite her appreciation for Harry's support, she couldn't help but feel indignant as she threw the invisibility cloak around her shoulders. Today was the first chance she'd received to make time for Astoria, the previous three days had been meeting after meeting, strategy, supplies, grievances, you name it there was a meeting for it. Often, her and Harry would be sitting in the meeting room practically dawn till dusk, then have a small amount of energy for meditation before immediately crashing in their bed.

'Harry leaving me in command was a curse wrapped in a pretty package, gods know I was ready to hand it back.' The constant complaining and problem solving she faced at every turn had brought with it an unsettling realisation, Daphne was no longer sure she wanted to be minister. She had a gift for it, of that much she was certain, but she couldn't decide whether or not it was something she would be happy to do for life. 'Doubts, second guesses, how fortunate I am that they reside in future decisions and not the important ones of the present.'

Of course, rationally, she was very aware of the fact she was only seventeen with many years ahead of her if she was lucky. However, the certainty that came with a plan was a feeling she had grown accustomed to, to have that plan in doubt was unpleasant.

As she pondered her predicament, she weaved between the people who were milling about the main hall, there was a small amount of traffic with aurors and the odd civilian moving through whether that be for the bathroom or duties assigned to them.

As she approached the front door she halted in the middle of the entrance hall, three women were standing in the doorway making it impossible for her to slip by unnoticed. She pressed up against the wall to her left, just before the corridor that led to the guest bedrooms of the ground floor.

"You've got to grow up," a deep voice said harshly. Daphne saddled up closer to the corner of the corridor and peaked around the corner. The person behind the disappointed voice became apparent, Senior Auror Shafiq was grilling Sirius just outside the guest rooms. 'Poor fool hasn't had a break for twenty years.'

"I—"

"I know you were robbed of the chance, no one denies it, but if you cling to the past any longer you may as well become a portrait."

Sirius' face was one of desperation, not the kind of expression someone would make if they had given up completely. Daphne wondered if she had underestimated his attempts to rejoin the fold. "Halim, I can't, I'm not cut out for this. I tried, I really did, but Harry—"

"That boy," Shafiq interrupted angrily, "that young man," he corrected, "has lost just as much, if not more than any of us. To unfairly make him responsible for your actions speaks very poorly to your character." Sirius didn't offer any rebuttal instead choosing to turn his gaze downward like a chastised dog. "What about Greengrass? Why didn't you help her?"

"I didn't know, I wasn't… I didn't know."

"You need to take a chance on yourself my friend, you've endured so much for so long, let me…"

Shafiq's voice faded into silence as Daphne left her spot and began walking away, that conversation was private and she had already heard enough. It came as no surprise that Sirius had no idea what she was doing, after all, he had barely even left his room for meals. 'Whilst his help was not necessary, it would have been appreciated, to know then that I was not alone would've eased my conscience remarkably.'

The main door was clear now, the three women blocking the way had dispersed, leaving Daphne the opening she needed. She stepped out into the camp, the sea of tents always was a sobering sight for her, all of those people had placed their lives and the lives of their families in Harry or herself, the ultimate show of faith.

More and more people were filing out of their accommodation, yawning loudly and squinting at the bright sky. She need not worry about dodging all of the rising families though, her family's tent was one the closest to the house, just on the right of the door. They were welcome in the house, and for the most part they did sleep there, however her mother's decision had seen a decrease in the frequency of their tenancy. Daphne spotted the tent easily, not because it was distinguishable from the other plain white tents, no. She immediately caught sight of her mothers golden head, just as standout-ish as Astoria's and Daphne's. Her mother wasn't alone either, Daphne's father and sister were also present, standing in a circle it looked as though Astoria was receiving instructions that she wasn't all too pleased with.

Daphne thought seeing her mother would ignite a fury like no other in her heart but the anger fell flat before it had a chance to rise. As she watched her mother touch Astoria's head lovingly before reaching down to kiss her forehead, all she felt was cold. That absence of intense emotion afforded her a clarity she hadn't been able to experience prior.

'She cast me aside because she cares about Astoria, the pain she caused comes from a place of love…'

Her father pat Astoria's arm and the two adults went their separate ways from the tent, Johanna towards the greenhouses, Damien towards the main building. Daphne watched Astoria look around a moment before heading back into the tent.

'Prepare yourself,' Daphne thought as she began the final steps to the tent. Everything else fell away as she felt a spike of fear through her body, her mind wandering to the ideas of rejection and abandonment. 'Astoria is her own person, even if she doesn't understand now, perhaps she will understand when she finds her someone.'

Appreciating her brain for being able to rationalise the problem for her, she lifted the flap for the tent with her hand and stepped inside. It had been years since Daphne had been inside and much had changed. It was clear that her mother had attempted to make the place more like a home by hanging family pictures on the walls and populating the common area with their favourite furniture.

She slowly approached the fireplace where several frames were placed on the mantle above. 'Curious,' she noted mentally spotting a picture of herself smiling toothily, from many moons ago, well before the incident where she got lost in the woods. 'I wonder what you'd think of yourself now, we haven't managed a smile like that in an age.' Her reminiscing was abruptly interrupted as a loud crash broke the relative silence.

"Bloody Baron's bollocks! Why won't you work!"

The foul mouth could only mean one person, the purpose of her cloak and dagger excursion, the object of her apprehension. Daphne turned on her heel and made for one of the offshoot 'rooms' that she'd heard the commotion from. She pushed away a heavy curtain that doubled as the door and found Astoria, back turned to the entrance, wand in hand and making a mean face at her mirror.

"I'm not sure what you mean my dear, you look marvellous," spoke the charmed mirror in the most posh accent Daphne had ever heard, "your hair could do with a slight touch up but—"

"I don't want to look marvellous! Well I mean I do, but you shouldn't be able to see me!"

"I'm not sure what—"

"If you're trying to cast a disillusionment charm," Daphne began in a disapproving tone, "I feel obliged to ask you what for. Not planning on sneaking out and—"

"Daphne!" Astoria launched herself into Daphne's midsection, wrapping her arms around her older sister in an oxygen depriving embrace. In an instant any apprehension Daphne was feeling evaporated, replaced with an overwhelming sensation of relief. "I was trying to come see you," Astoria admitted, her voice muffled because her face was still squished on Daphne's clothes.

Daphne gently pushed Astoria's shoulder to get her off of her, but left her hand there as she leaned down to speak at eye level. "I don't imagine mother would be pleased to hear that." Astoria flicked her eyes to the floor in shame, but Daphne wasn't finished, "however, I won't tell if you won't."

Astoria beamed at her older sister before grabbing Daphne's hand and dragging her to the small single bed on the other side of the room. Daphne sat down, watching her energetic sister rush out of the bedroom and come back with a glass of water, handing it to Daphne as she sat on the floor beside the bed.

'Perhaps there was no reason to worry.'

"So, why is mum so mad at you?"

'Ah…'

"Do you have an idea?" Daphne stalled, the burden of having to explain the whole situation wasn't something she'd prepared for.

"Mum said you did something pretty bad, something she thought would put us in danger."

'More danger than attacking Voldemort? Interesting perspective mother.' She put the glass of water down on Astorias bedside table which gave her a moment to think on how to break the news. "I killed people, I don't even know how many by now, dozens perhaps." Daphne stood up and took a couple paces back towards the centre of the room, her back now turned from Astoria, "and sometimes, sometimes I didn't just kill them."

"Daph… you didn't torture them did you?"

Daphne's hand twinged as the memories resurfaced, she rubbed it subconsciously, all the while nodding for Astoria's question. She heard Astoria stand but the youngest Greengrass didn't speak, not for a moment anyway, she just stood there and processed the bombshell Daphne had dropped on her.

When she finally spoke it was in a soft tone of voice, laden with uncertainty. "And you did it for Harry? To find him?"

"Yes."

"Then… you did nothing wrong, right?"

"No." Daphne firmly replied. She crossed the distance and guided Astoria onto the place Daphne had sat moments ago on the bed then kneeled in front of her little sister, taking her hands in her own. "Mother is right, I did do a bad thing, the pain I caused…"

"Are you saying I shouldn't talk to you then? My own sister?"

"That's not what I'm saying." Daphne looked down and sighed, the ability to turn her feelings into dialogue alluding her. "I did do something cruel, I won't ever deny that, when I decided that was the route I was going to take I had to make my peace with that decision." She was rehashing mainly to provide time to formulate what came next, "but you are your own person, who you are, your thoughts, opinions, who you care for, that's for you to decide, no one else." Daphne got off the floor and took a seat next to Astoria and continued, "if you decide that you can't associate with me, then I understand and I won't force the issue. But I want you to make that decision yourself, not because mum, or anyone else, told you to."

Neither sister said anything after that, they sat in silence for what felt like ages to Daphne. When it became clear that Astoria wasn't going to speak, Daphne realised she needed to go. 'If I don't give her some space to think, it may seem like I'm forcing an answer, she doesn't need that right now.' Daphne stood and finished the glass of water before speaking again, "I'll leave you to it, I don't need an answer today or even a week from now, you let me know when you're ready, or if you'll ever be…"

Daphne gripped the cloak tightly and threw it over her shoulders, hoping to make a quick exit.

"Daph!" Astoria was still planted on the bed, her face wrought with conflict and yet she had managed to halt Daphne's escape. "I don't hate you, I just need time to come to terms with that."

Daphne's grip on the cloak tightened as she fought the swell of relief broiling inside of her. Words would fail her, she knew that much, and so she caught her sister's eyes and nodded gratefully. She flipped the hood over her head and vanished from sight then turned swiftly on her heel and began her exit once more.

'Time… I can live with that,' she concluded with a smile, not unlike the one in the photograph she passed on her way out.

July 27th

3:41pm

Black Chateau, Isle of Man

Harry

The world was spinning until it wasn't and the familiar sea breeze entered his nostrils. He and Neville landed right beside each other, with Harry's arm around the grieving Longbottom's shoulders. Their visit to Luna's grave was a depressing affair, within moments of arrival Neville had burst into tears. 'I don't blame you mate, first his parents then Luna, he's had a rough year.'

"Harry, I might stay here a second if that's alright."

"Sure mate, I can see Hermione hailing me anyway." Neville didn't directly respond, opting to sigh heavily as he turned away from Harry, walking to the edge of the apparition platform to watch the sea. "And Neville," the boy half turned to look at Harry, his eyes still red a puffy, "if you need anything you come straight to me, anything at all at, anytime of day."

He didn't need Daphne's ability to read body language to see that his offer had a positive effect on Neville, just knowing he could be vulnerable around Harry was probably monumental considering the sheltered life he had lived. Neville nodded and continued his march towards the stone barriers around the apparition point.

'Find as much comfort in the sea as you need to Nev,' Harry mentally encouraged his friend as he walked to meet Hermione in the middle.

"Harry, the squads Daphne sent out this morning returned while you were gone," Hermione began without so much as a greeting. Over the course of the past few months, Hermione had seemed to naturally take over administration of the entire operation, tracking comings and goings, relaying important messages and any kind of research required would be completed well before anyone could ask her for it.

"Good afternoon, Hermione," he replied with a fond smile, "thank you for relaying the message, good news I hope?"

Hermione's frustrated furrowed brow, the one she used to hide her embarrassment, evaporated at his query. "Very," she affirmed and plunged her hand into her tattered book bag. Harry raised his eyebrow as she rummaged around for something for a solid minute before finally pulling free a stack of old parchment. "The good news," she declared as she handed over the parchment.

Harry took them and motioned for her to walk with him back to the main building. As they got into stride with each other he began inspecting the parchment on top and was surprised to see what looked to be a floor plan of… Gringotts? He turned over the first parchment and looked at the one under, what looked to be a side on view of a chasm, with little archways inscribed at certain depths. "Is this…"

"They're not real plans, only estimations from two hundred years ago," Hermione said as she took them back from Harry and placed them in her bag, "but they're better than nothing."

"Where– wait," he stopped as the answer became clear, "Rookwood?"

"Correct, but not the one you think," Hermione confirmed as they began walking again, passing by the tents. "Dianne Rookwood revealed a hidden compartment at their home that housed hundreds of stolen documents from Augustus' time as an unspeakable."

"Has Daphne seen this? Or Fleur?" Harry asked with haste. Discovering the legitimacy of those documents would turn Daphne's plan from a pipedream to a real chance to hit Voldemort where it hurt and the quicker they figured that out the better.

"I'm out here telling you so we can find them and hash this out."

"Good, we find them then get a strategy going, if these plans are even semi-accurate we'll be in a much better position for the heist." Their journey back to the main building began once more with a renewed vigour, both of them eager to start making use of the intel. 'Kingsley's interrogations have been going well then, I wonder if Dianne gave up the information as a part of feeling beholden to us for saving her life, or if the threat of violence was involved in some way… no that's not Shack's style."

"Uh… Harry."

Harry stopped and looked at his long time friend who was staring past him with concern written on her face. He followed her gaze, immediately realising why and feeling his excitement vanish. "Yeah, I know" he said, the 'yeah' drawn out by a sigh, "I've been putting it off."

Hermione flicked her eyes to him and he could tell she didn't approve. Their staring match was a battle of two chess masters who had honed their craft over hundreds of previous matches. Harry would try to appeal to her logic whereas Hermione would accentuate his need to save others and on and on they'd go until someone cracked.

"Okay," he capitulated, nodding to himself, he knew he needed to sort it out sooner or later, "okay."

Hermione smiled triumphantly, "I'll tell them you're busy, Daphne can fill you in later."

Harry watched her wait for confirmation then leave as he gave her a nod, her purposeful strides carrying her to the central building swiftly. Harry, on the other hand, turned eastward, towards the cliffside where a single man stood watching the sea.

Harry reached him no time, the perks of being a bona fide legend meant people generally stepped to the side for you instead of you having to weave through them. Now that he was closer he could see a letter held tightly in the man's right hand, 'maybe he's received some bad news, I desperately hope not.'

"Sirius." The man remained unresponsive, eyes fixated on the waves below. Harry resisted the urge to sigh, Sirius' pain ran deep, rooted in experiences had long before he himself was born. His feeling of inadequacy would've been cultivated through years of being the only decent human being in his household. No matter how strongly he felt he was right, to be told you're foolish a thousand times over mustn't have been easy. "Sirius," Harry tried again, pausing to think about how to word what he was going to say. "I may not understand the pain you're going through but I am a willing and able listener so if you need to talk–"

"I've failed you, Harry," Sirius interjected. It was his conviction that surprised Harry the most, with that kind of admission, he expected self pity, not self assuredness. " James, Lily, Remus and Tonks but most of all you." Sirius shook his head, the long uncut curls swishing wildly as he did so. "Two years ago I told you I'd follow you, even if no one else would." Harry didn't know what to say, it seemed like no amount of reassurance would sway Sirius from his deprecating self reflection. "Now it seems I am the only one who has been of little use."

"No one blames you Sirius" Harry stepped forward and turned to his side so he could look his godfather in the eye. "You weren't seeing things straight, I get that, I've been there, but that doesn't mean you can't come back from it."

"I know that now, a friend of mine is helping me see clearly." Sirius, for the first time since Harry escaped, met Harry's gaze and continued with a sad smile, "I'm sorry Harry, I'm sorry I pushed you into all this, I wish you had a chance to have the life they would've wanted for you."

As he said this he stretched out his hand with the letter in it for Harry to take. Gently, Harry pulled the letter from his godfather's tired fingers, unrolled the parchment and began to read.

'Dear Padfoot,

Thank you, thank you, for Harry's birthday present! It was his favourite by far. One year old and already zooming along on a toy broomstick, he looked so pleased with himself, I'm enclosing a picture so you can see. You know it only rises about two feet off the ground, but he nearly killed the cat and he smashed a horrible vase Petunia sent me for Christmas (no complaints there). Of course, James thought it was funny, says he's going to be a great Quidditch player, but we've had to pack away all the ornaments and make sure we don't take our eyes off him when he gets going.

We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us, and who dotes on Harry. We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first, and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell - also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend, I thought he seemed down, but that was probably the news about the McKinnons; I cried all evening when I heard.

Bathilda drops in most days, she's a fascinating old thing with the most amazing stories about Dumbledore, I'm not sure he'd be pleased if he knew! I don't know how much to believe, actually, because it seems incredible that Dumbledore could ever have been friends with Gellert Grindelwald. I think her mind's going, personally!

Lots of love,

Lily'

'Mum,' he thought, a melancholy feeling overtaking his body. He gingerly traced his mother's signature, wondering how she would've felt when she wrote it. Was she scared of being attacked at any moment? Happy for the fond memories she did experience with their new family? The weight of the resurrection stone in his pocket seemed to artificially increase as he considered the possibilities. In the end he'd never know and perhaps that was for the best.

Harry rolled the parchment up again and handed it back to Sirius who gratefully accepted it. "I've told you once before, you were my first supporter, been there since the start," he gestured to the letter, "you've never failed me or them, Sirius, you've been failing yourself."

Sirius leaned forward into his godson as the two men embraced, it wasn't enough to just hear the words, but coming from Harry, that meant everything to Sirius. "I just need time Harry, I know what I have to do now."

"Good," Harry declared as he broke away for the hug, "you deserve better than the bottom of a bottle Sirius, without you none of this would've been possible." Harry could see his words had a visible effect on Sirius, a real aura of hope radiated off the man.

Harry clapped him on the back and silently indicated with his head for Sirius to follow him back inside. The two of them shared the rest of the evening together, with Harry allowing Sirius to tell stories from his youth, even listening to the ones he had already told with interest. Harry made sure not a single one of the drinks they consumed was alcoholic only tea and water was to be seen as Sirius tumbled word after word out of his mouth. It was late in the night when Sirius finally fell asleep from exhaustive story telling, but, despite the day's theme of loss, Harry went to bed with a smile on his face, happy to have helped Sirius on to a better path.

Yes, yes, burn him at the stake, The fool hasn't updated in ages, eons even, I know. I had assessments for my full time university, work for my full time job and I was working on something for this story adjacent to the actual writing.

As stated at the start of the chapter here is the link to my portfolio which currently is up to date on all things for this series including: series cover, maps, battle plans, explanations for the writing process and ai generated imagery. If you like what you see and want more stuff like it, then consider sending me a message through the contact page (I'm going to do more anyway, but I'd love to read your insights).

Link: revanchistvii. myportfolio / (no spaces - ff. net doesnt let you put links in.)

Now onto the analysis/reflection

The first part is to basically show that Harry's time in captivity hasn't come without consequence. Luna is dead, Neville is distraught and Harry is on a rigorous medical routine. It was also to remind myself and all of you guys, Harry is vividly scarred on his face and also suffers from memory loss in terms of the vampires. That will be touched on more as the story progresses.

Daphne and Astoria, I actually had this part written first but wanted to split up the two Harry POV's. I've gotten a lot of commentary on the morals and ethics of Daphne's decisions to get Harry back but they had zero influence on how this part of the story has gone. Daphne knowing what she did was horrible, but being okay with it anyway is very important and very different than thinking it was okay. It means she was willing to sacrifice herself and her reputation for Harry, someone who thinks what she did was okay wouldn't see it as a sacrifice.

I wanted to bring more nuance to Johanna's decision to remove Daphne from their vicinity as I don't think it's as straightforward as 'Johanna bad.' Both Daphne and Johanna are seeing the worst side of each other at the moment and I've tried to convey through Daphne's POV how they demonise each other when they're threatened. Johanna bringing stuff from home to make the war tent more cosy, being affectionate and a parent to Astoria aren't the marks of an evil woman. Nor is Daphne inherently evil, only she's capable of cruel things when it comes to saving those she cares about, just like her mother.

Sirius Black, oh how you vex me so. I saved the bloke, as you should do when writing an AU, but like many others before me, ran into the problem of what to do with him. I'm sure the story has reflected but I've just been beating the poor man down, depression, alcoholism, isolation but I finally have a clear heading for him which I'm happy to say starts now.

Sorry for the infrequent updates, no promises to change that in the future, I am a busy man.

Next chapter: They Who Dared

Hope y'all enjoyed :)