A/N: Howdy everyone! 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 29
December 30, 1996 (Castle Ravenclaw – Midday)
Harry sat in Rowena Ravenclaw's study, leaning back in his chair, feet propped on the desk, and slowly twirling his wand in the hand that did not hold the recently written letter he was reviewing.
"I still can't believe you convinced me to come back to Britain," Harry groused to the floating portraits of Salazar, Rowena and Arcturus while Fawkes chirruped happily from Harry's shoulder.
"Well, it wasn't fair that you saw Sal's ancient home and not mine!" Rowena exclaimed petulantly. "It was high time we visit Ravenclaw castle!"
"Sure – But did it have to be on Christmas day?" Harry deadpanned.
"It was the least likely time to be spotted," Salazar said smugly.
Harry rolled his eyes and took a glance around the study. Like nearly every room, it was covered with bookshelves that were filled to the brim with ancient tomes. He could feel the ancient magic running through the stones swirling around and caressing its recently recognized Lord Ravenclaw.
"Yeah, well, you two did nothing in halves, did you?" Harry observed with a chuckle.
"My wife is a showoff," Salazar nodded sagely.
Arcturus snorted and muttered a 'pot calling the kettle black' idiom.
"Frankly, I'm quite relieved we didn't encounter any cute and cuddly basilisks with a hankering to eat anything that moves," Harry said sarcastically.
"That level of crazed would only be prevalent in my idiot, darling husband," Rowena reminded Harry sweetly.
"Hey!" Salazar cried in protest.
"There were quite a few nasty traps though," Arcturus snorted. "Some of those would have been quite useful against invading armies."
"I especially enjoyed the one that sealed the room before it began filling with water," Salazar nodded. "Nothing like drowning to cause a panic."
"What part of Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure, did you not comprehend?" Rowena demanded. "As if I would leave such previous knowledge undefended and exposed?"
"I see the Hogwarts motto was aptly determined," Arcturus choked back a snicker.
"Never tickle a sleeping dragon," Salazar smirked. "I came up with that one after facing Helga and Rowena's ire."
"You never pranked us again though," Rowena said smugly.
Salazar shivered.
"It was worth the journey," Harry admitted with a sigh as he patted a thick book atop the desk he was currently seated at. "Who would have thought you had an ancient Peverell tome, Mama Claw?"
"Not to mention it is written in parseltongue," Salazar muttered bitterly.
"Not everyone broadcasts their secrets, Papa Sal," Harry teased.
Rowena laughed outright while Salazar pouted. Harry took several moments to finish reviewing his letter. After finding it satisfactory, he nodded at Fawkes, who snatched the letter in his claws and vanished in a flash of flame.
He lowered his feet and straightened before idly thrumming his fingers on the desk while still twirling his wand in thought. A small pop! echoed in the room. Harry didn't even flinch.
"Would Master Harry like lunch?" the diminutive house-elf questioned.
Harry forced a smile. "That would be brilliant, Dobby."
The elf smiled brightly but it faded rather swiftly. Dobby fidgeted nervously and hesitated until Harry addressed him once more.
"Everything okay?"
Dobby tugged on his ear, his tennis ball shaped eyes wide. "Dobby is Master Harry's friend."
Harry blinked. "Of course you're my friend, Dobby."
The house-elf took a deep breath. "Dobby was just wondering why Harry Potter Sir doesn't seem happy."
Harry cocked his head to the side curiously. "What makes you think I'm not happy? I'll admit I've been contemplative the last several days, but I'm still processing what I've learned."
Dobby shook his head, his ears flapping comically. "Dobby knows. Dobby is bonded to Master Harry. Harry Potter Sir is not happy." Tugging his ears nervously, Dobby looked down at the floor. "Dobby is sorry if he has spoken out of turn."
"No-" Harry choked out before clearing his throat. "You are always welcome to share your thoughts, my friend. Thank you."
Dobby bowed low. "Dobby will bring Master Harry's lunch." He vanished with a pop!
"Curious creatures, house-elves," Arcturus observed casually.
"They have a unique bond with magic that we could never hope to replicate," Rowena said coolly. "There is much we could learn from them."
"I never liked how they always seem to know things about those they bond with," Salazar grunted.
Harry hummed as he considered Dobby's words, not bothering to comment.
Not happy, huh? Harry thought. I wonder what Dobby is sensing that brought him to that conclusion. Sure, I'm a little lonely, what with some old portraits, a phoenix, and a house-elf to speak with regularly. Especially seeing as Fleur got that new job and I haven't seen her since my birthday.
"It's not like I can fault her for not writing for Christmas, considering she only is able to contact me when I send Fawkes to her…" he muttered softly as lunch appeared on his desk. Harry gratefully took a sandwich and chewed thoughtfully.
Not to mention the Curse Breaker Fleur is dating, Harry mused. I'm glad she found someone that suits her. Merlin knows it would never have worked if the two of us attempted something beyond friendship. Still, the playful flirting is always fun…
Harry swallowed, sighed, and took another bite. He liked Fleur, he really did. Harry had found, however, that he truly enjoyed the muggle world and what it had to offer. Having magic at your beck and call whilst living amongst them was almost like being one of those superheroes he saw in comic stores.
"What I need to find is a Witch who appreciates the muggle world as much as I do, and wouldn't mind living in it permanently," Harry declared after finishing his first sandwich half. "And someone who doesn't give a damn that I'm Harry Potter."
He snorted derisively. "I'd have better luck finding a unicorn foal in the Forbidden Forest."
The portraits stared at Harry with confused expressions. Unbidden, an image of sapphire blue eyes flickered across Harry's mind, causing him to nearly choke on his food.
"No!" Harry growled. "That was just the curse of the Potter family magic."
Was it? His conscience challenged.
"You know it was!" Harry snarled, slamming his fist on the desk.
Then why did you lie to Astoria? His conscience demanded.
"I suspected she wasn't in control of her actions," Harry defended. "Astoria merely confirmed those suspicions. Telling Tori 'I know' was not lying."
And yet you are so confident in your understanding of the Potter family magic?
Harry sighed and sagged back into his chair, wondering why he was debating with himself.
"No… I'm not confident in that at all."
Why not? So much knowledge at your fingertips, and yet you refuse to investigate.
"I've left that part of my life behind," Harry said stubbornly.
As if mocking his statement, an image of Daphne, wide-eyed, mouth agape, and with tears streaming down her cheeks, appeared in his mind. Harry flinched as if physically struck. He would never forget that moment, when his first friend showed such raw emotion at how he was treated by his relatives.
Yes, she had been scared and confused, having just been transported by a rogue house-elf. But when Harry withdrew the invisibility cloak, neither of those emotions were present in her gaze. It was only compassion and concern that she looked at him with.
It took several attempts, but Harry finally managed to clear his mind. Although he was shaking and sweating by the time he did.
Again unbidden, a secondary image of Daphne flared in his mind. She was sitting on his bed, tear tracks on her cheeks. The moonlight flooded his old room at 4 Privet Drive, causing Daphne's hair to practically glow. It was another moment Harry would never forget – when his very soul seemed to shiver at her beauty.
"That was just my family magic," Harry spat.
Are you sure?
Harry refused to answer.
She looked radiant…
"Yeah, she did," Harry admitted in a whisper before an idea came to him.
He stood suddenly, upending his chair.
"Care to share, my Heir?" Salazar questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Harry jumped upon hearing a voice that was not his own, suddenly aware he was not alone in the study.
"Just thinking…" Harry trailed off, surprised to find he had been sweating.
"About Daphne?" Rowena prodded.
Harry felt a surge of anger at the name but forced it back. He nodded tersely.
"You assert your feelings for Daphne were conjured by family magic?" Arcturus questioned, surprise lacing his tone.
"Are you suggesting that is nonsensical?" Harry countered.
Arcturus rubbed his chin in thought. "Can you brew love in a Potion, boy?"
Harry blinked. "No."
"Then why would you assert that any form of magic can conjure love?" Arcturus pressed.
Harry picked up his chair before turning and slumping heavily into it. He grunted in acknowledgement of the point Arcturus was making.
"Then why would my magic react whenever I attempted to pursue someone else?" Harry pondered aloud.
"That's a question we would need more data to answer," Rowena advised.
"Perhaps another visit to the Potter vault in Gringotts?" Arcturus prompted.
"Dobby," Harry called.
The house-elf appeared immediately. "Master Harry calls for Dobby?"
Harry grabbed a quill and parchment and began scribbling. "Can you please procure these ingredients?"
Dobby reviewed the list, gave a nod, and popped away. Harry sighed and began drumming his fingers on his desk.
"Perhaps a more thorough investigation of the Potter vault is in order," Harry admitted with a huff. "It will likely take time to get in contact with Khisanth…"
"Ah, yes, nothing like contacting a dragon that tried to kill you," Salazar chortled.
"She was being influenced by dark magic," Harry shrugged. "I'm sure she'll be much more amicable this time around."
"You still believe you need to speak with one of those beasts?" Arcturus asked in disbelief.
Harry tapped the Peverell book with his index finger and felt his magic hum with glee at the contact. "I do. If we want to find Peverell Castle, that is."
"And you didn't want to visit my ancient home," Rowena said smugly.
Dobby reappeared, a cauldron and several bags floating beside him. Harry thanked his friend with a smile as he set about transfiguring his chair into a table where he placed the cauldron Dobby procured. Once he had the ingredients unpacked and a fire lit beneath the cauldron, Dobby gave a bow and popped away.
"What in Merlin's name are you up to, boy?" Arcturus queried.
"Brewing amortentia," Harry replied casually.
"Ah," Rowena smiled. "You truly are a Ravenclaw, my dear."
Harry grinned as Rowena and Salazar both began suggesting techniques to quickly brew the potion. Roughly four hours later, Harry sagged back against the wall as a mother-of-pearl sheened potion bubbled within its cauldron.
Steam rose in characteristic spirals as the smell of strawberries and lemons permeated the air. A smell he would recognize anywhere. A smell he absolutely loved. Harry found himself breathing slowly and deeply as the fumes seemed to be filling him up like drink.
"Damn," Harry swore. "All this does is present more questions."
"Why?" Salazar barked.
"Use your brain, my love," Rowena scolded before turning back to Harry. "It smells like Daphne then?"
Harry closed his eyes and nodded.
"Curious," Arcturus hummed. "That implies your feelings are genuine. Seeing as how amortentia smells differently to each of according to what attracts us."
Harry's hand instinctively flexed, and the Elder Wand shot out from its hidden wrist holster.
"I need a minute," Harry said stiffly. He turned on his heel and left the study, making his way to the courtyard.
Along the way, Harry found himself confused at this recent revelation. That confusion led to frustration, seeing as how he thought his feelings for Daphne resolved and buried. That frustration was the source of the current surge of magic within himself threatening to break free.
Not helping was the ancient magic that saturated the very stones Harry stood upon, and his own impressive reserves of magic from his core. Finally feeling the chilly winter air, Harry raised his wand and vented his confusion, anger, and irritation in a spectacular display of lights, followed by a cacophony of booms.
Panting heavily, sweat lining his clothes, and hands shaking, Harry admitted he felt much better. It had been a while since he'd had an emotional outburst. He probably should have contemplated raising the air temperature in Pembrokeshire a good ten degrees Celsius, but Harry found he just didn't care.
The ugly looking clouds that were rapidly forming, however, did cause Harry to balk. Maybe it would be wise to not agitate Mother Nature in the future. Harry pondered how best to dispel lightning storms when there was a bright orange flash, followed by a significant crack!
Harry shielded his eyes and blinked several times once the light ebbed. There was a semi-familiar screech that sounded more like a thunderclap to Harry. He blanched and looked up to see Fawkes flitting around a gigantic avian that Harry instantly recognized from his adventure in Arizona.
"How the bloody hell did you bring a Thunderbird here?!" Harry shouted.
Fawkes let out a chirruping that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
"Don't you sass me!" Harry scolded. "Never mind my first question! Why did you bring that bird here?"
Fawkes squawked.
"I don't care if you missed your playmate!" Harry shouted, incensed. "How are we supposed to hide that thing? Look at it!"
The thunderbird appeared offended, and its wings flashed with a white light as the clouds began to churn.
"Uh oh," Harry gawked before shaking his head and steeling his expression. "Don't you do it!"
The thunderbird shrieked several times, and Harry just knew it was mocking him.
"Fawkes!" Harry barked. "You take that bird back to America this instant!"
Fawkes screeched and then did the one thing Harry hoped he wouldn't do.
He combusted.
Harry, being the good friend that he was, sprinted forward as the baby phoenix futilely flapped his underdeveloped wings while he plummeted from the sky. Wand in hand, Harry managed to slow the phoenix's descent with a Wingardium Leviosa, before gently catching the bird in his palms.
Fawkes appeared quite pleased with himself.
Harry poked the baby phoenix, causing it to squawk dramatically. "We are so discussing this later!" Harry warned.
A bright flash of lightning and a booming clap of thunder were the only warnings Harry received before a deluge of rain fell atop Castle Ravenclaw. Harry may as well have had a lake dumped on him.
"Merlin give me strength!" Harry ground out as he placed a thoroughly soaked Fawkes atop his shoulder.
The baby phoenix made his displeasure known.
"Oh, you're going to sit there and enjoy this lovely weather while I try and figure out what to do with your buddy!" Harry snarked. He glanced up at the heavens and rolled his eyes. "Who seems to be enjoying himself immensely!"
The thunderbird was currently lazily flapping its wings as it flew in circles. The sky, which had commenced a dangerous spiral, slowed its rotation.
"Oi! Sparky!" Harry bellowed.
The thunderbird answered with a resounding shriek.
"What is it with magical birds and attitudes?" Harry grumbled under his breath. He cast a silent Sonorous on himself. "Yes, that's your new name – Sparky! Now, get down here before muggle storm chasers come to investigate. Or worse, the British Ministry!"
'Sparky' landed with a thud that shook the ground so heavily it nearly knocked Harry from his feet. The thunderbird then proceeded to read the avian riot act to Fawkes, who, despite being a baby, gave as good as he got. Harry, not understanding a word of the exchange, still managed to get the general gist of the argument.
"You didn't tell Sparky you were taking him on an international escapade, did you?" Harry prodded Fawkes.
Sparky appeared to agree with this assessment.
"And you didn't think to ask!" Harry smacked a nearby feather that was bigger than he was. Sparky wasn't impressed.
Fawkes was quite pleased Harry was taking his side.
"I suppose since you're here, we should probably go for a flight, yeah?" Harry did his best to hide his grin.
Both thunderbird and baby phoenix thought that a wonderful compromise.
"Then I'm going to discuss with Dobby exactly how much magic we're going to need to elf-apparate you back to America," Harry patted the same feather he had smacked and then snapped his fingers. "Now, lean down so I can climb up!"
Sparky complied and Harry was soon amongst the thunderclouds, reveling once more in the raw power of nature, laced with both Sparky's and his own magic.
"Okay, maybe this wasn't such a bad idea," Harry admitted to baby Fawkes who was doing his best to look contrite.
Fawkes chirped. Harry wasn't sure if it was possible for a baby phoenix to look smug, but Fawkes was doing a good job of it.
-GU-
January 7, 1997 (Hogwarts – Evening)
"Daffy, can we talk?" Astoria asked as she plopped down next to her older sister at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. It was currently dinner time, and Astoria had just returned from a lengthy quidditch practice.
Daphne nodded, still chewing, although she was acutely aware of the various glowers in her direction from students who thought they were being stealthy. She did her best to ignore them, but their animosity still stung.
"Not here," Astoria whispered.
"Okay, Tori," Daphne said after swallowing.
She stood and followed her younger sister toward some abandoned classrooms. Once inside, Daphne set about casting the necessary privacy charms and wards until she took a seat at a dust-covered desk. Astoria began pacing nervously as Sasha slithered off the girl's shoulders and curled up in a corner of the room.
"I know about the Greengrass estate," Astoria finally admitted, causing Daphne to gasp. "Why did you tell mum to stop fighting for you?"
"You weren't supposed to know!" Daphne said harshly as angry tears formed in her eyes. "Why did mum tell you?!"
"She didn't!" Astoria assured hurriedly. "I- um, I sort of- uh, read the letter before she sent it…"
Daphne blinked, sending several tears down her cheeks. "Of course, you did."
"You didn't answer my question, Daffy," Astoria whispered timidly.
Daphne stiffened, her expression hardening. "It doesn't matter why," she finally said coldly.
"Daph, I don't care about our family money," Astoria assured worriedly. "I just want you to be okay."
"Yeah," Daphne choked back a sob. "Well, I'm fine, Tori."
Astoria hurriedly embraced her older sister, her own voice watery. "No, you're not, Daffy. All you do is study, work with Tonks, and sift through those trial files."
Daphne sobbed and laughed at the same time, nearly choking. "What else am I supposed to do?" she demanded. "Rita Skeeter keeps printing those articles and everyone looks at me like I'm a pariah. I don't want mum to bankrupt our family trying to fight a losing battle!"
Astoria frowned, finding it hard to refute Daphne's assertion. She had enough wherewithal to connect the Ministry had endless pockets, whereas the Greengrass estate did not.
"Why did Harry give you the letter?" Daphne questioned. The sudden topic shift startled Astoria, who looked at her older sister with confusion.
"Huh?"
Daphne fumbled around her robe pockets before finally pulling out a crumpled, tear-stained letter and slamming it down on the desk. She stood and stepped back from the desk, gesturing for Astoria to investigate. Curious, Astoria tentatively reached out and took it, quickly realizing it was the letter Daphne wrote to Harry asking him to save Astoria.
"Daph, you wrote this when you were eight…"
"If you heal Astoria, I will give you anything you ask for. If I don't have it, I'll work for the rest of my life to obtain it," Daphne quoted, ignoring the fact that Astoria had made the exact same statement as Andromeda on Christmas day.
"I doubt Harry wants anything from you…" Astoria trailed off.
"Then why did he give you the letter?" Daphne demanded. "Did he say anything to you?"
"I…" Astoria shrugged and sighed heavily. "I don't know. No. He only told me to tell you to get help. That's all."
Daphne nodded, as if anticipating that response. "When I find him, I'll give him my binder, so he can understand exactly what was real between us and what was…" Daphne swallowed heavily. "…not real."
Astoria stared forlornly at her older sister.
"Then I'll ask him what he wants for healing you," Daphne's lower lip quivered as her composure threatened to shatter. "And if he doesn't forgive me, if he yells at me, or even if he hurts me, that's okay."
"Daph-" Astoria began.
"No!" Daphne cut off her sister. "I won't break any more promises, Tori! You told me to live, and that's what I've been doing."
Astoria looked at Daphne with sorrow in her eyes. "You still love him."
"It doesn't matter," Daphne said stubbornly. "I owe him a debt and an explanation."
Astoria sighed.
"I'm going to become an auror, and I'll support you and mum," Daphne continued. "That's why I have been studying so hard, Tori. I don't want what I did to be a burden on you or mum…"
"Daphne!" Astoria cried in exasperation. "You are not a burden! None of what happened was your fault!"
Daphne fell quiet and silently sobbed.
"Morgana's tits, Daph!" Astoria swore. "Why can't you just accept that you weren't at fault?"
"Because I was…" Daphne said in a voice barely above a whisper.
She left without another word, leaving a dumbfounded Astoria. Slowly, Astoria turned to Sasha who had watched the entire exchange. The basilisk slowly slithered forward and up Astoria's leg until she resumed her normal post atop Astoria's shoulder. Absently, Astoria stroked Sasha's snout, eliciting a purr.
"I really hope it's going to be okay," Astoria whispered to Sasha.
-GU-
January 8, 1997 (Hogwarts – Evening)
Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk waiting for her guest to arrive. Exactly at 8pm, the floo flared and Amelia Bones, current Minister of Magic, stepped out of the fireplace.
"Amy," Minerva greeted with a smile.
"Minnie," Amelia nodded before slumping into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh.
"You look tired," Minerva quipped with a teasing smirk.
"Look who's talking," Amelia snorted. "I miss the easy days when I was simply the head of the DMLE."
"I can relate," Minera gave an understanding nod.
"Well, what can I do for you, Headmistress?" Amelia stood and poured herself a cup of tea.
"I wanted to discuss the Daily Prophet," Minerva said stiffly, causing Amelia's cup to pause halfway to her mouth. She blinked before taking a sip and exhaling contentedly.
"What about it?" Amelia finally asked, already guessing where this was going.
"Explain to me why the Ministry seems hellbent on blaming a sixteen-year-old girl for the current state of affairs!" Minerva demanded.
"The Daily Prophet is a gossip piece, Minnie, you know that."
Minerva's nostrils flared. "I would have thought our relationship past placations and lies!"
Amelia growled and set her teacup down forcefully, leaning forward so quickly her monocle fell off and dangled from its chain. "What would you like me to do, Minerva?"
"Make Rita Skeeter stop reporting such tripe about the poor girl," Minerva said immediately.
"I can't," Amelia countered with a shake of her head.
"And why in Morgana's name not?"
"Come on, Minerva!" Amelia groaned. "You know why! The Ministry is in shambles. The economy is barely hanging on by a thread. When we threw a third of the Wizengamot through the Veil we failed to realize that roughly eighty percent of our economy was controlled by those people!"
Minerva slumped back in her chair, visibly shaken.
"The corruption within Fudge's organization was staggering," Amelia continued. "The Goblins haven't helped the situation with how they're citing ancient treaties and agreements to carve out their own slice of the vacated wealth from those sentenced to the Veil."
Minerva scowled.
"I don't like it any more than you do," Amelia matched Minerva's expression. "The Daily Prophet is necessary, Minnie. The Ministry makes money from its sales – good money. Clean money."
"And no one sells papers quite like Rita Skeeter," Minerva spat out.
Amelia winced. "I wish that weren't true. But Rita is the reason the Daily Prophet sells so wonderfully."
"And nothing sells quite like a relationship gone bad, and the prospect of allowing a reader to assign blame for all of their perceived woes," Minerva said venomously. "Has the Ministry no soul, Amelia?"
"I suppose that depends on perspective," Amelia said thoughtfully before huffing. "There's nothing that can be done, Minnie. The Ministry is not restraining Rita Skeeter."
"I hope the Ministry is prepared to face the consequences of this decision," Minerva said. "Magic will not see this injustice go unpunished."
"Daphne Greengrass is currently keeping our economy afloat," Amelia shrugged. "It's regrettable that her reputation is forever sullied, but that is just as much Harry Potter's fault as it is the Ministry's."
Minerva flinched.
"I stand by my promise, Minerva," Amelia stood to leave. "Daphne has a job in the DMLE waiting for her as soon as she applies. So long as I am Minister, I will ensure that she is as well-taken care of as I can, seeing as how much of a burden she is being forced to carry."
"The same burden Harry Potter is still expected to carry," Minerva scoffed.
"What do you want me to say?" Amelia asked as she grabbed a pinch of floo powder. "Our world is fucked up."
Amelia didn't look back as she disappeared through the floo.
-GU-
February 11, 1997 (Gringotts – Potter Family Vault – Midday)
Harry Potter stood next to a large, conjured table, looking down at two tomes which were open and side by side. He hummed as the portraits of Salazar, Arcturus, and Rowena hovered nearby while Fawkes preened himself while perched on the corner of the table.
"Let's review it again, dear," Rowena encouraged.
Harry groaned. "We've gone over this a half dozen times, Mama Claw!"
"Trial and error," Rowena waved away Harry's complaints.
"Eventually one connects the dots," Salazar agreed.
Arcturus remained uncharacteristically silent, deep in thought.
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. "Based on my father's journal, and what resources we've located regarding Potter family magic, it's safe to say that the Potter family magic, at its core, amplifies love."
"Which aligns with and supports our understanding that magic cannot create love," Rowena nodded.
Harry snorted. "Combined with what I smell when encountering amortentia…"
"Your feelings for the Greengrass girl were not manufactured," Salazar finished.
Harry flinched as if struck. "As painful as that is to accept…" He trailed off before sighing heavily. "It does nothing to explain my apparent obsession with Daphne." Harry gestured weakly at the two books before him. "From what I've read, I should be free to love whom I please. There is no mention of negative reactions when pursuing other women."
"We have an abnormality then," Rowena held up a finger.
"Obsession," Harry grunted.
"Charlus never came across as obsessed with Dorea," Arcturus said slowly.
"And dad openly admits to having chased a few girls secretly while pining after mum," Harry pointed at his father's journal. "I don't think even Sirius knew about that. He never once mentioned feeling ill or having physical reactions when wanting to date other girls."
The gentle singing of Fawkes broke the contemplative silence that followed.
"I know I did something to break whatever 'control'," he air quoted with both hands, "my family magic had over me. My ability to flirt and attempt to pursue Fleur was proof enough of that."
"Meaning your love is no longer amplified?" Salazar questioned.
Harry shrugged. "That's how I interpret it."
"Which would indicate you have been left with genuine emotions and feelings," Rowena observed. "Meaning-"
"Yeah," Harry cut off Rowena. "Let's not go there. Our focus should be on determining what went wrong, and how."
Arcturus frowned. "I'm still puzzled on what advantage the amplification of love provides. Frankly, this seems more a curse than a blessing."
"True," Harry chuckled darkly. "And I'm inclined to agree with you, Grandpa Black." Harry cracked his neck and pulled two thick tomes from a nearby side table. "I can only think of a singular instance where love can power a spell."
"The Patronus Charm," Arcturus nodded. "Although it is better understood that positive emotion is what powers the spell."
"These two, as you know, are from Castle Ravenclaw," Harry indicated the held tomes. "One is a comprehensive listing on everything known on-"
"Dementors and Phoenixes," Rowena interjected. "We know."
"Just as we know and agree that there has never been an instance where a dementor has been killed by a Patronus," Salazar affirmed.
"But we also know that there has never been an instance where a phoenix has magically enhanced a spell, especially a Patronus," Arcturus added.
"Yet I know that Fawkes was, at the minimum, sharing his magic with me during those times I cast an amplified Patronus," Harry scratched the back of his neck after setting down the two tomes.
"The only thing I can conclude is that the Potter family magic was engaged by using a memory of Daphne to power my Patronus. With my core still adjusting to the removed inhibitors, Fawkes provided the additional magical power necessary to ensure the Patronus did its job eliminating the dementors."
Harry strode over to Fawkes and gently stroked the phoenix's plumage, a sudden idea coming to him. "You know… This aligns with the prophecy that is now defunct," Harry stared absently in the distance, his mind racing. "A power he knows not. Dumbledore always touted the power of love, didn't he?"
"Potter family magic amplifies love," Arcturus hummed. "Interesting…"
"It almost seems as if Dumbledore was hinting that he knew about the Potter family magic."
"Potter…" Harry said the word as if tasting it for the first time. "…Or Peverell?"
"A question perhaps answered once we obtain access to Castle Peverell," Salazar said while stroking his beard.
"In my haste to break whatever chains bound me, I failed to connect that how my father's journal explained the Potter family magic was fundamentally not the same thing that happened to me," Harry sunk into a hair and rubbed his forehead wearily.
"Are you inferring that Albus Dumbledore somehow interfered with your family magic?" Arcturus raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I know the man was touted as the second coming of Merlin, but that's a bit much even for him!"
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "It seems impossible." He glanced over at Rowena. "Mama Claw, if you were going to attempt to alter or change someone's family magic, where would you begin?"
"Theoretically, it would start with blood magic," she shivered. "A magic I never delved into."
"I may be able to offer input," Salazar admitted sheepishly. "I did experiment with blood magic in my younger years, namely rituals."
"Same question then, Papa Sal," Harry gestured at the portrait.
"It's simple, really," Salazar said softly. "Blood magic would not be the answer."
"Truly, Sal?" Rowena asked, surprised. "Family magic is directly tied to the blood. It should be the only answer."
"When a Wizard or Witch delves into blood magic, it is only with the use of their own, personal blood," Salazar explained patiently. "Rituals are a perfect example of this. One uses their own blood to empower the ritual. Using the blood of another Wizard or Witch and not your own would cause a catastrophic failure."
"So, I couldn't use a friend's blood to cast blood magic?" Harry questioned.
"Correct," Salazar nodded. "Think of the Blood Curse your friend suffered from. The origin of the curse was an opposing family member using their own blood to place the curse on the Greengrass bloodline."
Harry's heart throbbed painfully at the thought of Astoria. He was suddenly, acutely aware of how much he missed his best friend.
And Sasha for that matter… Harry admitted with a glance at Fawkes from the corner of his eye. Although it has been rather nice not having those two fighting every half hour.
"What about blood wards?" Harry questioned.
"The same principle applies," Salazar shrugged. "One empowers the wards with their own blood."
Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore cast blood wards that affected me," he pointed out. "I was one year old."
Salazar gawked and Rowena looked thoughtful.
"Back to square one then," Arcturus quipped thoughtfully.
Harry flicked his wrist and caught the Elder Wand as it shot out of its holster, absently twirling it in his hand. It was becoming an almost automatic action when he was deep in thought. The feel of the Elder Wand always sent a borderline electric thrum of pleasant energy coursing up his arm.
Harry's eyes snapped toward the wand, widening as his mind began to click pieces in place.
"What if Dumbledore had an artifact directly tied to my bloodline?" Harry asked out loud. "What if said artifact was rumored to have been created by Death himself. An unbeatable wand of near limitless potential?"
"Theoretically, I don't see why it wouldn't allow for one to use the associated bloodline in their spells," Salazar admitted. "Although I never tested such a theory."
"Yet I am living proof that a meddling Wizard used my blood to erect wards," Harry said. "The only logical conclusion is that the Elder Wand enabled him to do so."
"It is tied to your blood," Rowena agreed. "We know that from how you called it to you."
Harry shuddered. That had been a major gamble – One he was thankful had paid off. Harry wasn't too proud to admit that they would have been scraping his remains off the Great Hall floor should his stunt have failed. Even with the power of Hogwarts at his beck and call, Dumbledore with the Elder Wand was beyond Harry's abilities.
"Could such an artifact truly be that powerful?" Arcturus murmured in awe as he gazed at the Elder Wand in Harry's hand.
Harry nodded. The Elder Wand was truly formidable. What limited magic Harry had already performed was more than enough to secure that understanding within him.
"It always comes back to Dumbledore," Harry sighed and shook his head. "I would venture a guess that he intended to control who I loved, and thus attempted to modify my family magic."
"Which forced an unnatural reaction in your obsession with Daphne," Rowena nodded. "A safe hypothesis."
"But my initial feelings and emotions were still my own," Harry muttered before irritably standing and pacing.
It didn't set well with him, knowing that he still, deep down, loved Daphne. Was that what Dobby meant when he said Harry wasn't happy? By suppressing his feelings, was he futilely attempting to deny that, deep down in his core, he knew Daphne was innocent?
Thoughts of how different events could have turned out if Dumbledore had not taken the approach he had raged through Harry, causing his magic to flare violently. His grip on the Elder Wand tightened and Harry grit his teeth in frustration.
"We've found the answers we sought," Harry ground his teeth. "It's time to go home, and never come back to this Gods-forsaken country."
As if on cue, Fawkes flapped his wings and landed on Harry's shoulder. Harry called Dobby to collect the portraits, and the group vanished shortly after in a flash of phoenix fire.
-GU-
March 3, 1997 (Hogwarts – Morning)
Daphne sat alone at the end of the Slytherin table, as usual, slowly eating breakfast. She winced as she moved her arm, still tender from recently splinching herself during apparation lessons with Tonks. Despite having lost a portion of her arm, Daphne had been determined to continue.
Tonks had praised her determination while simultaneously chastising her stupidity.
The result was all that mattered to Daphne though, and she was now able to apparate successfully.
Astoria plopped down with a soft smile. "Good morning, Daph."
"Good morning, Tori."
Things had been strained a few days after their last private conversation in January, but they had quickly returned to somewhat normal. Astoria was concerned with Daphne's mental state, and Daphne had dived even deeper into her studies and research. Rather than argue or fight with Daphne, Astoria had resigned herself to doing everything she could to support her older sister, who she knew was still hurting deeply.
"Find anything interesting recently?" Astoria asked, hoping to spark a conversation.
Daphne paused with a spoonful of eggs halfway to her mouth. "I was going through the Daily Prophet articles I've been saving and found an interesting article around last Christmas."
"Oh?" Astoria began loading a plate.
"Magizoologists believe a thunderbird appeared somewhere in Pembrokeshire," Daphne expounded.
Astoria quirked her head, a bemused expression on her face. "But don't they like arid climates and are commonly found in the United States?"
"They do," Daphne said around a mouthful of eggs. "And they are usually found in the United States."
"That's neat, I suppose." Astoria shrugged and focused on her breakfast. "I still don't know why you keep those Daily Prophet articles, Daffy."
"I have my reasons," Daphne countered immediately.
Astoria sighed and let the conversation die. Whatever 'reasons' Daphne had were completely lost on the girl, and Astoria didn't want to get Daphne's hackles raised by challenging her older sister's sanity in keeping papers that served no purpose other than to speculate and imply Daphne was the source of Wizarding Britain's problems.
They sure do sell like cauldron cakes though, Astoria begrudgingly admitted to herself. Morgana save Rita Skeeter if I ever get my hands on her. Sasha has been itching to kill someone and I have no doubt she'd take great pleasure in ending Rita Skeeter's miserable existence.
A fluttering of wings above drew their attention to the daily Owl Post deliveries. Astoria quickly took a copy of the Daily Prophet after paying the delivery owl and began reading. Daphne waited patiently, knowing Astoria would report anything important. There was a sharp intake of breath.
"Head of DMLE killed by Voldemort, along with six aurors," Astoria whispered in horror, her eyes wide.
"Rufus Scrimgeour?" Daphne gasped. "He's dead?"
Astoria nodded somberly as she continued to read out loud. "It's thought that Voldemort attacked unprovoked during a routine Knockturn Alley patrol. While unusual for the Head of the DMLE to join in those, Scrimgeour has always been a hands-on leader and would never ask his people to do something he wouldn't do himself."
Astoria gritted her teeth and slammed the paper down, causing Sasha to hiss and bare her fangs.
Maybe I should attempt to command Sasha to just go murder the bint, Astoria thought violently. Although the Ministry would be able to easily trace it back to me, seeing as how I'm like the only person in the world with a pet basilisk. But wouldn't it technically be Harry's fault since Sasha is his familiar? Oh! I know!
"Sasha, I give you full permission to eat Rita Skeeter if you ever see her!" Astoria growled.
Hah! Now I can play innocent and simply state that Rita must have threatened or agitated Sasha, Astoria preened internally.
Sasha purred, clearly pleased. Meanwhile, Daphne had acquired the paper and was reading it for herself, learning that John Dawlish had been appointed the new Head of the DMLE.
"I don't get it," Astoria sighed. "I thought Voldemort was supposed to be weaker after whatever it was Croaker did?"
"He is," Daphne said distractedly. "I think most are forgetting that he was an extremely gifted Wizard even before the horcruxes."
"Yeah…" Astoria trailed off. "I wonder why he attacked them in such a public setting?"
"He's crazed," Daphne muttered as she read the Skeeter article lambasting her and, once more, bemoaning that Harry Potter was not in Britain. "Didn't Croaker say that the more horcruxes you make the crazier you get? He's lost most of his magical power and his Death Eaters."
"Good point," Astoria quipped before frowning as she watched Daphne fold the Skeeter article in half and pocket it. "Seriously, Daph… Why are you keeping those?"
Coming to a decision, Daphne stood, leaving behind her unfinished breakfast. "It doesn't matter, Tori. I'm going to speak with the Headmistress."
"Is- Is everything okay?" Astoria asked worriedly.
Daphne gave a fake smile, her eyes betraying her true hurt, and nodded. "I'm fine, Tori. Thank you for asking."
Astoria hesitated, then stood and threw her arms around her older sister. "I love you, Daffy. You know that, right?"
"Of course, I do," Daphne assured, returning the hug. "I love you too, Tori," she whispered in a watery voice before detaching and leaving her baby sister standing with a perplexed expression, while Sasha observed them with half-lidded eyes.
As Daphne departed, she was easily noticed of the dark looks being sent her way. Several people instinctively reached for their wand as she passed by. Daphne was grateful for all the hard work Tonks forced her to do during training, because she had no doubt that she could defend herself should someone let their emotions get the better of them.
Thankfully, she made it unscathed to the seventh floor, although her resolve had only been strengthened seeing the student reaction to her presence. She entered Minerva's office after giving the password to the gargoyle and took a seat.
"Daphne," Minerva sighed. "I expected to see you after the Daily Prophet this morning. Are you okay, dear?"
"Yes, Minerva," Daphne forced a smile, and they both knew she was lying through her teeth. "I actually came to discuss my education."
"Oh?" Minerva raised an eyebrow.
"I would like to take my NEWTS early," Daphne said. "I think it best if I test out of Hogwarts and move on with my life. I'll be seventeen before next term, so I should encounter no issues getting a job regarding my age or grades."
"Assuming I pass, that is," she added.
"Are you sure that is the path you want to take, Daphne?" Minerva asked slowly. "You know that we will not allow anything to happen to you while you are here."
"I understand, but I'd prefer to move along," Daphne said in a firm tone, but a slight quaver betrayed her trepidation. "I promise I'll study extra hard and get an Outstanding on each of my NEWTS."
"Daphne," Minerva deadpanned. "I have utmost confidence you would get an O+ on every examination you took. You are currently grading OWL paperwork and below for several of us."
"Then you'll let me test early?" Daphne pressed.
Minerva closed her eyes and nodded stiffly. While she wasn't fully in support of the idea, feeling Daphne would benefit far more from being monitored at Hogwarts, Minerva also knew that she had no real reason to hold Daphne back from her dreams of becoming an Auror.
"You can test with the seventh years," Minerva whispered, a sad smile on her face. "I am sure you will do wonderfully, Daphne."
"Thank you!" Daphne bounded around the desk and hugged the older woman with all her might. "Thank you! Thank you!"
"You're welcome," Minerva chuckled, her eyes misting. "Will you at least explain what is motivating this?"
"Rita will keep writing about me regardless of where I go," Daphne said in a somber tone. "If I'm going to continue being attacked by the Daily Prophet, and by proxy dragging my family's name through the muck, then I'd rather be contributing and doing some good in the world."
Daphne took a steadying breath. "As an auror, I can work to ensure that nothing like this ever happens again. Hopefully, there won't ever be another Daphne Greengrass or Harry Potter. At the same time, I can support mum and Tori with my excess income."
"I take it you will live with Andi then?" Minerva questioned.
Daphne shook her head.
"You are always welcome in my home, Daphne," Minerva assured.
"No, I don't want to be a burden on anyone," Daphne whispered. "When I become an auror, I'll make plenty to take care of myself. I don't need much anyway. I'll make sure I minimize my living expenses so mum and Tori can have access to the majority of what I make."
"You understand that no one expects you to do this?" Minerva asked.
"I know," Daphne said softly. "But I need to do this, Minerva. It may not make sense." She barked out a watery laugh. "It doesn't make much sense to me either, but I know this is what I need to do to begin taking back control of my own life."
Minerva sighed and gave a soft, sympathetic smile. "I will support you however I can then, Daphne."
"Thank you again, Minerva," Daphne choked back a sob. "I don't know where I would be without you."
Minerva's eyes watered and she swiped at them agitatedly before firmly hugging her favorite student and attempting to squeeze the life out of her. Daphne sighed happily in the comforting embrace, a few stray tears falling into Minerva's robes.
"Oh, but you will be the one to tell Astoria," Minerva teased playfully.
Daphne groaned.