Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R!

This story is a collaboration work between Avoranger and Cal the Wandcrafter!

Hope you like it!

Enjoy!

Let's join Harry/Daphne Discord!

discord gg/pKSdvJQvhU

A/N:

- This chapter has been get a little fixed!

- New edition for chapter 1 now available! Reread as you please! Enjoy!


Number 12 Grimmauld Place lay shrouded in an eerie stillness, the very air thick with an unsettling silence that clung to the ancient walls. Harry Potter, his footsteps muffled by the magic he wielded, emerged from his quarters, his eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway. His task to locate the elusive Kreacher, would most likely involve a major headache by the time he was done, but he was determined to start his Horcrux hunt as early as he could. With measured steps, Harry advanced towards the one place that held significance for the house-elf above all others. Within the confines of Regulus's chamber, he discovered Kreacher engrossed in a murmured chant of profanities, his gnarled hands tenderly tending to the faded portraits that adorned the walls. Silently, like a wraith in the night, Harry slipped into the room, softly shutting the door behind him. He assumed the role of a silent sentinel, waiting patiently for the ancient elf to acknowledge his presence, a moment that did not take long to arrive. The room seemed to descend into an almost eerie silence as Kreacher's incessant mutterings gradually subsided, and he slowly turned to face Harry.

"You despicable half-blood! What audacity brings you to the sacred sanctum of noble Regulus?" Kreacher's voice erupted with contempt, his words dripping with disdain. "Do you seek to pilfer my master's cherished possessions, you filthy thief?" The elf's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of intruders.

Unfazed by Kreacher's vehement outburst, Harry had expertly cast a potent silencing charm before entering, rendering the room impervious to sound. He was prepared to defend himself against any potential assault.

"Calm yourself, Kreacher. I have no intention of harming Regulus's belongings," Harry's voice remained composed, his hands raised in a pacifying gesture. But suddenly, as if propelled by a surge of untamed energy, Kreacher lunged at him, hurling objects in his direction.

"Kreacher!" Harry's reflexes kicked into high gear, enabling him to deftly evade the projectiles hurtling towards him. He manoeuvred swiftly through the chamber, skillfully evading Kreacher's relentless assault, his mounting irritation becoming tangible. "Kreacher!" Harry's voice rang out, deflecting the debris with a flick of his wand. "I can help you fulfil Regulus's final wish! I know about the locket!" The declaration caught Kreacher's attention, halting his frenzied attack. The old elf's eyes widened in astonishment at Harry's words.

"How could the wretched half-blood possess knowledge of what his master, the noble Regulus, required of him?" Suspicion brimmed in Kreacher's narrowed gaze. "I have tried countless times, exploring every conceivable method to destroy it, but to no avail," Kreacher muttered under his breath, his mind awash with questions. "A house-elf who fails to fulfil their master's wishes is a disgraceful failure."

As Kreacher bemoaned his plight, his head thudded against the floor in frustration, causing Harry to wince in sympathy. The torment etched on the elf's weathered face tugged at Harry's heart, momentarily eclipsing his own frustrations with a surge of empathy.

"Kreacher has disappointed his master!" the elf wailed, tears streaming down his worn cheeks. "Kreacher must punish himself for his failure!"

Taken aback by the sudden shift in Kreacher's demeanour, Harry observed the elf's transformation from anger and suspicion to self-loathing and despair. It was disconcerting to witness, even though he had seen Kreacher react this way once before, it was still distressing to see, contrasted with the kinder and somewhat amiable Kreacher he knew from the future.

Slowly, Harry approached Kreacher, who was still curled up on the floor, and reached out to touch the elf's fragile frame.

"I know how to destroy it, Kreacher," Harry said softly, his voice full of conviction. "I can help you fulfil Regulus's final request."

Kreacher looked up at Harry with a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Could this really be true? Could the blood traitor really know how to do what Kreacher has failed to do for so long? Is it true? Can this filthy half-blood truly destroy it?" The house elf asked, his eyes filled with a newfound hope.

"Yes, Kreacher. I can do it. You'll see for yourself when I destroy it," Harry assured him with a chuckle.

Kreacher's face lit up with excitement. "Now?" he asked eagerly.

Harry's smile faded as he shook his head. "No, Kreacher. I don't have what I need to destroy it at the moment. I have to get some supplies from Hogwarts first."

Kreacher's expression fell, and he looked crestfallen. "But how will you destroy it?" he asked, his voice trembling with anxiety.

"Don't worry, I have a plan for it," Harry replied confidently. "I'll go back to Hogwarts and get what I need. Just like I promised, you'll see for yourself when I destroy it."

Kreacher hesitated for a moment before nodding his agreement. "Very well," he said, his voice still full of doubt. "But how can I be sure that you'll keep your promise?"

Harry's face grew serious as he looked at Kreacher. "You have my word, Kreacher. I won't rest until I've fulfilled Regulus's final wish. I know how important this is to you, and I won't let you down."

Kreacher looked at Harry for a long moment, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and doubt. But then he slowly nodded, and Harry knew that he had won the old elf's trust. "Kreacher," Harry addressed the old house-elf, "may I see the locket?" Kreacher snapped his fingers, and with a swish, a very familiar locket flew out of one of the glass cabinets in the room and hovered in front of Harry. He felt the locket's malevolent influence even before he touched it. Harry frowned, contemplating how to keep it safe while in his possession. He didn't want to be ensnared by the locket's dark magic again. He glanced at Kreacher, who was staring at him expectantly.

"Kreacher," said Harry, in a serious tone. "I need you to safeguard it for me until I call for you from Hogwarts. Can you do that?"

"Kreacher can do it!" the elf replied with a bow.

"Excellent. Thank you, Kreacher. Make sure no one but you and I know about this," Harry instructed. With another snap of Kreacher's fingers, the locket returned to its resting place in the cabinet.

Exiting the room of Regulus Black, Harry was startled to see Tonks waiting for him in the doorway, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. He tried to hide his surprise and fear, determined to maintain his composure.

"Tonks, you're not asleep yet?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he shut the door behind him.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, studying him closely. "Sneaking into an empty room in the middle of the night, Harry?" Tonks chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "What are you doing here, Harry? Stalking me, perhaps? Sirius acting like a dog has rubbed off on you, I see."

"I couldn't sleep," Harry said quickly, his mind racing for an excuse. "I was just checking out the empty rooms. This place has so many of them, you know?"

"Ah, looking for a place to snog Granger, then? Or maybe you were looking for little ole me, all alone up here." Harry laughed, the tension easing from his body, as she morphed her lips into an oversized caricature of a cartoon kissing face.

Tonks grinned, then playfully put Harry in a headlock. He struggled, but couldn't help but join in her laughter.

"Tonks! Tonks, please," Harry gasped, trying to catch his breath amidst his laughter. "You'll wake up the whole house!"

Tonks released her grip on his neck, and Harry rubbed at the spot where she had been squeezing. "Watch your words, young man," she scolded him, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "You don't want someone to wake up and get the wrong idea!" Her eyes twinkled in a very Dumbledore-esq way, much to his disbelief.

"Well, one of us has to act like an adult here," Harry replied, grinning. But Tonks only rolled her eyes in response. "You haven't answered my question," he reminded her, holding up his hands in surrender.

She huffed. "Same as you, Harry. I couldn't sleep. So I decided to walk around and tire myself out. That's when I heard faint noises coming from this room," she gestured to the door they were passing by. "But when I tried to open it, it was locked. So I waited outside, my Auror instincts telling me that something suspicious was going on inside."

"Well," Harry began, hesitating slightly. "Kreacher tried to attack me when I walked inside. He started throwing things at me… Think I took an old boot to the head at one point." Tonks raised an eyebrow, looking at him suspiciously, then glared at the door behind him. Harry quickly smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. "But don't worry, Tonks. It's nothing you need to concern yourself with. I think I may have walked in on him doing something with one of Sirius's mum's tea towels, so you really don't want to go in there."

Tonks nodded slowly, then her gaze flickered to Harry's cheek. "Ah, that's why your cheek is a little bruised," she noted, pointing at the mark. "You should put something on it. That little gremlin of an elf has a mean throwing arm. Took a paperweight to the gut last week when I tried to nap on the couch in the library."

Harry winced as he hadn't noticed the bruise on his cheek before. "It's alright," he said quickly, "I'm sure it'll be gone by tomorrow."

Tonks looked at him sceptically, but decided not to pursue the matter further. They chatted as they walked back to Harry's room in a friendly comradery.

"Well, here we are, Harry. Sure you don't want to sneak on down to the kitchen and grab some ice for your face?"

He laughed and gave the metamorphmagus a grin. "Nah, I'll be fine. Don't want to risk waking anyone up, especially Mrs. Weasley."

"Ah, worse than Kreacher sometimes isn't she?" Tonks gave a conspiratorial wink, before ruffling his hair. "Off to bed, wonder boy!"

"I will. You too, Tonks, don't stay up too late! Good night!"

"Ha! 'Don't stay up too late', my arse. Look who's talking!" She chuckled for a minute as Harry entered his room. "Good night, Harry!"

His unexpected encounter with Tonks had nearly derailed his plans, but luckily the locking spell he had used on the door was not easily countered, and he had managed to meet with Kreacher without a hitch… a phenomenon he was not quite used to given his track record in his previous timeline. Leaving the locket at the house had been a risky decision, but Harry had no choice. The locket was a dangerous object, capable of corrupting anyone who came near it with its malevolent influence. Harry didn't want to take the risk of the journey to Hogwarts turning dark and foreboding. As he lay down, his thoughts swirled around in his head until finally, he was slowly enveloped by the embrace of sleep.


As Harry gazed at the photograph Mad-Eye Moody had entrusted to him once again, he felt a twinge of sadness tugging at his heartstrings. It was the image of the original members of the Order of the Phoenix - the first group of brave wizards and witches who had given everything to combat the darkness that threatened their world.

The Order's story was one of sorrow and misfortune, as many of its members had fallen in the line of duty. Marleen McKinnon and her entire family had been viciously murdered. The Prewett twins had fought valiantly against Death Eaters, only to meet a tragic end. Caradoc Dearborn's body had vanished without a trace, and as Mad-Eye had informed him, it had never been found. Frank and Alice Longbottom whose minds were shattered because of the cruciatus curse cast by Bellatrix Lestrange, resulting in lifetime treatment at St. Mungos. Then there was Edgar Bones, who had barely escaped the same fate as McKinnon, leaving behind his infant daughter and younger sister.

As Harry considered the surviving members of the Order, he realised that he could count them on one hand, and he knew very little about their descendants, mostly because Voldemort was not fond of leaving any survivors or loose ends. Susan Bones, Edgar's daughter, who had once resided with her aunt and suffered the loss of her parents, was now his Auror partner. They frequently shared meals and drinks, mourning the cruel twists of fate that had brought them together. Susan had introduced Harry to her Hufflepuff friend Hannah Abbott - and much like how Harry had met Ron and Hermione, the two girls were kindred spirits, and over time they had grown as close as siblings, and Harry had come to grow fond of her as well. But most importantly, Susan had introduced him to Daphne Greengrass, the newest investigator in the Internal Affairs office. Daphne had been assigned to raid their office one dull spring morning, and Susan had made the introduction. The two women had known each other at Hogwarts, but had hit it off after running into each other in the Ministry cafeteria while they were still juniors in their respective departments, fresh out of the Law Enforcement Academy. Later that day when the raids where all done, they had all gone out to dine at Lily's Eatery after Harry and Daphne convinced Susan to pay with a little friendly persuasion - It was an ongoing jest in the Ministry that Susan had a notorious penchant for losing department bets and owed Harry a pretty penny.

As Harry stared out the window, he heard the familiar sounds of Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Black quarrelling in the distance. He chuckled to himself, realising that he had never thought he would miss the pandemonium they caused. Despite the occasional commotion, Harry's life had grown tranquil in the years following the war. He still visited his friends from time to time, but their busy lives meant that those moments were rare. Perhaps they would gather for Christmas or a few meals throughout the year. But for the most part, Harry had discovered peace in the quiet moments of his life.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Hermione, her brow furrowed in faint worry. His voice cut through the air, laced with concern. "What's happened?"

Ron chimed in, his face contorted with a mix of worry and discomfort. "The twins, they were fooling around with their trunks, and Ginny got caught in the crossfire."

Hermione's features twisted with anxiety. "Is she okay?"

Ron's nonchalant shrug didn't quite match the gravity of the situation. "She's fine now. Mum took care of it. No need to fret."

Hermione let out an exasperated huff. "Well, we better hurry. Professor Moody won't be too pleased if we're late for the train. And Mrs. Weasley looks like she's about to blow her top."


Daphne leaned her head against the compartment window, surveying the bustling chaos unfolding outside as families bid their farewells. Amidst the tide of emotions crashing around her, she couldn't help but let a faint smile graced her lips. Memories of her own first time at King's Cross station flooded back, the nervous tension that gripped her tightly so that her father having to carry her while Astoria wept by her side. A blush of embarrassment mixed with nostalgia warmed her cheeks, even though it was a mere figment of her imagination. Fortunately, she was alone in the compartment for now. Tracey had promised to save it for the two of them, but she hadn't arrived yet, as evidenced by her absence.

Daphne shook her head in bemusement as she watched Tracey navigate through the bustling crowd, bumping into people left and right in her determined path. Struggling with a hefty trunk, Tracey's breaths came in short bursts, making it difficult for her to hoist it onto the train. Daphne was sure Tracey had caught sight of her through the compartment window while rushing over. She crossed her arms, silently counting down from ten in her mind. Just as she reached one, the compartment door flung open, and a breathless Tracey Davis propelled herself in front of Daphne, shoving her trunk under the seat.

Daphne swiftly closed the door with a flick of her wand, and Tracey's sheepish grin did not go unnoticed. "I'm so sorry!" she panted, her words punctuated by gasps for air. "My brother took a wrong turn instead of going straight at the light!"

Waving off the apology with a dismissive gesture, Daphne replied, "No matter. The important thing is that you're here." She studied Tracey intently, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

"Are you not heading to the prefects' compartment?" Daphne asked, feigning ignorance, as if she didn't know who the appointed prefects were for the current year. Tracey stared back blankly, her expression void of understanding.

Tracey was one of the top students in their year, a shining beacon of intellect and accomplishment. Only Hermione Granger and Anthony Goldstein could surpass her in terms of academic prowess. Daphne, on the other hand, was a competent student but had never managed to ascend to the pinnacle of her class. A pang of envy tickled her whenever she thought of Tracey's scholastic triumphs. This year, Daphne had contemplated pushing herself to achieve greater academic heights, but she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that it would be unjust to those like Tracey who had outshone her in every measurable way if she were to use her future knowledge. She knew she needed to discuss her thoughts with Harry before making any decisions.

As the distant sound of a train whistle pierced the air, signalling the imminent departure, Daphne felt the train lurch into motion, beginning its journey. Tracey regarded her quizzically, and Daphne repeated her query.

"The prefects' compartment? Aren't you one of the prefects for our house?"

Tracey snorted derisively. "You can be so innocent, Daphne Greengrass," she sneered. "Do you honestly think someone like me could ever be chosen as a prefect? Not when Snape plays favourites with his pet purebloods, always giving them preferential treatment... No offence, Daphne."

"Don't take your frustrations out on me! So that means Pansy, then?" Daphne inquired.

Tracey shrugged nonchalantly. "Who else? And I'm sure you can guess who'll be the male prefect," she said, rolling her eyes with a hint of irritation.

A deep sigh escaped Daphne's lips. "I just hope they don't abuse their newfound power," she murmured.

Tracey emitted a scornful scoff. "Ha! In your dreams!" she retorted.

Daphne returned the smile, settling into her seat. Hopefully, this school year would fare better than her first experience... Especially with Harry by her side this time.


Harry reclined comfortably in the compartment they had managed to secure, gazing out the window at the breathtaking scenery whizzing by. The lush green fields stretched as far as the eye could see, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Harry's eyes were suddenly drawn to Luna on the other side of the compartment, her ethereal presence captivating him. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he remembered the peculiar girl's quirky habits.

With a swift turn of his head, Harry regarded Luna, who was engrossed in reading the latest issue of the Quibbler magazine – only, she was holding it upside down. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Luna, always lost in her own little world.

"Hey there, Luna," Harry began, his tone playful.

At the sound of his voice, Luna lifted her gaze from the magazine, peering at Harry with a curious expression on her face.

"Harry Potter," she responded, her voice dreamy.

"You look different from the Harry Potter I usually see occasionally," Luna continued, her voice trailing off with a touch of whimsy.

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her observation. "Is that so? Do I look more handsome, then?" he quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Neville and Ginny, who were preoccupied with their own pursuits, glanced up at Harry, their eyes widening in disbelief. They couldn't believe he was teasing Luna, of all people.

Luna's dreamy voice filled the compartment, her gaze fixed on Harry with an air of sincerity. "No, you are quite handsome, but no more than usual."

Harry couldn't help but laugh heartily at her innocent response. "Sorry, sorry, I was just making a joke," he apologised through his laughter, attempting to stifle his amusement.

But Luna remained unconvinced, her calculating gaze still fixed on him. Harry couldn't bear the thought of offending her, so he quickly changed the subject.

"So... what is the Quibbler magazine?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "I've been in the wizarding world for over four years now, and this year will be my fifth. I just found out about it, which is very disappointing, don't you think? I always thought the wizarding world only had the Daily Prophet." He gestured towards the magazine in her lap.

Luna's eyes sparkled with delight, eager to enlighten Harry about her favourite publication. "Well, the Ministry doesn't really like it so much. My father is the publisher of it, and Fudge has always held a grudge against him, even back at Hogwarts," she replied proudly, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance.

Harry raised his eyebrows, genuinely intrigued. "Really? That sounds interesting. Can I borrow it? Maybe I'll even subscribe if I like it."

Luna blinked a few times, momentarily appearing normal before her blue-silver eyes widened once more. Harry couldn't help but notice that this was not her usual behaviour, but he was impressed by how quickly she managed to regain her composure.

"Of course," Luna said, reaching out to hand him the magazine. Harry eagerly accepted it, his curiosity piqued.

As he delved into the pages of the Quibbler, Harry found himself engrossed in the captivating articles of the eccentric wizarding magazine. He couldn't help but be fascinated by the bizarre tales and claims that Cornelius Fudge was secretly a vampire, or the exposés on corruption in the Quidditch League. It was a refreshing departure from the often sensationalised stories of the Daily Prophet.

Lost in his reading, Harry glanced up occasionally to observe Luna's unwavering belief in the extraordinary. She still wore her signature necklace crafted from butterbeer corks and had tucked her wand behind her ear, a testament to her unconventional nature. Meanwhile, Neville proudly exhibited his birthday gift - a curious plant known as Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which caught Harry's attention momentarily before he returned to the Quibbler.

He turned page after page, immersing himself in the world of fantastical creatures, ancient runes, and unsolved mysteries. The articles carried an air of whimsy, inviting readers to embrace the extraordinary possibilities that lay beyond the boundaries of the ordinary.

But as Harry read, he couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for Luna and her unwavering belief in the strange and unusual. He was captivated by her ability to see beyond the surface, to find magic in the mundane. The Quibbler, he realised, was not just a magazine but a window into Luna's world—a world filled with wonder, where imagination and reality intertwined. It was only when Neville threw his frog at him that Harry was rudely interrupted from his reading.

Before Harry could even say a word of protest, he found himself drenched in the stinky, green sap that oozed from the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. He blinked in confusion, trying to clear his vision from the sticky substance that now covered his face and clothes.

Neville, who had thrown the frog, looked mortified. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I didn't know it would do that!"

Harry was more annoyed at himself for forgetting the stinksap incident from his first fifth year, and couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Neville. "It's okay, Neville. No harm done," he said, trying to sound reassuring. But as he attempted to wipe off the stinksap, he heard a commotion outside the compartment. The sound of footsteps and voices grew louder, drawing closer with each passing second. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he quickly realised who it might be.

"Sorry, everyone, but I think I need to get some fresh air and clean up this stinksap," Harry said apologetically, grabbing his Invisibility Cloak from its position folded beside him. He slipped out of the compartment and into the empty one next door.

Once he was alone, Harry hastily threw the cloak on himself, blending seamlessly into the train's surroundings. He could hear Ginny calling out to him from the corridor, but he decided it was best to keep his presence hidden, at least for now. Walking towards the back of the train, he passed Cho on his way, grateful that the cloak shielded him from her view.

"Right on time!" he exclaimed under his breath, a wave of relief washing over him. The mere thought of encountering Cho Chang filled him with dread. She was a pretty girl, no doubt, with long, glossy hair and big doe-like eyes, but their past interactions had left him emotionally drained. He had his mind set on getting to know the Daphne of this time, someone whose company felt less tumultuous. With a silent sigh of relief, he lingered in the hallway for a while longer, looking back and observing as Cho's attention was drawn to the compartment where Neville, Luna, and Ginny were present, all still covered in vile stinksap. It was only then that Harry seized the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, casting a quick cleaning spell to rid himself of the putrid substance.

As he tiptoed away, he could faintly discern Cho's voice asking, "Is Harry Potter in here?" Harry's heart quickened as he continued down the corridor, thankful to have evaded the emotional wreck of the girl.


"So, how's the training going? Have you managed to hit your running goal ?" Tracey inquired, her voice filled with genuine curiosity, as she nibbled on a Big Mac and fries that her apologetic brother had bought for her. They had taken a slight detour to the McDonald's drive-thru instead of heading straight to the station, but Tracey didn't mind the delay - after all, who could resist the alluring temptation of fast food?

Daphne let out a sigh, her expression a mix of determination and frustration. "I'm still working on it," she admitted.

"But I sense a 'but' coming," Tracey interjected, munching on her fries at a leisurely pace, her eyes fixed on her friend.

Daphne couldn't help but smile at Tracey's astute observation. She eagerly shared her latest training update, knowing that Tracey would be the perfect sounding board for her ambitions. However, even as she spoke, Tracey couldn't help but shake her head in disbelief at her friend's unwavering fanaticism. After all, summer was supposed to be a time for relaxation and rejuvenation, not for strenuous exercise and spell practice.

"My father won't let me duel with him anymore," Daphne lamented, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment as she pouted.

"Well, no matter. I'm sure this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be more exciting than Professor Moody," Tracey offered optimistically, trying to uplift Daphne's spirits.

Daphne's eyes flickered with a mix of hope and scepticism. "But I'm not as naturally talented as you, Tracey. I struggle to keep up, and somehow you manage to even stay awake in Binns' lessons," she admitted, a tinge of self-doubt creeping into her voice.

Tracey blushed at her friend's words, feeling both flattered and slightly embarrassed. "Oh, come on, Daphne. You're selling yourself short. You're an excellent witch, and you have a unique way of looking at things," she reassured her, trying to lift her friend's spirits.

"I wasn't complimenting you," Daphne retorted with a hint of annoyance, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Tracey let out an annoying giggle, enjoying the playful banter between them. Daphne rolled her eyes, but her attention was soon diverted by something down the hall - the door to the carriage had opened and shut, but nobody had passed through. On a hunch, she decided to investigate. "I need to use the loo," she declared suddenly, rushing off without further explanation. Tracey simply shrugged, understanding her friend's urgency, and pulled out her book, content to wait for Daphne's return, knowing that their journey to Hogwarts would resume soon.


Harry's gaze locked onto Draco and his henchmen in the distance. Without missing a beat, he swiftly took refuge in an unoccupied train cabin, skillfully evading detection. Having already shed his invisibility cloak upon reuniting with Ron and Hermione, fresh from the Prefects' gathering, and he had no desire to confront Draco's childish antics and preferred to spare himself the inevitable headache.

Crouching in the cabin Harry chided himself, fully aware of the folly of engaging with Draco's juvenile behaviour. But he knew he had to play his part in this mission, even if it meant stooping to the level of a petulant teenager. There was a time that the two of them had actually grown to be friends of a sort, and in the future, Draco would be his brother-in-law, a notion that sent shivers down Harry's spine. Harry winced as a memory of a particularly embarrassing intoxicated exchange with Draco during Astoria's wedding resurfaced. The thought amused him as he contemplated the unlikely bond that would form, where Draco would even join him on a perilous quest to secure the perfect ring for his impending marriage with Daphne. Yet, for now, their relationship remained akin to oil and water, constantly at odds. After several tense minutes of seclusion, Harry cautiously peered out of the cabin, confirming that the coast was clear. Seizing the opportunity, he dashed down the aisle, determined to reach his destination without any further run-ins with Draco or his lackeys.

As he exchanged warm smiles with every passing student, Harry realised that aimlessly wandering around was a rarity these days. In his previous life as a fifteen-year-old, such behaviour would have been inconceivable. Back then, Harry revelled in engaging in lively banter with Ron and Hermione within the compartment. However, now, beyond his personal whims, he had a more pressing objective: finding Daphne.

The realisation struck him that he had forgotten what she looked like in 1995. Despite being classmates, their interactions had been limited to mandatory group projects. Daphne had barely registered in Harry's consciousness until Susan had introduced them. Suddenly, a tap on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts, and he turned around, eyes widened and mouth agape, to see who had interrupted his introspection.


.

Thanks for Read!