Chapter Twenty-Three – Third Pact

The pain was almost gone. Just a dull throbbing in the dark. It would be so easy to let go. To be infinite and nothing, all at the same time. To be free.

But something was calling to him, in the endless black. Another soul, lost, as he was. Daphne.

It was the bond between them. It kept Harry from falling even as he leaned over the abyss. Daphne called to him, her voice furious, raging, hot. It wrapped around him like a rope of burning chains, pulling him back from the brink. He opened his eyes.

Bright light blinded Harry and he had to blink several times to get used to it. But it was not the light that stirred his senses the most. Just a few paces away, loud voices reached his ears.

"... could you let this happen, Professor? He trusted you! I trusted you!"

It was Lupin. How strange to hear his teacher so upset, he was not like this usually...

"Please calm –"

"To hell with calm! To hell with all this!"

The first voice had been Dumbledore, the second – Daphne!

Suddenly, Harry's vision cleared. Now he could see everything, every detail. He was lying on one of the beds in the hospital wing. The bright light came from the candlestick above him, its glow reflecting off the white walls of the room. It was dark outside the windows, it must be night, or at least evening. And right in front of his bed, in the middle of the room, stood Lupin, Dumbledore and Daphne, whose voices he had recognised.

Lupin's face was even paler than ever and he seemed to have aged at least ten years since Harry had last seen him, his figure even more gaunt and his shoulders even more slumped. Dumbledore didn't look much better, his face furrowed by deep, dark lines, but at least he was still standing tall as the screams poured in.

Daphne was the only one who really radiated life. And not just life. Her whole body and mind were shaking with rage, her hands clenched into fists, her hair dishevelled. And Harry could not only see the agitation in her, he could feel it in him, for the bond that had awakened him was still trembling.

Slowly, Harry sat up. His body ached, as if one of his curses had fallen back on him while he was practising, or as if a gale had torn him apart while he was flying. He let out a low groan.

Suddenly, Daphne froze. Then a jolt went through her body. She spun around and ran towards him. Before Harry could say anything she had wrapped her arms around him as if she feared he would vanish into thin air at any moment. And maybe she did, because when Harry looked into her eyes, he saw something he had never seen there before. Tears.

Looking into Daphne's eyes when she was crying was like looking into a mountain pool and seeing golden amber shimmering beneath the water's surface. It would be beautiful, if they really were stones in the water.

"You're back," Daphne whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Harry nodded and sat up in his bed. He noticed that he was still wearing his school uniform. So he couldn't have been unconscious for long, or whatever had happened to him. But he also felt a bandage on his forehead and a roar in his skull. Had he been hit in the head?

"What happened?" he asked. His voice was hoarse. He coughed. "What's wrong?"

Daphne looked at him and new tears welled up in her eyes. It hurt Harry to see her like this, the way everything seemed to hurt him at the moment. He looked past his girlfriend to Dumbledore.

"What happened?" he repeated, more forcefully this time.

Dumbledore walked slowly over to his bed. "I am glad you woke up, Harry. For a moment your life seemed to be on a knife's edge. It was Daphne who saved you from the Dementors and gave you this chance in the first place."

Harry's eyes returned to Daphne. She had saved his life? Then why was her face filled with pain?

Daphne drew her wand and hissed as if it were a curse, "Expecto Patronum!"

A glowing silver crow shot from the tip of her wand. Harry's lips twisted into a smile and a comforting warmth flooded his heart. But the warmth faded abruptly as the pain still didn't leave Daphne's pretty face, in fact it seemed to be getting worse by the moment as her Patronus circled above their heads.

"The hell I did," she hissed, "I was too late, too slow, too weak."

Dumbledore shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, Daphne. It is only because of you that Harry is still with us and..."

But Dumbledore's words had faded into the background for Harry. Now he remembered. He remembered.

He remembered.

He remembered talking to Sirius. The sudden cold. The Dementors. His desperate attempt to create a Patronus of his own, like the one that flew above them, his weakness, his failure. He remembered how Sirius had pushed him aside to protect him. And how the Dementors had pounced on his godfather, how his agonised screams had filled the hospital wing...

Harry looked into Daphne's crying eyes. "S-Sirius?" he asked, his voice shaking, though he already knew the answer.

The shake of Daphne's head was the cruel confirmation. More and more tears streamed down her cheeks, as if a dam had burst inside her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's my fault ... if I'd come sooner ... if we'd practised more, if we'd practised the Patronus Charm more diligently ... then Sirius would still be ..."

Harry hugged her. "It's not your fault." He stroked her back, over her soft hair, so, so soft. Her scent rose to his nose, as did her warmth. He took in both. "It's not your fault."

"But you were so happy," Daphne sobbed. "And... And now..."

Harry swallowed hard. "It's not your fault," he repeated, but his words were now mostly mechanical lip movements. His eyes scanned the hospital wing.

"Where is he?" he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

Lupin shook his head, dazed, while Dumbledore pointed to a bed hidden by a screen. Both men remained silent.

Harry slowly pulled away from Daphne. His girlfriend looked at him startled for a moment, but then she understood what he was about to do. She wiped the tears from her face and helped him out of bed. Hand in hand, they walked towards the privacy screen.

Daphne squeezed his hand. "Harry..."

"I know," he said, squeezing her hand as well.

Together they pushed the screen aside. The sight that met their eyes behind it felt like a knife in Harry's heart. His legs wobbled and it was only thanks to Daphne holding him up that he didn't collapse, his heart pounding harder and harder as if it wanted to jump out of his chest.

Sirius lay peacefully on the bed, his face pale but free of the terrors that must have plagued him in his last waking moments. His chest rose and fell slightly, but that too was just a mechanical movement of his lungs, still doing their job, even if it had long since ceased to serve any purpose. There was nothing left in Sirius that needed to be kept alive by breathing. His eyes were as glazed as an empty lamp with the candle extinguished; every emotion that had filled him even in his most maddening hours was gone. Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth onto his chin and onto the sheet, for the empty shell that was his body now did not care that he was staining himself. There was nothing left of Sirius that would have cared about such a thing, about anything. The Dementors had sucked out his soul, a fate worse than death.

"What ... what's happening to him?" asked Harry, his voice shaking. "To... To his body?"

"We can keep him alive, if that is what you wish," Dumbledore said calmly.

It was not only Harry who shook his head, but Lupin as well. "He wouldn't have wanted that," their Defence teacher said.

"In that case, I can release him." Dumbledore's hand slipped into his robes, but Lupin stopped him.

"No ... no. I will do it... As his last friend." With that, Lupin walked past Harry and Daphne and stood beside Sirius, wand pointed at his soulless body.

Harry's blood rushed to his ears, the seconds seemed to pass in slow motion as he watched his teacher. But the seconds passed with nothing happening.

Finally, Lupin lowered his wand arm again. His shoulders slumped even further, as if all the tension in his body had disappeared. "I... I can't..." he said weakly, avoiding their gaze.

Harry couldn't believe it. "What?" he hissed. "You're going to leave him like this? He's your friend!"

Lupin shook his head, still not looking at them. Harry had never been so disgusted by a human being, and Daphne beside him looked like she was about to attack Lupin.

"Then I must do it," Harry said, suddenly filled with icy determination.

Before anyone could react, he had drawn his wand and was pointing it at his godfather. He had never used the curse before, but he knew he would have no trouble with it, for he had never longed for the effect of a spell more than he did at this moment. Anything to escape the sight before him. That empty, soulless gaze.

"Avada Kedavra."

A green beam shot from Harry's wand and hit Sirius in the chest. Suddenly it stopped rising and falling. The lungs ceased their useless service, Sirius' limbs relaxed and the very last breath escaped his lips. After the candlelight, the last of the smoke was gone.

The others looked at Harry with wide eyes, shock and bewilderment in their expressions, except for Daphne. His girlfriend looked at him with an expression of boundless pity. Harry hated it, hated it with all his heart.

"What?" he hissed. He felt tears trickle down his cheeks now. He hated that too. Furiously he wiped them away. "Someone had to do it..."

It hurt Daphne to see Harry like that. To see his pain, to feel it.

And it hurt her to know that she had failed. If she had been quicker, if she had been stronger, she could have saved Sirius too.

Shuddering, she thought back to his last moments. She had only had eyes for Harry then, but still... She would never, never forget Sirius's voice in his last moments in this world. It had sounded like the screams of a man having a limb cut off. It had been anguish, the cry of a tortured soul helpless to stop the pain – of a man trapped in some cycle of agony with no beginning and no end.

If she had been stronger, she could have put an end to it. If she had trained harder, if she hadn't been so distracted in the months before. If she hadn't found her way to her Patronus only in the moment of greatest need, filled with the most terrible fear of losing everything that made her life worth living. If she had only been more powerful, better, Sirius would still be alive. And her Harry wouldn't be suffering now.

Daphne felt it so clearly through the bond that bound their magic together. Harry was on fire. His soul was on fire. His insides were burning from what had happened and what it would mean for him. And his mind felt like a gathering storm, and she was a little afraid of the moment when it would unleash itself. Not if, but when.

A few moments later, after an oppressive silence had settled over the hospital wing, Harry asked the question Daphne feared, but also asked herself.

"What now?" asked Harry, his voice still shaking. "What happens now?"

Dumbledore walked past them and pulled a white sheet over Sirius' now lifeless body. "You have nothing to fear, Harry. What you did was mercy, not murder."

Harry shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said, his voice rising. "What are we going to do now? Who's responsible for this? Who... Who will be punished for this?!"

At his words, a shadow flitted across Dumbledore's face, but it was not Harry he addressed next, but Lupin. "Remus, would you please take Sirius to the old Hall of the Dead? So the house elves can prepare his body for the funeral."

The two men looked at each other for a few moments. Finally, Lupin nodded. "I will do that. Sirius... He doesn't deserve to be stared at by prying students."

Daphne had to pull herself together not to snort contemptuously. Lupin, of all people, talking about what Sirius deserved? He hadn't even had the heart to show him the final mercy!

Harry must have been thinking the same thing, because he kept his eyes away from Lupin. Instead he was staring at a patch of bare stone in the wall. But Daphne felt his disgust, his repulsion through their bond, and... she wasn't sure. Sadness? Hate? Determination? All of it and none of it?

No one said a word as Lupin used his wand to roll the bed with Sirius on it out of the hospital wing. Only when the doors had closed behind him did Dumbledore sigh and turn to them.

"Harry, Daphne, let's sit down."

"I don't need to sit down," Harry said.

"Neither do I," Daphne said.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and then said, "You asked what will happen now, Harry."

"And who will be punished," Daphne added.

"No one."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"No one will be punished," Dumbledore repeated.

For a moment their Headmaster's words hung in the room, then Harry and Daphne broke out.

"What do you mean? They killed Sirius and –"

"That cannot go unpunished! He was in our care! We –"

Dumbledore raised his hands to calm them, but it was his voice, suddenly authoritative and commanding, that silenced them. "No one will be punished," he repeated again, "because in the eyes of the Ministry, no crime has been committed. In their eyes, Sirius was a wanted criminal, and the Dementors had permission, even orders, to kiss him the moment they crossed him."

"But he was here!" cried Harry in despair. He gestured wildly with his hand. "He was here! In the hospital wing! At Hogwarts! He should be safe here!"

Another deep shadow flitted across Dumbledore's old face. "He should be, but..." Dumbledore hesitated, then continued. "But he wasn't. The Dementors were posted here to guard the school, and they were able to break through the protections before anyone... Before I noticed anything. And –"

"But how?" interrupted Daphne. "How did they know?"

"Dozens of messages reached the Ministry; after all, many people saw us with Sirius. I am afraid the way you brought him to the castle was not the wisest."

Harry took a step forward and Daphne didn't miss the way his fist clenched around his wand. "Is this our fault now, or what?" he shouted angrily.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, it is not your fault. It's nobody's fault because nobody knew the truth but us."

"It is your fault," Daphne said. "It's your fault Sirius is dead."

Dumbledore did not answer, but lowered his eyes. Whether out of grief or shame, Daphne couldn't tell, but she didn't care. It didn't change his guilt.

Harry spoke next. "But Sirius was innocent! He was innocent! That must mean something! Or does it not matter either?"

Dumbledore looked up again and it seemed as if dozens of new wrinkles had formed in his face, deep furrows in the flickering candlelight. "Harry, Daphne, my heart bleeds for what has happened to Sirius. But in the eyes of the law, it was legal."

"But is it fair?" asked Daphne. "Sirius deserved better. The world should know they murdered an innocent man. Yes, Professor, I say murder! Because that's what it was! Murder! Can murder go unpunished? That's not what people like you usually preach to us."

"We know it was murder," said Dumbledore. "But we have no way of proving it. Sirius can no longer testify, and Peter Pettigrew, by your own actions, Daphne, is no longer alive to bring the truth to light."

"Don't you dare blame Daphne for this," Harry hissed. His eyes narrowed to slits, green but with a golden glint in them.

It warmed Daphne's heart to see the colour of her own eyes in Harry's, but at the same time it hurt her. Was this to be her strongest influence on the boy she loved? Reinforce his negative feelings?

"I'm not," Dumbledore said. "What has happened to Sirius is a great injustice. An injustice like your parents dying, Harry, or your parents not going to prison, Daphne. Every day, in every corner of the world, injustice happens. Every day desperate people cry, weep and lament, friends have to bury their friends, teachers their pupils, siblings their siblings. Every day is a tragedy in this world, if you open your eyes to see and your ears to hear. But no matter what we do, no matter how hard we try, we cannot fight all the evil in the world. Believe me, I wish it were otherwise."

Their headmaster began to tremble. He sat down on the edge of one of the empty beds, breathing heavily.

"I don't want to fight all evil," Harry said. "Just this one."

"And yet I would ask you not to." Dumbledore gave them a pleading look through his half-moon glasses. "We have no way of ensuring justice. And we are dependent on the Ministry's goodwill in the fight against Voldemort."

"What do you mean?" asked Daphne.

"Some time ago, I discovered the location of another of Voldemort's soul vessels. It is in Gringotts, in the vault of one of Voldemort's most fanatical followers. But to get to it, I must rely on the goodwill and secrecy of many different parts of the Ministry, especially to avoid unnecessary attention. Above all, I need the full support of the Minister. Cornelius Fudge is not a strong man, I fear, but he is proud. I... we cannot afford to make him our enemy. That's why I need your help."

Daphne couldn't believe it. What audacity! They weren't pathetic sycophants! She would never –

"What do you want from us?" asked Harry.

"The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones, will be arriving at Hogwarts shortly to assess the situation," Dumbledore replied. "She will also want to question you both, as you played a key role in the whole affair, and were harmed in the process. I would ask you to lie to Madam Bones during the interview."

Dumbledore paused and looked at them as if waiting for objections. But none came. Neither from Daphne, who was too busy processing the full meaning of the words and the audacity of the request, nor from Harry. Her boyfriend frowned, but he made no reply either. And so Dumbledore continued.

"I will tell Madam Bones that you were both put under Confusion Charms by Sirius. That he forced you to bring him to the castle, probably to kill me before he killed Harry. That would be exactly the sort of mad plan that would not arouse suspicion in a man of Sirius' reputation. I beg you to join me in this lie."

The moment they heard their Headmaster's answer, Harry's face went cold. As cold as dead stone. Dumbledore probably couldn't even tell, not like Daphne, who had seen Harry with so many happy expressions on his face. She could see clearly how something had broken in him at that moment, irretrievably lost, and she hated Dumbledore all the more for it.

And she also felt Harry's decision, made at that moment, in its fullness. This realisation hurt Daphne's soul too, but she had made a decision too. The dear eleven-year-old boy she had met in the Restricted Section might have fallen far, and he would probably fall much farther in the future, but he would not fall alone. In fact, she had probably started off with a head start and he had only caught up with her.

"Yes," Harry said in a flat voice. "I'll do it."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He nodded, then looked at her. "And you, Daphne?"

Go to hell, she thought.

"Yes," she said.

Dumbledore nodded at her. "I thank you both. I know how difficult this must be for you, but..." He trailed off, hesitated for a moment and only then continued. "But you have once again earned my deepest respect."

And you have lost ours, Daphne thought.

"Yes, you have my admiration and appreciation," Dumbledore went on. "You will be informed when Madam Bones arrives. Until then, rest ... it must have been very tiring for you. But your friends are waiting outside, very worried about you. Would you like me to let them in when I leave?"

Harry shrugged as if he didn't care. "Sure."

"Then I will retire now. Thank you, yes, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your understanding..."

As Dumbledore left the hospital wing, Daphne walked up to Harry and put her arms around his body. He felt hot, as if on fire inside. But for him, she would endure all the flames. For him, she would even set the whole world on fire.

The squeak of the door announced them. First Hermione entered the hospital wing, then Ron. Concern was written all over their faces as their eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Harry and Daphne.

Immediately Hermione rushed towards them. Daphne pulled away from Harry – much to his displeasure – so that Hermione could hug him.

"Oh, Harry," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around him. "We were so worried!"

Ron nodded quickly, "And when Lupin brought Black's body out..." He shivered. "It's good to see you're both all right."

Harry had to pull himself together not to shout at them. To scream the truth in their faces and curse them for ever believing otherwise. But... he shook his head. They didn't deserve it. They had no idea what had really happened. He couldn't take his anger out on them.

"We're fine," he lied.

Hermione hugged him tighter. "We should have helped. We should have been with you, both of you. Dumbledore told us everything. That... that you were in Black's hands! That he had hexed you!" She shook her head wildly, her bushy hair hitting Harry in the face. "Thank goodness the Dementors took him down before he could hurt you!"

Harry liked Hermione, he really did, she was his friend, but at that moment he wanted nothing more than to slap her.

But he didn't. Instead he took a few deep breaths to calm his heart and the heat inside him.

"We're fine," Harry lied again. "Black... didn't hurt us."

He tried to say the words as calmly as he could, not wanting Ron or Hermione to know his true feelings. Fortunately, they seemed to be blind, for they smiled at him in relief. Unlike Daphne. Her beautiful golden eyes would see through any deception he tried anyway, so he didn't even try.

Just like Daphne. His girlfriend let him read everything in her eyes, all the anger and determination. But he couldn't rely on her look alone. He had to talk to her. Later.

"The others were worried too," Ron's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "They'll be glad you're all right."

Harry nodded weakly. "But we have to talk to Madam Bones later. She's from the Ministry and wants to question us about what happened."

Hermione looked at him worriedly. "But it's nothing serious, is it? You're not in trouble, are you?"

"Of course not," Daphne said for the first time. She clicked her tongue. "The Ministry just wants to make sure we're all right. And that justice has been done."

Justice. Never had a word sounded so wicked to Harry's ears.

Hermione's expression relaxed. "Oh, then all is well. Madam Bones, you say? Is she related to Susan?"

"She's her aunt," Ron said. "And Dad's boss. She's supposed to be a bit cool and distant, but all in all pretty fair. And not as corrupt as a lot of the others in the Ministry. But Neville also said that Susan doesn't get on so well with her, so good luck, I guess?" He gave them an uncertain smile.

Luck, Harry thought, snorting inwardly. He would never rely on luck again. Just as he would never rely on anything again.

Exhausted, Albus entered his office, which looked exactly as he had left it a few hours earlier, when he had been called to the hospital wing in a panic. But the hours seemed like years. He felt every muscle in his body ache, every joint and bone. A pounding headache plagued his thoughts, and a grey haze kept creeping into his eyes.

Fawkes gave him a worried look from his golden perch and Albus had no strength left to reassure him. The phoenix would have seen through his lie anyway. He simply knew him too well after all the years they had spent together.

Albus sank back in his chair behind the desk. A moment later, Fawkes straightened up and landed on his lap with a powerful flap of his wings, his golden eyes a source of compassion. The flamebird radiated a comforting warmth that made Albus think of cosy evenings in front of a roaring fire, when he still had a family to spend such evenings with. The thought of it stirred old familiar guilt in Albus, and yet the warmth was comforting.

"Thank you, Fawkes," he whispered. "You are a true friend and companion."

The phoenix cooed softly and rubbed his head against Albus's cheek. He sighed and leaned his head against the back of the chair, his eyes fixed on the dark night outside the tower window.

"I failed today," Albus continued quietly, mostly to Fawkes, but also to himself. Most of the portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses slumbered in their frames, but a few cast curious glances at him. Albus didn't care; his predecessors were as devoted to Hogwarts as he was. "I couldn't protect Sirius, that's why he's dead. I never should have left him alone. But I thought he was safe..."

Albus stroked the soft feathers of the phoenix on his lap as he was lost in his thoughts, his never-ending guilt and doubts that he couldn't let anyone else see. What was the use of all his prestige and all the power he had once longed for, if at moments like this he felt like the most helpless person on earth? Alone and abandoned, at the mercy of his pain and regret, for almost a century, since ... he had lost Ariana. That too had been his fault. Then too, he had failed.

And not only then. How much suffering and pain had he caused by his decisions in the past, by all his mistakes? How many lives had his mistakes cost? Would thousands upon thousands of witches, wizards and Muggles still be alive today if he had not encouraged Gellert in his madness? And their descendants, who never saw the light of day? Would many of his friends still be with him if he had opposed Tom earlier and more vigorously? If he had made fewer mistakes? If he had just been better?

All the names, they were burned into his memory. James and Lily. Fabian and Gideon. Edgar, Benjy, Dorcas, Marlene. Alice and Frank, who had probably suffered the worst fate of all. So many names, so many faces. And today a new one was added. Sirius. Another life on his conscience. Another pair of eyes closed forever.

Albus shook his head. He knew that everyone had their regrets, but probably few as many as he did. He had made so many mistakes in his life that it would probably be enough for ten lifetimes.

His gaze fell on the great mirror that stood in a corner of the tower room, covered with a black cloth, and in which lurked a powerful, dark, magical presence. At least one chance to make up for some of his past mistakes. Yes, if he destroyed Tom's Horcruxes and ended his evil work in this world once and for all, then hopefully that would wash some of the blood off his hands. Then they would not have died in vain.

Albus clung to that hope with all his dwindling strength, all his desperation and determination. He just had to manage to defeat Tom. So that it hadn't all been in vain. That their sacrifices would lead to a better future. And if he himself was to be the final sacrifice needed to achieve that goal, then it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

It must not be in vain.

With that thought, Albus forced himself to sit up and rise from his chair, even though everything in his body rebelled against it, as Fawkes took a seat on his shoulder. Again, pain shot through Albus' joints and for a moment his eyes went black.

But Albus walked unflinchingly towards the dark mirror and his prisoner within.

The fight had to continue.

The former classroom was bathed in the merciless light of several magical lanterns, casting long shadows that seemed to add to the oppressive atmosphere. It was almost midnight, but Harry and Daphne were not tired, too shaken by what had happened and what was yet to come.

They sat side by side on two chairs and opposite them, behind a heavy desk, sat Madam Bones. With her grey robes and brightly polished monocle, she was the perfect image of a professional representative of the Ministry of Magic, devoid of warmth and cordiality, interested only in cold facts.

Facts. Harry had to suppress a hateful snort at the very word. Madam Bones had only shaken their hands in greeting, had not even inquired about their condition, although those would have been facts that would have shaken her beloved ideal world.

But Madam Bones just adjusted her monocle, glanced at the notes on the table in front of her and said, "Mr Potter, Miss Greengrass, thank you for agreeing to this meeting. Normally, your parents would attend this meeting as your guardians, as you are still a minor. However, as you no longer have any parents" – her eyes fell on Harry – "or at least none who recognise you" – here she looked at Daphne – "that role would fall to Professor Dumbledore, but he has declined. But I'm sure we'll manage. I don't want to take up too much of your time, so I'll get straight to it. First, could you please tell me how Sirius Black cast the Confusion Charms on you?"

Harry and Daphne's eyes met for a moment. Harry could tell that they were both struggling to control their emotions in the face of this pathetic farce. And so his voice trembled as he replied.

"It's all a bit of a blur, Madam Bones," he lied. "We were walking along the edge of the forest when we met him. He... he surprised us. Before we could react, he had his wand on us. He, he manipulated us, preyed on our fears, like..." He swallowed, a bitter taste on his tongue. "...like the monster he was."

Daphne nodded, her eyes and face neutral if you didn't know her so well. But Harry could see through her mask. Hell, through their bond he could almost physically feel her rage, like flames dancing across her skin.

"Yes, it was a terrible nightmare," she said. "He forced us to take him to the castle and threatened us with terrible consequences if we dared to defy him. We had to play along while he pretended to be captured."

Madam Bones nodded slightly, but it seemed more a confirmation that she had heard and understood than a sign of sympathy. "What was Black planning to do at the castle?"

He wanted to prove his innocence, thought Harry, who was finding it increasingly difficult not to shout to Madam Bones' face what he thought of her and the worthless Ministry she served. It had been hard enough with Ron and Hermione, and they were his friends. He trusted Dumbledore to protect him. That he would not let him be slaughtered like a pig. He believed there could be at least a little justice in this godforsaken world!

Daphne's hand came to rest on Harry's. Her touch was a silent plea for him to hold back his seething rage a little longer.

With a tense face, Harry replied, "It's hard to say, Madam Bones. We were in such a state of fear and panic that we couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't."

Daphne added, her tone matching Harry's feigned uncertainty perfectly, "Yes, it was all kind of a blur. We couldn't make sense of it and it seemed like he was playing with our minds. But maybe he was trying to kill Dumbledore?"

I wished it had been like that, and that he had succeeded.

Madam Bones looked at them intently. "You do realise the seriousness of the situation, don't you? If you withhold information or fail to tell us the truth..." She did not finish the sentence.

Harry noticed how Daphne just managed to avoid clicking her tongue. Instead, she brushed a strand of black hair from her face. "It was just a guess, because Black served Voldemort, and I'm sure it would have given him great satisfaction to kill first Dumbledore and then Harry. But who knows what went on inside a vengeful being like him, how much blood he would have needed to quench the thirst of his madness."

Madam Bones frowned. "You use very figurative language, Miss Greengrass. And vengeful? Why should Black be vengeful? What happened to him was the justice of our magical society. He escaped it for a while, but in the end, even he could no longer hide from the watchful eye of the Ministry."

Not so watchful if we gouge it out, Harry thought.

"Now it is you who is using the figurative language, Madam Bones," Daphne said.

At her words, Madam Bones raised an eyebrow behind her monocle, but her face remained as serious as ever. "Sometimes figurative language is useful to make messages understandable to simpler minds." She looked at them as if they were those simpler minds she was talking about, and it was only Daphne's hand on his that stopped Harry from jumping across the table and knocking the bloody monocle out of Madam Bones' face.

Madam Bones took her notes and stood up. "Thank you for your evidence, Mr Potter, Miss Greengrass. They are consistent with the other witness statements, as well as the reports from Professor Dumbledore and the school healer. Should we require any further information from you, we would contact you, but in view of Black's final liquidation, I think that unlikely. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment with my niece and she's stayed up for it. She is in your year, you know."

Harry and Daphne just nodded languidly as they got up as well.

Madam Bones continued to speak. "She told me a lot about you too. How you had the best grades in the year and how talented you were and how I had to understand that she couldn't keep up with you two." She looked at them appraisingly again. "It seems to me, however, that I can no longer accept that excuse. I wish you both a good night."

With those words, Madam Bones left the classroom, and with her, the magical lanterns went out.

Left behind were Harry and Daphne, suddenly plunged into darkness, broken only by the faint light of the stars and the moon shining in through the windows. But even that was fainter than usual, as if it had taken refuge behind the clouds.

Suddenly Harry felt incredibly tired. His body and mind felt dull. But he knew there was still something to be done. Just like Daphne.

His girlfriend met his gaze and every mask had fallen from her face. There was a deep vulnerability in her eyes. "Harry, I –"

He shook his head. "Not here. Let's... let's go to the Room of Requirement, shall we? We can talk there. Alone. Just the two of us."

"Yes, Harry. Just the two of us."

"Do you think they'll be all right?" asked Hermione quietly as they walked towards the Fat Lady's portal. The castle was dead silent and she felt her voice could be heard for miles.

"That's what they said." Ron looked at her sideways. "Or don't you believe them?"

Hermione sighed. It was a good question. "I don't know," she said, "I have no idea what goes on in their heads. Never Daphne's, and Harry..." She trailed off.

Ron nodded. "We can only be there for him if he needs us."

You could hear in his voice that he himself didn't think it would come to that. Yes, the thought was downright absurd. There was only one person Harry seemed to trust anymore. And that was neither her nor Ron.

They reached the portal, gave the password and entered. It was well past curfew, so the Gryffindor common room was empty. At least except for one person.

"How's Harry?" Ginny's voice rang out as soon as the portal had closed behind them. The youngest Weasley had been sitting in an armchair in front of the almost extinguished fireplace, but now got up and walked towards them. "Is he all right?"

"Harry and Daphne are all right," Ron said. "They just need to speak to someone from the Ministry now."

"They don't even have to stay in the hospital wing," Hermione added. She still had her doubts as to whether Harry was really all right, but there was no need to worry Ginny as well. "Professor Dumbledore also said that they won't suffer any permanent damage from Black's Confusion Charms."

Ginny nodded slightly, a look of relief on her face, before suddenly snorting. "That must have really pissed Daphne off, Black being able to cast a spell on her so easily. Maybe she's not as great a witch as she thinks she is." There was no mistaking the mockery in her voice.

"You're being unfair," Ron retorted. "Black was You-Know-Who's right-hand man and Daphne would still wipe the floor with any of us, probably the three of us at the same time."

Ginny crossed her arms and shot her brother a look of disdain. "What's the matter with you? Do you fancy her?"

Ron went pale for a moment at her words. "Are you mad! Of course I'm not! Harry would kill me! And Daphne would probably even help him. Those two are as thick as thieves."

Ginny snorted again, but Hermione had had enough of the younger girl's jealous whims.

"The important thing is that they're both fine," she said, "and that everything turned out all right in the end. Now let's get some sleep, we have a long day of classes tomorrow..."

At the same time, in another part of the castle, Harry and Daphne looked deeply into each other's eyes. They stood in an empty, bare room, a wreath of flickering candles above their heads. It was the only source of light and yet the rays danced on Daphne's pitch black hair like a magnificent crown.

They both knew the significance of this moment, the first moment they were truly and completely alone since they had said goodbye to each other in the hospital wing earlier that day with a tender kiss and warm words. When Sirius had still been alive and they had still had faith in the world.

"Daphne," Harry began in a quiet but vulnerable voice that he wasn't ashamed of, not in front of her. But he had to know, he had to be sure. "Before we go any further, I need to know. Will you..." He paused, took a deep breath and started again. "Will you stay with me forever, no matter ... what I do in the future?"

Daphne met his gaze, her eyes softening with understanding. She didn't hesitate, as if she had thought her words out beforehand. Perhaps she had.

"Yes, I will, and you won't be alone in this. I swear it, Harry." She moved even closer to him and placed her hand on his cheek. "I swear to you that I will always be with you, whatever happens, because I meant it. Everything I've ever said to you. Everything I've ever thought to myself. I'll be your shield, your sword, your confidante, even if the world abandons us and our friends turn their backs on us. This I vow to you, Harry, till death do us part. I will be by your side forevermore!"

With that, Daphne leaned forward and pressed her lips to his as firmly as if she had made a wedding vow. But her vow was a darker one.

Harry kissed her back, clinging to her, for without her he would be lost, he knew that. Without her, he would surely despair.

As if Daphne could read his mind, she pressed even closer. Her fingers clawed at his neck.

I too will stand by you forever and ever, Harry thought. I will be your anchor as you are mine. And together we will bring the world to its knees.

Their magic entwined and intertwined, enveloping them both like the black wings of a crow. A comforting warmth spread through Harry, accompanied by the familiar taste of Daphne's blood on his tongue, which he absorbed greedily.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads touched and Daphne's eyes held a fierce determination.

"You and me," she whispered, "we take what we can get."