The next day, classes resumed for the two, and Draco Malfoy was released from the infirmary. Daphne was unhappy to see that he had escaped any scarring, she knew it was vindictive of her but she didn't care.
Their first sight of him was when he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, flanked as ever by Crabbe and Goyle, and taking his usual seat with the other first-years. What was unusual, however, was his actions toward them during Potions.
They had seen little of him that morning, as even Malfoy wasn't foolish enough to act up in Transfiguration, but the now-expected muttered insults and laughs at their expense whilst waiting for Snape to grant them entry to the Potions classroom were absent. Instead, Malfoy seemed to have adopted an abject refusal to even acknowledge either of their existences.
Ron Weasley was also noticeably subdued, but Harry and Daphne could understand why. The guilty look and hollow eyes had still yet to leave the boy, who didn't even respond to a juvenile taunt from Parkinson with anything but the reddening of his ears.
Snape himself was in a foul mood, almost reducing poor Longbottom to tears, but didn't even bother inspecting Harry and Daphne's Wiggenweld Potion. Neither of them complained about that, Marie Greengrass had kept up the letters with her tips and ways to improve.
It was Malfoy's strange behaviour that had Harry and Daphne observing their fellow Slytherins closer than they had before during dinner that evening. Those who had not been involved in the events of the previous night were going about their usual business, the odd student sending them a quick glance. The ones who had, like Flint, were giving Harry wary, appraising glances. Farley, after catching Harry's eye, gave him a short, respectful nod, which Harry returned, knowing that it was the Prefect who had truly prevented anything nastier from occurring when she had left to find Snape.
It was their fellow first-years that they paid the most attention to, however. The group had decided to sit much closer to Harry and Daphne than they had previously, though Malfoy made sure that he was the furthest away from them. They were both annoyed by this, as it meant they had to whisper if they wanted any privacy.
"I wonder what that's about," Harry said as he eyed the group from the corner of his eye whilst finishing his cheese and onion pie.
"Maybe they're regretting their choices," Daphne said lightly as she wrote out a letter to her mother whilst waiting for Harry to finish.
"What, being followers of Malfoy?" Harry asked between bites.
"That, and they pulled their wands on us, they're probably fearing retribution from you," Daphne responded as she rolled up the finished letter, paying more attention to the table. "Look, Flint and the others look scared of you now."
Harry looked, seeing the same wariness he'd noticed earlier. "It's their own fault, we never did anything to them."
"Perhaps that's exactly their problem. Are you finished yet?" She asked, and Harry nodded and they began to leave the hall. "Slytherin has maybe a handful of half-bloods, and the rest of us are all Purebloods with old names like mine. They're used to people sucking up to them because of it, and neither of us has done that." She told him as they walked.
Harry hummed in agreement. "No, but I don't see how that's our fault. They made their thoughts clear on us from the start." Harry said, remembering the reception they had both received when they had been sorted into the House of Snakes.
"We were always going to be fighting an uphill battle because of who we both are, Harry," Daphne said knowingly as they walked through the dungeons. "You're the one who destroyed You-Know-Who. Most of our house has family who followed him, even me, and they'll have been raised believing that he was their champion and that you are the enemy for defeating him." She paused as they arrived at the entrance to the common room. Harry gave the password, 'Boomslang', and they entered, walking quickly to Daphne's room. She continued as soon as they arrived. "Then there's me. My parents were Aurors, and they were damn good at their jobs, and would have arrested, or killed if they had no other option, some of their family."
"So then why did Malfoy offer to be my friend on the train?" Harry asked, confused.
"Who knows, maybe his father told him to, or maybe he just wanted to claim the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived' was his friend," Daphne said with a shrug. "But Malfoy is powerful because of who he is. Do you remember on the train, I asked you why you turned him down?" She asked, and Harry nodded. "I know now why, but at the time it was a surprise because of the influence Malfoy would have. For the darker families, once You-Know-Who disappeared, Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, was the big fish in the pond and the one they attached themselves to."
Harry groaned, seeing her point. "So when I cursed Malfoy..."
"They felt obligated to respond." She finished for him. "They were probably told by their families that Malfoy would be coming to Hogwarts this year and told to look out for him, or ingratiate themselves to make dealing with his father easier. Why do you think Crabbe and Goyle follow him around all the time, they're pretty much his bodyguards."
"What about Davis then, she's a half-blood." Harry pointed out.
"Exactly, she has more reason than anyone to try and fit in. Who knows if she actually agrees with their nonsense, her mum is a half-blood too so she might know her muggle family members, but to disagree with Malfoy, Parkinson and the rest would be social suicide in our house." She told him, and Harry nodded at the explanation, it made sense, but it was sad if she really had to force herself to become something she wasn't from fear.
"Is Malfoy's dad that big of a deal? Is he in the government?" He asked, wondering if there would be any further repercussions.
"No, he's not on the Wizengamot, haven't you read about it?" Harry shook his head, and Daphne sighed. "That can wait. The Malfoys are old, very rich, and not afraid to use it, they can ruin people and have done in the past. Lucius Malfoy used that money to great effect in the last war, and after. Dad thinks that he used his money to get the Minister, Fudge, into power. They're always in the paper together, or there's something about the Malfoys making a charitable donation, which means the Malfoys have had the 'honour' of hosting the Ministry Annual Ball for the last few years. He's even on the Board of Governors." Daphne told him seriously.
Harry sighed, eyes closing. "Brilliant, so what'll happen now? And why would the other Slytherins change how they're acting if they are so scared of Malfoy's dad?"
"Because of what you did, Harry. You put Malfoy in the hospital wing, then you defended yourself against multiple students from higher years, and most importantly you came back. You didn't get expelled, and if Lucius Malfoy was able to do anything against you he would already have done it." She gave him a wry smile then. "You've just shifted the balance of power in our house. Malfoy challenged you, lost, and then today he looked submissive to you when he did nothing."
Harry grimaced, shaking his head. "So what, they're going to try sucking up to me now?"
"Probably, in time, once they think they've worked out a good way to do it. Congratulations, Harry, better you than me." She told him with a laugh.
"I have a long memory." Harry bit out, remembering everything that had happened.
"You won't forgive them?" Daphne asked.
"Malfoy hurt you, and the rest would have tried to. No, I won't forgive them. I'd much rather they just stayed away from me." Harry told her sincerely, and she gave him a soft smile.
"I didn't think Slytherin was going to be like this," Harry said with a sigh, glancing at the clock. He'd have to leave for his detention soon.
"Neither did I, really, or at least not this bad. Dad did warn me, and he taught me a little, but it wasn't as bad when he was here. Or he just didn't tell me the stories of wars in the common room." She said with a smirk.
"You know a lot about all this, though," Harry said, waving a hand in the direction of the common room.
Daphne adopted her imperious look and tone. "Of course I do. I'm me, after all. And you, the reprobate of our duo, are going to be late for your detention."
Harry laughed as he got to his feet to leave. "You're lucky you don't have to do any, I seem to remember you cursing Crabbe and Goyle rather brilliantly."
Daphne gave him an indignant look. "I was injured! You can't be in trouble if you got hurt. The pain is punishment enough, those are the rules."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's a Hogwarts rule?"
"That's a Greengrass rule, Astoria came up with it and Dad was stupid enough to agree."
Harry thought he was becoming much too familiar with the Headmaster's office as he walked inside for his detention, immediately going over to Fawkes and thanking him for the previous day.
Dumbledore gave him a fond look. "As much as it pleases me to see you both getting along so well, you are here for a detention, Harry." He reminded him, gesturing for him to take a seat.
Once he had done so, the Headmaster gave him an appraising look. "How have things been, Harry? I trust there has been no further unpleasantness?" He asked, looking over his glasses at the boy.
Harry shook his head. "No, sir, Daphne and I were just discussing that. Is there going to be any fallout from Lucius Malfoy?"
Dumbledore gave him a small smile, eyes twinkling. "I see Miss. Greengrass has been thorough in your education. No, as young Draco received no lasting injury, and as he was the one to cast the first spell, Lucius agreed that it was simply a spat between schoolchildren and there is no harm done."
Harry nodded shortly. "Thank you, sir, I imagine that wasn't a pleasant conversation."
Dumbledore waved him down. "Indeed not, and it was one I wish hadn't been necessary at all. And that is why you are here, Harry." The man leaned forward in his seat. "I do not blame you for what happened, but it could have ended much worse as I'm sure you are aware." When Harry nodded, the man continued with a nod. "To that end, I will spend our time together teaching you better control, both of your magic and of your emotions."
Harry was intrigued, it didn't sound much like a punishment at all. "How, sir?"
"First, I will teach you how to sense magic. Your reflexes with a wand are sharp, and if you had perhaps sensed the incoming spell, you may have been able to shield Miss. Greengrass and the situation may not have escalated as it did."
Harry nodded, seeing the sense in the man's words, and was excited to learn how to sense magic, thinking of all the ways it would come in handy.
Dumbledore noticed his excitement and smiled. The man was an educator to his core and was very much looking forward to these lessons himself. "I would like you to close your eyes for me, Harry, so that we may begin." Harry was baffled at the request but dutifully did so as the Headmaster continued to explain. "I will be conducting a test of sorts, and when asked I will require you to hold your hand out over certain items and tell me if you feel anything. Try to focus your magic into your hand so it can interact with anything it feels, which I am sure you will have little trouble with." He waited until Harry nodded, and summoned the three objects he had selected. "From left to right, if you would Harry."
Harry followed the instructions, holding his hand out over the left side of the desk, moving it slowly along until he felt the magic he had gathered in his hand react to something. His hand stilled, and he tried to focus on what he could feel.
"It feels...like change? A transfiguration? And fluid, like a liquid." Harry told him uncertainly.
"Very good, Harry. Please, continue." Harry did, his hand moving along until he felt something.
"It's new, but natural, whatever it is. There's something else but it's faint. Can I move my hand lower?" He asked, confident in what he had felt but wanting to find what the other, weaker feeling was.
"You can, I will tell you when to stop." Harry's hand lowered until the Headmaster's voice rang out for him to stop.
"I'm not sure, it feels like it's pushing me away, protection maybe?" Harry guessed.
"And the next, Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.
Harry's hand continued along the desk but he felt nothing. Frowning, he moved his hand back the way it had been but didn't feel anything until it was above the second item again.
"Sir?" He asked, wondering what was wrong with the last object.
"You may open your eyes now, Harry," Dumbledore told him, and Harry was able to see the three objects on the desk. The first was a glass of what looked like wine, the second a wooden box with a lock on the front, and the last was a rubber ball.
Dumbledore smiled at him widely. "Excellent, Harry! The first was, as you surmised, a transfigured liquid, in this case, water into wine. The second is a conjured box that has a locking charm placed upon it, and the last is a simple rubber ball with no magic imbued into it." Harry smiled happily at his success. "Your findings were correct, if imprecise, but this is a very good start, Harry." The Headmaster said happily.
"Now, onto the next. If you would close your eyes again for me Harry," He asked him, and once Harry had done so he continued in a quiet, soothing voice. "Focus on your magic, very good, and now please attempt to spread your magic outside of yourself, try to sense what is around you. Take your time, Harry, and focus."
Harry did as he was asked, feeling his magic tingle beneath his skin. He tried to keep his breathing calm as he tried to spread his senses with his magic. At first, he felt nothing but tried hard not to grow frustrated. But then, he felt something close to his body, and he focused on it. It felt familiar, completely receptive to him, reminded him of fire, and felt strangely alive. Did it feel...eternal?
Concentrating harder, he felt his magic flare out further into the room. He felt the transfigured glass of wine and the conjured locked box, the feeling of the items now familiar to him.
"I see you have found some success, Harry," Dumbledore said in the same calm, soothing voice, sounding pleased. "Now try to encompass the entirety of the room, and tell me what you feel."
Harry did so and immediately gasped at what his magic encountered first, an overwhelming feeling of power. "I feel something...powerful, incredibly powerful, much more than anything else here. I've never felt anything like that, sir. Is that you? It's in front of me, I think. There are two other things, things close to you." Harry concentrated hard on the feeling. "One feels... ancient, slightly cold, but it feels familiar to me." Harry frowned, wondering what it was. "The other is a little further away, behind you I think? But it feels strange, rich, but like it's alive in a way? I don't really know how to describe it."
"Good, Harry, what else?" Dumbledore asked him, and Harry focused further. To the side, he felt a larger version of the first thing he had sensed, the strangely eternal object close to his body. This one felt the same, but more, more vibrant and alive.
"Is that...Fawkes?" He asked, feeling like he was correct, and that the other feeling close to him was his own wand in his robes. The Phoenix feather core felt the same as the presence to the side, where he knew Fawkes to be, and it had felt bonded to him - as Ollivander had told him all those months ago. 'The wand chooses the wizard.'
There were other things in the room, much smaller in comparison to what he felt was the Headmaster and Fawkes, but he believed he could feel the Pensieve (it was complex but gave him a feeling similar to nostalgia, and Harry realised with a jolt that his own memory must still be within its depths) but everything else paled in comparison to the Headmaster, his Phoenix and the two powerful items near to the man.
"You can open your eyes now, Harry," Dumbledore told him, and when he did he felt like the room was much brighter than it was before, like he could see more. "Please stand and feel free to investigate what you felt further, confirm if what you felt was correct." Dumbledore instructed.
The first thing Harry did was take out his wand, holding his left hand over it. He was right, the original feeling he had had was his wand, and he could feel the wood thrum in his grip as he inspected it more closely. Walking over to Fawkes, he stroked the Phoenix as he felt him with his magic, and it was the same feeling he had from his wand, but much greater. Then, he went over to the cabinet in which the Pensieve was held and felt the same as he had before, but as he got closer he could feel magic that he was completely unfamiliar with.
Finally, he began to approach the Headmaster but hesitated, unsure if he should, but the man simply nodded encouragingly at him as he watched him approach. Harry knew that he had been right, that the incredibly powerful feeling was Dumbledore himself, and he was shocked at how strong he was.
"It was you I felt, sir. " Harry told him, awed. How could one man possess so much power?
"Correct, Harry. Forgive me for my lack of modesty, but I can imagine that I might be somewhat daunting." Dumbledore told him with a small smile, eyes twinkling with amusement.
"What was the ancient, cold feeling sir?" Harry asked and saw a flash of hesitancy on the Headmaster's face, but Dumbledore said nothing as he reached into a sleeve and pulled out a thin, white wand, and handed it to Harry.
As he had done with his own wand, Harry ran his hand over the wood and immediately recognised the same feelings as before. It was the familiar feeling that he couldn't work out, a feeling that this wand belonged to him, but how could that be the case?
"Sir, I thought your wand was black? I've never seen you use this one before." Harry asked as he continue to inspect the wand.
"It is a very special wand, Harry, that I won in a duel some years ago, and it has been in my possession ever since. I rarely use it, preferring the wand that chose me when I myself was a boy." The Headmaster told him, pulling out the black wand that Harry recognised from his other sleeve, and offering it to Harry.
Harry took it, handing back the white wand and immediately feeling a sense of loss, but shook the sensation from his head as he inspected the other wand. "I didn't notice this one, sir. I think it was drowned out by you and...that other wand." Harry told him, eyes darting to the sleeve the white wand has disappeared back into.
"What do you feel now, Harry?" The man asked curiously.
"I'm not sure, it's not like my wand, I can't feel much from it. There's a sense of...fire, I think?" Harry reported, glancing at the Headmaster who nodded at him.
"The core is Dragon Heartstring, Harry, that may be the fire you felt. Dragons are closely associated with the element, as are Phoenixes, and are capable of breathing it, though I'm sure you are aware of that." Dumbledore told him, chuckling.
"And the last feeling, sir? The one behind you." Harry asked, looking at the bookcase that took up the wall behind the man. His eyes searched along the shelves but he could spot nothing that he felt was a match for what he was looking for.
Dumbledore looked regretful as he answered. "I am sorry, Harry, but I cannot show you. It is an item that an old friend of mine has entrusted me to keep safe. I am sure you can understand."
Harry nodded, a little disappointed to not get the answers he sought but understanding why the Headmaster couldn't show him, and returned to his seat, glancing at the clock near Fawkes' perch and seeing it was nearly half past eight. The time had passed quickly, but he had thoroughly enjoyed himself.
"I believe our time together is coming to a close, and your curfew is fast approaching, but is there anything you would like to ask me, Harry?" Dumbledore offered, leaning back in his chair contentedly.
"There was, sir. Daphne mentioned the Wizengamot to me earlier, but as you're Chief Warlock I thought you might be able to explain it to me." Harry asked.
"Very well. The Wizengamot fulfills two pivotal roles in our society, being both our legislative body and our court of law. It was established long before the Ministry itself, though the year itself is unclear." Dumbledore explained, and Harry again got the sense that the man loved nothing more than educating others.
Harry nodded. "But who's on it, sir? Daphne said that Lucius Malfoy wasn't on it despite him being influential."
"Well, first there are the elected members, consisting of the Chief Warlock, which is currently myself, who presides over the sessions and keeps order, then you have the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and his Senior Undersecretary, which at present is a woman named Dolores Umbridge. Then, you have the Heads of each Department, of which there are eight. Amelia Bones of the Department of Magic Law Enforcement, Corban Yaxley of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Amos Diggory of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Bartemius Crouch of the Department of International Co-Operation, Richard Davis of the Department of Magical Transportation, Ludo Bagman of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Saul Croker of the Department of Mysteries and Griselda Marchbanks of the Department of Magical Education."
Harry listened carefully, committing the names to memory, and was interested to hear a few names, like Bones and Davis, that he recognised.
"Then, we have the members who are deemed to have earned the right to a seat and a vote," The Headmaster continued. "Those who have been awarded an Order of Merlin for services to our country. It is a great, and rare, honour to receive the award, and its recipients are highly respected."
"You got one, didn't you sir?" Harry asked, remembering the information being on his Hogwarts letter.
"I did, Harry. I was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, for my defeat of Gellert Grindelwald in 1945." Dumbledore told him, his voice thick with an emotion that Harry could not place, but knew it was not a happy one.
"Was he the wizard you won the wand from, sir?" Harry asked, eyes darting to the Headmaster's sleeve.
The Headmaster nodded, the strange expression still on his face. "He was, Harry. He was an incredibly powerful man, almost more than I could handle." Harry saw the man's eyes turn distant and cloudy and thought that he must be remembering the duel he had fought.
Shaking his head to clear it, Dumbledore clapped once. "But, that is a tale for another day, and the hour is growing late." He plucked a sheet of parchment from a pile beside him, wrote out a short note, and passed it to Harry. "This is a pass to explain why you are out of bounds past curfew, however, please do not dawdle on your way back to your common room." He told him.
Harry took the note with a nod and turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"Sir, did you fight Voldemort too?" He asked curiously.
"I did, Harry," Dumbledore told him with a sigh.
"What is he like? Is he stronger than Grindelwald was, than you?" Harry asked, hoping he was not.
To Harry's disappointment, the man nodded. "He is Harry, undoubtedly so. Tom had more power than either Grindelwald or myself, and none of the restraint."
Harry couldn't believe that the man could outstrip Dumbledore, not after feeling the Headmaster's power for himself.
"Then how were you able to survive, sir?" 'How can I?'
Dumbledore looked at him seriously. "Because Tom is arrogant, too assured of his own brilliance and believing his power to be unmatched. He was skilled, frightfully so, and knowledgable of magics I myself wouldn't dare to delve into, but he was not as skilled or as knowledgable as I. He would waste his power and reserves as he grew frustrated and angry that another was on a similar level to his own and able to stand wand-to-wand with him. Remember that, Harry."
Harry nodded, leaving the office deep in thought. He swore he would heed his words, and would remember the most important lesson the Headmaster had imparted tonight.
Power was not the be-all and end-all, and Harry had to be better than those that had come before him.
A knock on her door sounded and Daphne jumped up, eagerly throwing it open and admitting Harry into the room quickly. Once the two were seated she asked him how his detention had gone.
"He taught me how to sense things with my magic, feel what's around me," Harry told her, and Daphne was astonished.
"Really? What can you feel here?" She asked, looking around the room and guessing at what Harry could sense.
Harry closed his eyes briefly, and when he did Daphne froze as a wave of raw power washed over her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and her skin feel like it was on fire. This felt better than any Phoenix song ever could. It was intoxicating.
'You're damn right it is'
Harry opened his eyes, smiling warmly. "I can feel you. I could feel the Headmaster and how strong he is, and I can feel your power." He frowned momentarily but was soon back to smiling, wider than before. "But it's different, with you I can feel something more. It feels warm, and welcoming, like a hug, and something else but I don't recognise it. You feel...nice." He finished with a little embarrassment.
'Nice? Only nice?'
He looked over to the door. "I can feel the door and the protections on it. It feels a little like you, too, probably because they're keyed to you." He said, taking her hand and nodding. "Yeah, definitely you, it's like they're connected to you. A useful trick to have, right?" He asked her, wanting to see what she thought.
Daphne nodded faintly, still stunned, but to her utter horror her throat betrayed her when it produced a distressed squeak without her express permission when the feeling of Harry's power disappeared as he stopped projecting it around the room.
Perhaps she could try reading the book Astoria had sent her, purely for research purposes of course.
"Daphne? Are you okay? Harry asked with concern when she still hadn't said anything.
She looked at him for a long moment before she spoke. "You still don't know how amazing you are, do you?" She said with a shake of her head.
Harry made a disbelieving noise. "I'm powerful, but not as much as the Headmaster, and he said Voldemort was even stronger. I need to be better, much better than I am." He told her, determination in her voice. "I need to be stronger, but I need to be more skilled than him, know more."
He looked her in the eyes then, and she felt lost in them. "Will you help me?" He asked hopefully.
Daphne nodded firmly, refusing to look away from him.
"Always."
The lessons (officially, detentions) with the Headmaster continued throughout the next week, and Harry found himself warming to the man more than he would have thought possible. It was true that it had been his decision to send him to the Dursleys, and he had suffered greatly because of it, but he had been open and honest with Harry ever since, and he was enjoying his time learning from the old wizard immensely.
He had told the man about the offer he had received from Daphne's parents to stay with them for Christmas, knowing that he would likely need his permission, and it wasn't until the next night that the man had agreed and told him he was delighted that Harry had found a friend like Daphne. Harry figured that he must have spoken to Daphne's parents somehow, for in the next Transfiguration lesson Professor McGonagall had quietly awarded the girl 20 points for 'lovely penmanship' and given them both secretive smiles.
They had further explored Harry's awareness of the magic around him, becoming more and more familiar with each item he encountered. After he felt confident that he could identify different charms, transfigurations, jinxs, hexes and curses on items around the room, the Headmaster had moved on during their third lesson to actively casting magic around Harry, who had his eyes closed and had to identify what the spell was.
After his lessons, he would return to Daphne and the two would practice magic deep into the night, or at least whatever magic they could cast safely on each other and the room around them.
Harry had been less than impressed one night when he had been looking through his trunk, bent over and looking for a new book when Daphne had spoken from behind him. "Harry? Can you take a look at this?" Daphne asked sweetly, and Harry, idiot that he was, fell for it, turning towards her to immediately receive a jet of water slamming into his face without warning.
"Why." He deadpanned, patiently waiting whilst Daphne finished howling with laughter.
"Now I can practice the drying charm." She had said as if it made total logical sense to her.
The two found that they were constantly under observation from their fellow Slytherins that week, whether it be in classes, in the Great Hall or in the library. They both felt annoyed by the attention, and Harry had taken to staring at their watchers until they either looked away or moved on. The other first years continued to sit closer to them during meals, but none of them had attempted to speak to them yet, though Davis had looked close to doing so during dinner on Friday when Daphne had been telling him about different methods of transport after Harry had expressed his wish to fly everywhere once he had his own broom.
During Defence Against the Dark Arts, neither had noticed the intense scrutiny Harry was under from Professor Quirrell as they were doing their assigned reading, but Harry's throbbing headache after each class was only becoming worse. Daphne had wondered if he were perhaps allergic to garlic, concerned for him as he pooled his magic in his head, desperately trying to soothe it, but Harry knew he wasn't as he had used it enough times when cooking for the Dursleys and never had this reaction before.
But soon the week was over, and Harry's evenings were his own once more, and Saturday afternoon found the pair of them in the Quidditch stands, awaiting the first game of the season between Slytherin and Gryffindor.
The teams entered the pitch, being announced by a Gryffindor student called Lee Jordan, and they laughed at the boy's funny comments and clear bias with the rest of the stadium, especially whenever Professor McGonagall, who was minding him, would try to intervene.
They were both impressed by the skill of the Gryffindor team and disgusted by the blatant rough play and borderline cheating from the Slytherins, but in the end their House was victorious 270-80 after Adrian Pucey had beaten the much larger Cormac McLaggen to the snitch.
One Sunday near the end of November, the two had been on the way to the library after lunch when Daphne had needed to stop on the second floor to go to the bathroom. She'd heard that this particular bathroom was haunted by a quite miserable ghost, but after peeking her head in to check she saw that the dead girl was mercifully absent and ducked in. Whilst she had been washing her hands, she noticed a strange marking on the tap she had been using, and upon closer inspection saw that a snake had been engraved onto it. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided that a former Slytherin must have done it in a fit of House pride.
"What are you doing in here?! This is my toilet!" A voice suddenly shouted from behind her, and she whirled, clutching at her chest.
The ghost had returned and was scowling at her.
"Washing my hands, what did you think I was doing? Knitting?" She snarked, trying to control her breathing. "Don't you know it's rude to sneak up on people?"
The ghost had the temerity to nod happily, her previous scowl gone. "Oh, yes, they jump so high when I do. You should try it."
"I'll take your word for it," Daphne said, turning back to the tap and turning it off. "So you've laid claim to this toilet, have you?"
"Yes, it's mine." The ghost said possessively.
"I don't suppose you're the one that carved that snake into the tap?" Daphne asked, eyeing the girl but only now seeing the Ravenclaw badge on her robes.
"Why do you think I'd go near the thing that killed me?!" The girl screamed, and a knock at the door sounded.
"Daphne? Everything alright?" Came Harry's voice from where he was waiting outside.
"Yes, everything's fine." She called back as she started to walk away from the temperamental ghost.
"Of course you have a boy waiting for you, pretty girls like you always do, but no one ever comes to see poor Myrtle!" The ghost, Myrtle, wailed from behind her.
Daphne turned rapidly. "How is that my fault? I've never even seen you before, you can't blame me that you're lonely."
The ghost nodded miserably but then brightened suddenly. "Maybe you could introduce me to your friend?" She asked shyly.
Daphne stared at her. "Are you somehow drunk?"
Myrtle shook her head, smiling wildly. "Oh, no, that's one of the first things I tried. So, are you going to introduce me?" She asked again, and the eagerness on her face was startling.
Daphne looked up at the ceiling, counting to ten in her head. "Fine, but don't blame me if you scare him off. Harry!" She called, closing her eyes as she regretted even bothering.
"Yeah?" He called back.
"Can you come in here please?" Daphne forced out with an innocent voice.
"...I beg your pardon?" Harry's disbelieving voice said faintly.
"Now?" She called again and turned when she heard the door open a crack and saw his face peeking through.
"What is it?" He asked, eyes darting around suspiciously until he caught sight of Myrtle.
"This is Myrtle, she'd like to meet you," Daphne said with a tired wave toward the girl, and Harry's head disappeared for a moment before he came back, stepping fully into the bathroom and leaning on the door to keep it closed, nervous about getting caught in a girl's bathroom.
"Hi, Myrtle." He said pleasantly to the ghost, who was looking him up and down.
"Oh, you'll be dreamy in a few years!" Myrtle said in what she must have thought a kittenish voice that Harry completely missed and Daphne caught immediately. She'd read more of The Witches Guide to Wooing Your Wizard than she should have.
"Right! You've met him, come on Harry!" Daphne snarled, storming to the door and grabbing hold of Harry's arm.
Harry waved goodbye to the ghost as Daphne shoved him to the side and wrenched the door open. "Bye, Myrtle."
"Come back soon, Harry!" She said to him, fluttering her eyelashes.
"Err, sure." Harry said as Daphne threw a filthy look back at the ghost before slamming the door closed.
"You most certainly will not be going back!" She raged, dragging him down the corridor and away from the bathroom. "Who knows what she'll do if she gets you alone?"
Harry glanced at her, wondering what was wrong. "I only said hi and bye to her, you're the one that spoke to her properly."
"So? How is that relevant?" Daphne demanded.
"So I won't be alone, you'll be with me," Harry told her matter-of-factly.
Daphne just groaned.
The Christmas holidays were approaching quickly, and Daphne had thus far managed to stave off a further visit to Myrtle's bathroom. If she had her way they'd never see the spirit again. They had both gleefully signed the sheet that appeared on the common room noticeboard that stated they would be leaving for the holidays. They saw that no names were on the to-stay list.
And so, on the night before they were due to board the train and return to London, the two decided to go on a late-night wander under Harry's cloak, knowing they wouldn't return to the castle until January 5. They had again visited the forbidden corridor on the third floor, where Daphne whispered a 'Merry Christmas' to the completely unaware Cerberus and Harry reached out with his magic to study the dog further.
Harry had let his magic roam around as they walked up to the fourth floor, but kept having to glance around and behind him, as he swore he could hear purring every now and then, and thought it might be Mrs. Norris, the caretaker Argus Filch's cat, or perhaps Professor McGonagall.
Daphne was trying very hard to stop the happy hums she kept releasing involuntarily, but couldn't help herself when his magic would flare when it found something to study.
Harry stopped them suddenly in front of an abandoned classroom. "There's something in there." He whispered excitedly.
Daphne reached forward and found the door unlocked, so the two stepped inside, shutting the door behind them.
There, in the centre of the room, was an enormous mirror. No reflection of them appeared, and when they shrugged off the cloak, their images still did not show. Harry reached out with his magic, sensing the mirror.
"What do you feel?" Daphne asked, eyes raking over the mirror and its frame.
"It's powerful. Apart from that, not much. There's something about it, but I've not encountered it before so I don't know what it is." He told her, stepping forward to stand centrally to the mirror's field of reflection.
Daphne continued to look at the frame of the mirror and noticed something. "There! Look, there's writing. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi." She attempted to replicate, frowning. "Is that Welsh? Harry, what-"
But Harry wasn't listening to anything she was saying. When he had stepped closer to the mirror, standing directly in front of it and in its centre, his image had suddenly appeared. What was different, however, was that he was older.
Harry stared hard at the picture that was reflected back to him, studying it. He looked tall and healthy, and his face was happier than he could imagine, but it was the woman he held in his arms and was gazing down at that caught Harry's eye.
He gaped at the woman and knew instantly she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
She was around a head shorter than Harry himself, with long blonde hair and deep blue eyes that were looking lovingly up at his older counterpart. Harry knew exactly who this was, and felt his mouth turn dry as he gazed at the image of Daphne Greengrass.
Harry stared at the image, but his heart stopped when the image suddenly distorted, and a new image appeared. He saw himself, but he was alone this time. He looked the same as he had in the previous vision, but now he stood alone in the center of a forest. Around him, he saw the trees, the grass beneath his feet and animals like deer and foxes wandering in and out of the frame. And then, everything around him began to die, withering away, and yet still Harry remained, looking exactly the same.
Harry looked around the glass, wanting the previous image to come back, and reached out with his magic to interact with the mirror so he could see it again-
"Harry, have you been listening to me?" Daphne asked, startling him, and he took a quick step backward and saw the image of himself disappear as everything around it had done.
"W-what is this?" Harry stammered, looking to Daphne who was alarmed at the wild look in his eyes.
"Harry?" She asked, concerned and worried.
"It showed me...something," Harry told her, feeling numb.
"Well, while you were staring, I found some writing on the mirror." She told him, frowning. "Look, on the top." She pointed it out, and Harry read the words there.
"What does that mean?" He asked desperately, needing to understand what power this mirror held.
"Harry, you're scaring me, what's wrong?" Daphne said quickly, grabbing his arm.
"Look, I'll show you." He said, walking her over to where he had been standing. "See, see what it's showing?"
Daphne couldn't believe her eyes. She could see herself, older and beautiful, but it was the man who had his arms wrapped around her in a loving embrace that she was staring at. It was Harry, older but very handsome, and had an expression of absolute adoration on his face as he looked down at the image of her older self.
She had been staring at the mirror for almost three minutes before she shut her eyes suddenly, and a pressure inside of her mind that she hadn't even realised was there was suddenly gone.
She stepped back quickly, turning to Harry who was looking understandingly at her.
"Did you see it too?" Harry questioned her.
Daphne stared at him, willing him to listen. "Harry, that thing is dangerous, don't look in it again-"
A voice rang out behind them. "Please listen to Miss. Greengrass, Harry."
They both turned quickly to find Albus Dumbledore standing in the now-open doorway, worry etched on his features.
He stepped forward towards the two children. "I see the pair of you, like so many before you, have discovered the Mirror of Erised?"
"Sir, what is it?" Harry asked, glancing back at the mirror.
"Did you not decipher the message above the mirror?" Professor Dumbledore questioned them evenly. When they both shook their heads, he gestured for them to look at it again. "Perhaps you would like to take another look."
They both stared at the writing, reading it over and over, but it was Daphne who spotted it first.
"I show not your face but your heart's desire." She murmured, eyes flickering over at Harry before looking away quickly.
"Is that true, sir?" Harry asked, mouth suddenly dry.
"It is, Harry, and very dangerous, as Miss. Greengrass told you. Men have wasted away before it, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible." Professor Dumbledore told them solemnly.
"I thought it might show the future." Harry muttered to himself, refusing to look at the girl beside him and wondering about why the image changed.
"Why is it here, where anyone could stumble across it?" Daphne asked the Headmaster, carefully keeping her gaze from drifting to Harry.
"There are protections in place to prevent entry to all but myself, Miss. Greengrass, though I'm sure you can reason why they did not stop the two of you." Dumbledore told her lightly.
"The cloak. And then when we took it off.." Daphne realised.
"I was alerted to your presence and made my way here." Dumbledore finished with a smile.
"Now, off to bed with you both, you will need to be well-rested for your journey tomorrow." He told them, eyes twinkling as he looked at them.
They nodded and both got back into the cloak, disappearing from the Headmaster's view as Harry pulled the hood up over his head.
"Merry Christmas, Professor." "Merry Christmas, sir." They told him as they walked past him and out of the door, which the man happily returned.
And when they arrived back at the doors of their rooms, they found that their hug goodnight lasted for longer than it had the night before.
Neither told the other what their heart's desire had been.
Their second journey on the Hogwarts Express was much smoother than the first had been, owing largely to Harry remembering to put what he now knew to be a Notice-Me-Not charm on the compartment door.
Harry regretted it when his stomach began rumbling, jumping up to hopefully track down the trolley witch, but Daphne told him not to, saying that her Mum was a brilliant cook and they'd have a full family meal that night.
Finally, the train began to slow and soon they had come to a stop, back in King's Cross Station once more.
Harry grabbed their luggage, shrinking them into his pockets, and the two walked easily through the train to head out of the door and onto the platform, where Daphne began searching through the crowd for her family.
"Come on, come on, where are they..." She muttered, before suddenly pointing with a happy shout. "There! At the back! Let's go Harry" She said quickly, grabbing his arm and pulling him along.
Harry's nerves were getting the better of him as she led him over to her family, and he got his first look at her dad and sister.
Daniel Greengrass was a tall, well-built man with blonde hair and blue eyes which his oldest daughter had clearly inherited, but it was her mother, who Harry recognised from Madam Malkin's, that Daphne most resembled. He had a smile on his face when he spotted their approach, but his gaze soon moved on, eyes looking searchingly around them for signs of danger.
Marie Greengrass looked as beautiful as he remembered, and her smile was wide as she rushed forward and enveloped her daughter in a crushing hug. "Oh, sweetie! Look at you! You've grown."
Astoria Greengrass was a little shorter and thinner than her older sister but was very pretty in Harry's opinion, greatly resembling a younger version of her mother. Her young face was perfectly blank as she looked at him.
It was Astoria who was the first Greengrass to greet Harry, looking at him slowly from head to toe, before nodding once and telling him "Not bad."
She then turned to Daphne, who had removed herself from her mother's embrace with wide eyes when she'd seen Harry had been abandoned to Astoria. "You'd best have read that book sister because if you haven't I'll take him."
Daphne's thunderous look had to be seen to be believed.
And here's chapter 8. Less fluff in this one and more advancing of the story, and a few things that will definitely be important later.
Not as long an author's note this time, I've finally finished my night shifts but I've had like 3 hours sleep but I wanted to get this chapter finished so I can do the Christmas chapter next.
As much as I'm kind of just writing this as it comes (I don't have a story outline written out, I tried to do one and it did my head in so I wrote the first chapter instead), I do have an idea of what needs to happen for this story to progress how I want it to.
We meet Myrtle for the first time and that was fun to write.
And we have the Mirror scene, does anyone want to take a guess as to why Harry's changed?
For the Mirror, I've always had the headcanon that it'll show your heart's desire even if you had no idea that is what you desire, which is why both of them are shocked by it, and why Harry doesn't see his parents this time (and is very much related to an earlier scene in this chapter, points to whoever makesthe connection). I did originally write it as Harry seeing them as well as him and Daphne, but then Daphne's was just going to be her and Harry and it didn't seem fair to me. She wouldn't see her family, because why would the Mirror show what she already has?
Anyway, here it is, hopefully you all enjoy it, leave a review and let me know what you think.
And a massive thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited and left a review, the support for this has been amazing.
Enjoy.