Daphne was experiencing very mixed feelings. She just shared a very nice moment with Harry and she was grateful for that. But on the other hand, she also removed a magic-suppressing cuff from her prisoner! A prisoner who could apparently do wandless magic and have already attacked her with it earlier. 'Are you completely out of your mind? What the hell is wrong with you!' a part of her wondered. She tried telling herself that it was just a ploy to get Harry's trust. And maybe it was at the beginning. But by his own admission and actions, Harry already trusted her even after what she did to him so there was no point to that.

That left only one explanation of why she took such a huge risk – despite all that he was, Daphne felt she could also trust Harry on some level. She trusted a known blood traitor who routinely associated with the worst sort of mudbloods!

It was clear to Daphne that she would have to do some serious soul searching before fully understanding her decision.

For now, despite the risks, removing the bracelet from him was a huge relief for Daphne's conscience. Suppressing someone's magic was, by its nature, a vile act. Magic, especially great magic like Harry's, should be nurtured and made to grow. Not shackled and held down. Daphne only did what she did because she felt she had no other choice. After she freed him from the evil artifact, Harry's green eyes were filled with expression of happiness and gratitude and she could not help but smile at him in return.

'Could he be mind controlling me with his eyes?' she briefly thought before dismissing the silly thought. It gave her an excuse to stare at him for a bit longer though. She really loved his eyes. Which was ironic seeing as the rumor was he inherited them from his mudblood mother.

Daphne propped her head on her hands as she studied the enigma that was Harry Potter from across the table. "Tell me more about your adventures in Hogwarts," she requested and listened as the boy obliged her. And as it turned out, there were so many amazing stories he was involved in over the years. It made Daphne regret the fact they did not meet sooner.

It was not long before Sue Li returned with the yearbook. "I found him!" she announced after entering the office. Harry was just finishing telling Daphne about his sixth year and the girl was totally engrossed in his retelling of the Inferi cave fiasco. They both slowly switched attention to the muggleborn girl as she stepped closer and put the book on the office desk. "Here he is," she said as she first placed it in front of Daphne but at the girl's gesture, shifted it to the middle of the table so both she and Harry could see.

Daphne read the page and sure enough, there he was with a picture and everything. She sighed in acceptance. Tom Marvolo Riddle, graduate of the year 1945, Slytherin... parents unknown… blood status unknown. It went on to list his academic achievements and magical abilities which could be of interested to prospective employers.

"Thanks, Sue… you may go now," Daphne told her and then added, "Don't mention this to anyone," she said decisively.

"Of course not," the girl assured her and with a small curtsy to Daphne she walked away, leaving the two of them alone.

"He was quite handsome, wasn't he?" Daphne mentioned absentmindedly as she stared at the picture of the false dark lord with hatred.

"I guess," Harry reluctantly admitted even as he looked at the page with interest. He had no idea that Hogwarts even published any yearbooks although he supposed that it made sense. He knew that even muggles did that. In fact, he could remember uncle Vernon proudly showing his yearbook from Smeltings to quite a few visitors over years.

"Why did you want to see this anyway?" he then asked her. Ever since Daphne summoned Sue Li and ordered her to bring the book, Harry wondered about the reason for that. Did she still not believe him?

"I needed one final confirmation of your story, Harry," Daphne said. Seeing his dejected expression, she then added hurriedly. "I believed you, but there was one last unlikely possibility that this was all a masterful deception manufactured by Dumbledore," she explained. "Before I committed my family to a war on the Voldemort, I needed to exclude that possibility… surely you can understand that?" she said with a small pout.

Harry nodded, satisfied with that explanation. He could not blame her for wanting to be absolutely certain. After all, the story sounded pretty unbelievable even though it was the truth. "How does the book help though?" he then asked.

Daphne smiled and flipped the pages all the way to the beginning. "This was printed when Armando Dippet was still the headmaster. Which means that Dumbledore would have no control over what's in this book."

Harry looked where her finger was pointing and sure enough, there was Dippet's name on the bottom of the front page.

"This is also the reason why the blood status of the graduate is mentioned," Daphne explained. "They stopped including that only when Dumbledore took over," she said with clear disapproval in her voice.

"Interesting," Harry mumbled as he digested that information. It did not surprise him that Dumbledore would do that. No doubt it was part of his life-long effort of giving muggleborns and purebloods an equal standing in magical society. Harry just wondered whether it actually helped the graduates in any way by removing it from the yearbooks. Did making the information less accessible lead to greater acceptance or did it only foster greater level of paranoia? After all, it has been half a century since the change and the blood status discrimination was still alive and well even in his generation.

The beautiful blonde girl in front of him was the perfect evidence of that. Harry constantly wondered whether he was somehow betraying his ideals by being attracted to such a person. Despite his feelings, he was not blind to her faults. He knew very well what Daphne was – a pureblood supremacist. Hell, she considered one of his best friends as something inferior, calling her worthless trash. Harry knew that he should resent her for that and he did, constantly fearing what she might decide to do. Daphne's philosophy was horrible. The fact it was Voldemort's ancestry that finally made her change her mind about him rather than any of his evil actions spoke volumes. Harry naively hoped that the revelation might change her opinion on the pureblood supremacy but if anything, it made her even more adamant about it.

At the same time, Harry could not resent her too much for it since it was probably Daphne's firm believes that saved their lives, at least for the moment. Had Daphne Greengrass been less convinced of the pureblood supremacy, she might have decided to conveniently ignore the fact Voldemort was not really a pureblood. And then she would have handed Harry and his friends over to him in exchange for a reward. It was a great irony.

So in a way, Harry was grateful that she was who she was. Honestly, he actually admired Daphne for staying true to her believes even though he passionately disagreed with them. Harry briefly smiled at that thought. The blonde witch had an uncanny ability to make even her worst characteristics seem admirable to him. Harry was not sure what to think of that or where it left him.

But if she was going to help him defeat Voldemort as she claimed… he would accept her help and work with her. He just hoped he would be capable of looking Hermione in the eyes when it was over.

"So now you know beyond the shadow of a doubt," Harry said even as he closed the year book, bringing Daphne's gaze on him. "What are you going to do? How are you going to fight Voldemort?"

The girl looked at him with slight annoyance and said. "I already told you that I need more time to think about that. One hour is not enough time," she pointed out. "Give me few days and I will give you an answer, I promise."

Harry looked into her eyes. The icy blue that always chilled and captivated his soul. He looked and he believed her promise.

But if he was right, they did not have few days…

When he demanded to speak with Daphne, he had two goals in mind. First was to obtain mercy for his friends. He had achieved that and more now that Daphne knew of Voldemort's true blood status and planned to oppose him. The second goal was to warn her about what he saw in his dreams… about the Elder wand.

Harry felt that the only chance for victory was not allowing Voldemort to obtain the Elder wand! Every instinct in his body was telling him that he must not let that happen. But there was a big problem with that idea.

'She'll never believe me...' he thought with bitterness and resignation. Convincing her that Voldemort was not pureblood was seemingly miraculous but ultimately logical because he had evidence for his claims. He only needed to present it to her and let her own intelligence work out the rest – another thing he admired about her.

But now he had to convince her that fairy tales were real! That Deathly Hallows were real and Voldemort was looking for them. And how could he possibly do that? He had no tangible proof. Would she just accept his word when he did not have a shred of evidence to back it up with? Why would she believe him when even his closest friends did not?

Hermione outright denied that the Hallows even existed and she was with him from the beginning. Ron was his first real friend but he eventually took her side too. In contrast, up until today Daphne Greengrass considered him her enemy and wanted to give him to Voldemort. He had no chance of convincing her when he could not even convince his closest friends.

And yet he had to try…

"Daphne… we do not have few days," he began. "There is something Voldemort is looking for and I fear he is about to find it very soon."

The pureblood girl frowned but gave him her undivided attention. "Explain."

Harry took a deep breath and said, "Have you ever heard of Deathly Hallows?"

In that moment, Daphne imagined thousand different things Harry might say… but not that. She wondered what the Hallows could possibly have to do with Voldemort. "Every wizarding child had heard of Deathly Hallows," Daphne answered his question in a deadpan voice.

Harry nodded. "Right… the Tale of the Three Brothers," he said and paused before saying, "But the thing is… it's not just a fairy tale. The Hallows are real!"

Daphne raised an eyebrow at his dramatic outburst. 'Of course they are real… what are you on about, Harry?'

He must have taken her expression as a sign of disbelief because he started to rumble desperately. "Please, Daphne! You have to believe me. The Hallows really exist and Voldemort is looking for them… he's looking for the Elder Wand! He must not get it!" he pleaded with her.

Daphne gasped and covered her mouth with her hand in shock as she suddenly realized the implications of what Harry was saying. Finally she spoke, "The fabled Elder Wand in Voldemort's hands. In light of what you told me about him, what we must do, this is a... terrifying prospect," she whispered tiredly.

To say that Harry was shocked at her reaction would be an understatement. "Wait, you actually believe me?!"

"About what?" she asked in genuine confusion. 'Does Harry think I am an idiot who never heard of the Hallows?' she thought with growing irritation.

Harry clarified by saying, "That the Elder Wand exists."

It made Daphne look at him even more curiously. "Of course it exists! The Hallows are well documented in history. They are perhaps as old as Magic."

Harry looked like he was about to jump up and down in joy as he realized she believed him. A big, relieved smile was plastered on his face.

"You look surprised," she quipped in understatement. "What's going on, Harry? Why assume I would not believe Hallows are real?" she demanded to know, mildly annoyed at his weird behavior.

"Well… no one does. I mean she said-" Harry blurted out in frustration before realizing he was speaking his thoughts out loud and he fell silent.

But his outburst was enough for Daphne to finally understand what was going on. "She? You mean Granger, don't you? She did not believe you that Voldemort is looking for the Elder Wand," she asked, the annoyance quickly replaced with sympathy. She knew from personal experience that dealing with Hermione Granger was hell but Daphne always assumed the mudblood girl acted differently around her friends. Could it really be she was just as insufferable with everybody?

Harry hesitated before he shook his head. "She insisted the Hallows are not real," he reluctantly admitted and then said with bitterness in his voice. "I tried to convince her for weeks without success."

Inside, Daphne was fuming as she listened to his admission and the obvious pain and regret with which Harry spoke it.

Daphne Greengrass did not think it was possible to be disgusted with Hermione Granger even more but the mudblood always managed to surprise her. "I am sorry," she said sympathetically and she meant it. During their talks, Daphne noticed the lack of self-esteem and self-worth that Harry Potter displayed in his words and actions. At first, she did not mind it because it made his interrogation much easier.

But now she wondered how this came to be. He has been a boy-who-lived since when he was a baby. Even if he was naturally a very modest person, he should have at least a little ego from that fact alone. So what happened to him? Could it be all due to the fact that he has been constantly exposed to Granger's badgering and bossiness for the past seven years?

Daphne seriously doubted that was the case. But what if it was? Perhaps she should have a little talk with her resident mudblood prisoner, no matter how distasteful that prospect sounded. So far, she has been satisfied with Hermione Granger imprisoned and no longer a threat but perhaps harsher measures were warranted.

Daphne turned her mind back to Harry. The fact he assumed that she, a daughter of one of the oldest pureblood families in the world, would not believe him that Hallows were real was as silly as it was disturbing. But perhaps it made sense. Harry Potter was raised by muggles. His friends were muggleborns and muggle-lovers. All he knew of the wizarding world and history was the version that Dumbledore allowed to be taught in Hogwarts.

"You can't really blame her for not believing you, Harry," Daphne finally spoke and Harry looked at her in surprise, obviously astonished that she was actually defending Granger to him. Daphne smirked and added. "The Hallows are the most ancient magic that goes all the way back to the creation of this world," she explained. "This makes them a complete anathema to her idiotic ideology of muggle and mudblood equality. She cannot possibly accept their existence because they are clear evidence that magical folk and muggles were not created equal."

Harry looked at her with tired but surprisingly firm expression. "She's my friend… and she's our equal, Daphne. The fact she does not believe me have nothing to do with her being muggleborn."

Daphne had to resist a sick grimace at the suggestion that Granger was their equal. "Then let me put it another way, Harry," she said in equally firm but calm voice. "Granger only learned about magic when she was eleven-years-old. Do you think it makes any sense to listen to her about something as ancient as the Hallows?"

"She's smart...she read..." Harry started to protest but Daphne interrupted him, "Yes, she read it all in the books," she said and sneered. "You realize that you could have read those books as well? In any case, why do you think she insisted the Hallows were not real, hm? Did she read a book which stated they were not real?!" she exclaimed loudly, hammering the point in.

It seemed to work as Harry looked at her with wide eyes and Daphne smirked. Clearly, Harry has not considered that. "I guess she just assumed," he finally said and Daphne nodded, feeling victorious. "She does that a lot, doesn't she? She walks through the magical world and she assumes," she said, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the last word.

Harry did not respond to that.

"Let me ask you one last question, Harry," Daphne said. "Wouldn't it make better sense to ask someone like me… someone who lived with magic her whole life… whose family lived with magic for more than two thousand years... than the girl who's only information are the few books she read in the last six years and her assumptions?" she spoke, pausing at each statement.

Harry looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It seemed he would not answer but at last, he did. "Maybe," he admitted.

Daphne smiled happily. Having Harry admit that Granger might not be the best source of information on everything was huge. That action alone endeared the boy to her more than she expected or liked. On instinct, she reached across the table to take Harry's hand and said, "I might not always do as you want. In fact, sometimes I will probably do the exact opposite of what you want," she said before looking him straight in the eyes. "But I would never dismiss your claims out of hand, Harry… not when it comes to magic."

Harry looked at her strangely but then he smiled and squeezed her hand gently as he accepted her pledge. "Thank you," he said gratefully but then added something that put a damper on Daphne's mood. "But Hermione is still my friend and I would appreciate you do not insult her. The only advantage you have is that you had more time to read more books, that's all."

Daphne let go of his hand. She was disappointed but not surprised by his words. A week ago, she would resent and punish him for such statement. But now that she no longer thought of him as her prisoner, she actually appreciated some backbone from him. It was also admirable how he defended his friend even though that friend was desperately unworthy of his loyalty in Daphne's opinion. Instead of getting angry, she decided to lighten the mood. "I think I have many more advantages, Harry," she said in flirtatious voice as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

The boy went red in face at that and she giggled at his reaction. But it worked to break the tension between them. "I am serious, Daphne!" he seemingly complained while displaying an amused smile of his own.

Daphne slowly stood up, pleased how his eyes followed her curves as she stretched her body after sitting for so long. "Come with me, Harry," she bid him to follow her, turning serious again. "There is something you should see before we discuss this any more."

Harry walked with Daphne as she led him through the opulent corridors of the Greengrass manor.

The guards followed them in a respectful distance like an invisible shadow. At one point, Harry offered her his arm. He had no idea what gave him that idea and he immediately assumed she would refuse, especially since she wore an expensive dress while he was clothed in what was essentially a prison garb. However, the pureblood witch didn't seem to mind and hooked her arm in his as they walked.

If someone told him this morning he would be walking around with Daphne Greengrass on his arm today, he would think them insane. And yet here he was and it was probably the best feeling he experienced in a long time. All other thoughts and concerns were put aside for the moment as he fully enjoyed the company of the beautiful blonde and their conversation.

"… so Peverells were not their creators?" he asked her after she told him the abridged history of the Hallows as she knew it.

"No, the Peverell family just happened to possess the individual Hallows in a short span of time so many assumed they manufactured them. But there is clear evidence of the Hallows being much older."

"How much older?" Harry wondered.

"No one knows but it is very possible that they are as old as the world," she told him mysteriously.

It was little hard for him to accept. "Are you saying they were really made by Death?" he asked skeptically.

Daphne shook her head. "More accurate to say that Death was created at the same time as the Hallows," she said and then asked. "How much do you know about wizarding version of the creation story?" she then asked even as they continued their walk.

"Nothing," Harry freely admitted. It no longer frustrated him as much to admit when he did not know about some aspect of the magical world. Especially since Daphne no longer sneered contemptuously at him every time it happened. Instead, she leaned closer and gently stroked his arm in comfort.

"It's ok," she said and explained. "The basic story is that the world, as it is, was for some reason made incomplete… imperfect. It is only by the will of the wizards and witches that the creation will be finished one day," she said and paused, letting him digest the story before adding. "And when it is finished, death will be no more."

Harry was captivated by it. He never heard anything like it before. "So the Hallows… they are meant to help with that?" he deduced and Daphne smiled at him approvingly.

"Exactly," she said. "The Hallows relate to that. The Elder Wand will be used to reshape the reality and when it is done, the Stone will bring back those who already died… anyway that's the story," she finished.

"What about the Cloak?" he asked, immediately thinking of his cloak of invisibility.

"There are several opinions on that," Daphne acknowledged. "The most common is that the Cloak will shield its wearer from the Elder Wand so that its wielder can study any changes they make without being affected themselves."

"Amazing," Harry said quietly, while deeply in thought. If the story was true, then he has been using magical artifact as old as the world just so he could wander the school corridors after curfew. How insane was that?

"Wait a minute!" the girl suddenly exclaimed and stopped their walk. Daphne let go of his arm as she looked at him with shock. "Your invisibility cloak… it's… is it…?" she gasped and Harry gulped down nervously. He was so immersed in the story and the fact that he was walking around with a beautiful girl on his arm that he did not even consider that Daphne would make that connection. On the other hand, did it really matter anymore?

"Yes… I think it's a Hallow," he admitted. "My father already had it when he was my age. Apparently it has been in my family for generations."

Daphne gaped at him for a while longer before she shook her head and sighed. "Why am I even surprised anymore? Is there no end to the wonders with you?" she asked even as she fixed a stray strand of her golden hair that fell into her face. Without breaking eye contact, she stepped closer and sneaked her arm seamlessly around Harry's again while the boy stared at her transfixed. "You should be careful or I might just decide to keep you forever, Harry Potter."

She said it in a teasing voice but here and there, Harry would have given anything for it to be true.

Daphne then pulled on his arm, breaking the moment and making him come out of the blissful haze. "Come, we are almost there," she said and he followed.

"Where exactly are we going?" Harry asked her after he realized they were heading to a part of the manor that he has not been to before.

"To the gallery," the girl simply answered which confused Harry. After all, this was not a time to be looking at pictures.

"Here we are," Daphne announced as they entered a relatively narrow but very long hall. Harry resisted the urge to gape as both its long walls were covered with magical portraits as far as he could see. 'So that's what she meant by gallery,' he thought. It reminded him of the headmaster's office in Hogwarts except many of the men and women in the portraits looked rather similar. Almost like they were...

"Our family gallery," Daphne announced with pride. She let go of his arm again and gestured at the room. "Almost a hundred generations of the House of Greengrass... you should feel honored, Harry. Few people outside our family get to see this," the blonde told him as they went inside. Harry felt quite anxious as all of the moving portraits gradually shifted their gaze at him. He felt like they were evaluating his worth and he resisted an urge to fidget nervously.

"How far does your family go?" he asked in amazement.

"Over two thousand years," the pureblood girl told him proudly. "All the way to the flight from Atlantis," she added almost absent-mindedly.

"Atlantis?" Harry asked uncertainly, having heard the term only few times.

"Magical island nation… and a long story," she briefly explained. "Suffice to say all the oldest pureblood families traditionally trace their origin to Atlantis in some fashion."

They went deeper into the room, walking by the numerous portraits. On each frame was a golden plaque, stating the name of the depicted person. Below it on the wall was another plaque with brief summary of their biography. It was surely an impressive place and Harry was beginning to understand why Daphne would put so much value into her magical ancestry. It really was something awe-inspiring when he thought about it. He did not think it made Daphne superior to those who could not boast of such a thing. But he could understand why she might feel that way.

Just when he was starting to wonder why she brought him here, he noticed something curious. Many of the portraits showed couples instead of one person. In which case, there were two names on the plaque. One of those caught his attention. It showed a stern looking blond man and a regal looking dark haired woman. The plaque said Burl Greengrass and... Edrea Potter.

He stopped in front of it. "Keep moving!" the guards hissed at him but Daphne turned and silenced them with a glare when she saw where Harry was looking. "She's a Potter," he said with fascination as he looked at a member of his family standing next to the Greengrass lord.

Daphne walked closer. "Yes, she is. Edrea Greengrass of Houses Potter and Greengrass and one of my ancestors. She lived in the eighteenth century," she said and looked straight at him. "I told you we were family."

Harry nodded. She did say it and he believed her. He knew most pureblood families were related in some way. But after all that happened, it simply slipped his mind. The woman in the portrait eyed him critically. "You are my brother's descendant, yes?" Edrea asked and Harry nodded with a gulp. "Hard to believe our great family was reduced to one halfblood wizard," she then added and frowned unhappily. She said nothing else.

Harry looked at her with surprise and wondered which part angered her more. The fact he was the last Potter or that he was halfblood? Were his ancestors also concerned with blood purity as Daphne is now? He was just reading Edrea's biography when the girl touched his arm to get his attention. "Come. I need to show you something," she told him.

They resumed their walk further down the hall. Based on the changing style of clothes of the people in the paintings, Harry had a feeling they were arranged chronologically. Eventually, they reached portraits which were not moving and looked like the normal, muggle-style paintings albeit of much greater quality and accuracy. "These are not moving," Harry noted out loud.

"Of course... that spell was invented only about five hundred years ago," Daphne explained. Harry did not know that. "So there are no talking portraits of the Hogwarts founders... or of Merlin?" he asked her. When he first came to Hogwarts and learned its history, he looked forward to seeing such painting. When he was told that no such paintings were known, he figured they must be hidden somewhere in the castle!

"There are not... at least real ones. And yet mudbloods and halfbloods waste time looking for them all the time. It is amusing, really," Daphne said and chuckled.

Harry sighed a little at that. He found it so easy and pleasant to talk with Daphne. It was clear to him she loved magic which was something they had in common. But every time he felt like he was having normal conversation with the girl, she said something that reminded him just how different their worlds were.

Finally they reached the painting Daphne wanted him to see. It showed a proud looking young man wielding a wand. The unmoving portrait captured him in a dueling pose with a bright green spell bursting from his wand. Harry had seen the spell enough times in his short life to recognize it as the killing curse.

"Here we are... Torsten Greengrass," Daphne said, pointing at the painting. "He was lord Greengrass in the twelfth century. He was arguably one of the most powerful wizards in my family's history. But despite that, I am not descended from him," Daphne explained, gesturing at the plaque. "He died young and never married. Greengrass family name was carried on by his younger brother."

Harry could see the dates on the plaque: 1416 – 1439. "He died so young," Harry noted even as Daphne spoke of him more. "He was murdered – his killer's identity never found out."

"Why are you showing me this?" Harry asked her. He doubted Daphne would bring him here just to show him an interesting bit of history. Or even to impress him with her wizarding ancestry. Harry looked carefully at the mighty looking man in the portrait and had a strong feeling there was something he was missing about the painting. Something very familiar. Did he see the portrait somewhere before?

"Look at his wand, Harry," Daphne told him next and then Harry knew for a fact. He gasped in disbelief. "Is that the-?"

"The Elder Wand," Daphne confirmed. "Torsten possessed it for few years before it was stolen from him by his killer. I have read his diary. That's why I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that the Hallows are real."

Harry focused on the wand which he now saw was done in amazing details. His heart started to beat fast and he felt like fainting it. "I have seen that wand before," he gasped. So many times, he has seen its wielder perform both mundane and extraordinary magic with it. He could not believe that he had one of the Deathly hallows in front of him all that time, not counting his cloak.

It was Daphne's turn to look shocked. "What?! Where?"

Harry briefly considered if he should tell her. He was worried of what Daphne would do with that information but he really had no choice. She was his only hope. And so he told her. "Dumbledore... that's Dumbledore's wand!"

Daphne took a few nervous paces as she digested that news. "Are you certain of that?" she asked skeptically.

"I am positive!"

"But I would have noticed if he used it," she at first insisted before closing her eyes and seemingly concentrating on something. "I can't recall what Dumbledore's wand looked like… at all," she finally whispered and frowned. "I bet he has put a perception filtering spell around it so people like me would ignore it."

"Well, I have seen it many times... and I know where it is now... but you-know-who is looking for it. He's getting close," he responded frantically and then told her, "You must help me!"

Daphne raised an eyebrow at him. "Do I? I like you Harry but do not take that tone with me," she warned him.

Harry swallowed his pride as he spoke next. "Daphne, please help me. If Voldemort gets the elder wand, he'll be unstoppable. And... I don't think you want that either," he finished and stared into her icy blue eyes, awaiting her decision.

"And how do you know that Voldemort is looking for it?" she then asked and Harry cursed inside his mind. "Right… I haven't told you that," he mumbled and then sighed as he explained about his dreams.

He expected she would burst out laughing or something but to her credit, she simply asked. "In your dream, were you watching the scene from a third-person… perhaps floating above?" she asked him seriously and Harry remembered Dumbledore once posing him almost the exact same question. "I was Voldemort," he answered truthfully and asked, "What is the significance of that?"

Two years ago, he asked Dumbledore for an explanation too but he did not answer him at the time. Fortunately, Daphne Greengrass was not Dumbledore.

"A third-person point of view would suggest prophetic vision or astral projection," she explained. "What you describe sounds more like a possession or a transplanted memory."

"That sounds right," Harry said and nodded. "I have been having these dreams since he came back."

Daphne looked at him with a pondering expression. "Will you show me?" she finally asked, slowly pulling out her wand.

Harry realized with some panic that she wanted to read his mind again. "Do I have a choice?" he asked, not looking forward to the experience.

"In this, yes," Daphne assured him.

Harry carefully considered it before he gave his consent. "Fine, go ahead."

She smiled gratefully at that. "Thank you," she said and then added. "It would be better if you got on your knees now."

"What?!"

"Well, you could fall down," the blonde witch explained with an innocent expression as she twirled her wand.

"Right," Harry said suspiciously even as he slowly knelt down on the floor at Daphne's feet. "Try to focus on the dream," the girl ordered and he did, pulling the memory to the front of his mind. After few seconds, she pointed her wand at his head. "Legillimens!"

It was much less painful than before. Focusing on what she wanted to see and not resisting in any way made the experience easier but it still felt like someone cracked open his skull and was using pliers to pull pieces of his brain out one at the time.

When it was over, he found himself back in the gallery, sitting on his knees and just about ready to fall over. Suddenly, he was glad that he wasn't standing up.

"Are you alright?" Daphne asked in concern, gathering her own wits after shifting through his memories.

"Fine," he muttered as he worked to regain his balance. "Do you believe me now?" he then asked.

"Oh, I believed you before," she assured and helped him to stand up. "I just wanted to see if there was some detail of your dream that could be useful," she said.

"Thank you," he said after she pulled him back up to his feet. Harry worked a kink out of his neck once he stood up. Mind probing always made muscles in his back tense. "Anyway, I am glad this was not just an elaborate deception to get me on my knees," he then quipped jokingly.

He hesitated when he saw her serious expression.

"I admit I enjoyed the sight," Daphne said and then added. "If you wish to kneel in my presence, you may do so. After all, you are a halfblood so it would be more natural and fitting for you," she told him haughtily.

"You… you," Harry gaped at the blonde's audacity before he noticed her cheek twitching and they both burst out laughing at the same time. "You had me for a moment," he admitted when they stopped and he regained his breath, realizing he had been pranked by Daphne Greengrass. 'Sirius would have liked her,' he thought. "You started it," she shot back but smiled in amusement nonetheless.

"So will you help me?" he finally asked, turning serious again.

"I will, Harry," she confirmed. "Our interests definitely align for the moment. They may for a long time. I don't want Voldemort getting the Elder Wand anymore than you do. So yes, I will help you."

He looked up at her with genuine gratitude. "Thank you... my lady."

Earlier that day, she forced him to address her with the honorific as a punishment but now it seemed like lifetimes ago. He did not know why he used it again but in that moment, it seemed fitting. After all, she was going to take a risk to help him when she did not have to.

"Oh, so you finally remembered I still did not return to you the privilege of using my first name?" Daphne said and smiled. "You are lucky I don't feel like punishing you for that, Harry Potter," she told him and took a step closer. She then extended her hand towards him. "Now thank me properly as befitting your station," she ordered with faint amusement, evidently building up on his earlier joke, her eyes flickering to her hand.

Harry knew what she wanted him to do. He was familiar with that pureblood custom from when he attended the Yule ball in Hogwarts. And he decided to indulge her. He took the offered hand in his. It was perfectly sculpted and beautiful with her nails painted white. He leaned over and placed soft kiss on her knuckles. He then straightened up and looked into her eyes as he said, "Thank you, lady Greengrass."

The pureblood girl flashed him a deeply satisfied smirk as he did. "You are welcome, Harry," she said. "And I insist you call me Daphne again."