CH33: The Messenger

November 28th

11:23am

Hogwarts, Scotland

Daphne

Daphne quietly groaned as she sat up in her hospital bed. She'd sustained no injuries in her fight with Harry, mainly because it was hardly a fight, more an assault on his person. However, being rid of the diadem's influence had left her with a splitting headache and she felt incredibly lethargic.

On a small wooden night stand beside her sat a dark purple potion in a small flask that the nurse had said should help for the headache. Side effects of possession were difficult to treat though, for the headache wasn't physical, but spiritual. Voldemort had hijacked her psyche and shattered years of mental fortitude that she prided herself on.

'How did it get so far?' Daphne chastised herself as she swallowed the vile liquid. 'How could I let it?'

Through the privacy screen a mediwizard that Daphne didn't recognise poked his head through a small gap. "Miss Greengrass you have a visitor."

'Dammit I'm fine.' Daphne squeezed her eyes in mild annoyance. "Please tell Astoria that she needs her rest more than I do."

"I'm not Astoria."

Daphne's instincts flared at the unfamiliar voice. In an instant she had her wand in her hand and a spell on her tongue. It was all for naught though, for there was no threat to her person. Weasley red was the first indicator, the fiery hair having become synonymous with the word 'ally.' However, Daphne had next to zero relationship with any of the Weasley's barring the twins and Wiliam so the Weasley in her room was a surprise.

"Hi," Ginny greeted awkwardly, "Harry sent me." When Daphne didn't respond for a moment, Ginny stepped into the curtained room fully "He said to tell you that Mad Eye roped him into a demonstration so he's going to be a little late."

"Thank you." Despite imbuing a good measure of dismissiveness in her tone, Ginny made no move to leave. "Is there something else?"

"Um yeah." Without invitation, Ginny dragged an armchair from the corner of the room over to the side of Daphne's bed and sat down. Ginny's averted gaze made Daphne braced for what was likely to be an uncomfortable conversation. "Harry also wanted me to talk to you about… well about what happened a few days ago."

'He told her?' Daphne sat a little straighter in an attempt to feel less vulnerable. "Of course, I understand you went through something similar in your first year?"

"If by something similar you mean opening the chamber of secrets and getting a great big snake to petrify muggleborns… then yes."

Usually, Daphne might've found the comment amusing. In fact, the nonchalant nature Ginerva spoke about the harrowing ordeal reminded her of Harry's sense of humour more than she cared to admit. However, so soon after having nearly killed him, humour wasn't something Daphne had an easy time finding within herself.

Unbeknownst to Daphne, all she'd replied to Ginny was an intense stare at a spot on the floor. With little to work with, the red haired girl spoke uncomfortably. "So, how did it feel… for you?"

"It didn't feel any different than usual." The revelation was a startling one and concerning. 'Am I still under his fist? Delirious, in a dream of his making?' Daphne had half a mind to pinch herself if she wasn't in unfamiliar company.

"Oh, that's weird."

"Weird?" If Ginny had the audacity to downplay Voldemort's manipulations so soon after the fact then Daphne had severely overestimated how much she liked the Weasley.

"Well yeah, I blacked out and woke up in bed with chicken's blood all over me."

'Better the blood of an animal than the blood of a friend.' Daphne turned away as she was confronted with the memory of Harry's betrayed expression once again. "Either way, I was a fool to trust it."

"I confessed my deepest darkest secrets to the twat, I think you did just fine."

'We are not comparable.' Daphne fought the urge to verbally point out that Ginny had been eleven and had no concept of the dark arts whereas Daphne herself had been party to the transference of a horcrux to a new vessel. "It was a weakness that nearly got people killed."

"Pfft."

"You disagree?"

"I watched you defeat five death eaters with broken pieces of my house." Ginny snorted unabashedly. "Weak isn't the word I'd use."

Ginny's casual dismissal came at less of a surprise that time, Daphne was beginning to see just how like Harry she truly was. "You're certainly a Weasley," Daphne said fondly, "and Gryffindor for that matter."

"Naive?" Despite the negative connotation behind the word, Ginny followed it with a smile.

"Direct." Daphne watched Ginny's smile widen as she thought to herself, 'even if it is naivety… to take words as they are given is a nice change after so much mistrust.'

"There's no point dancing around it, we went through the same thing." The two girls shared a look that only those who had lost control of their minds would understand. It was then that Daphne recognised a strength to the youngest Weasley that she hadn't seen earlier. Ginny's survival didn't make Daphne weaker, it simply meant Ginny's fortitude was to be admired. "And it is over now."

'It is,' Daphne's eyes were drawn to the bedside table where a vase full of lilies sat, 'thanks to Harry.'

"Oh don't give the prat all the credit," Ginny had noticed Daphne's gaze land on the flowers and correctly assumed what Daphne had been thinking. That, or she simply wanted to humble Harry. "I reckon Astoria was what really woke you up."

"I believe, Ginerva, you have a talent for speaking true." The corner of Daphne's lip upturned, the briefest of movements, but also the truest expression of happiness she had shown since losing her parents.

"Daphne, Ginny." For the second time in the space of twenty minutes, a guest in Daphne's hospital ward stood awkwardly at the entrance. Harry's eyes flicked between the two as he wiped his hands on his jeans.

'Nervous,' she observed.

Ginny looked between the two, even though Harry had greeted her as well, he only had eyes for Daphne. The redhead stood and sighed loudly, neither noticed. "I'll just let you two chat then."

Her exit did nothing to cut the tension between the child soldiers turned lovers. Memories raced through Daphne's head faster than she could process, thoughts entangled with feelings as the mind and heart fought to gain control of her actions. When times were tough, he was meant to be her rock and so she looked to him for answers. All that she could uncover was the concern written across his face in the Queen's English and that gave her direction.

"How are your fingers?" Even from across the room, she could see faint pink lines that traced the severance. Daphne praised her good fortune that she didn't use dark magic to cause the injury, lest he be maimed forever.

"They're healing well; can't even tell the difference." Harry flexed and twirled his fingers to support his point as he took the seat Ginny had left vacant. He took her hand and gazed worriedly into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm–" Daphne hesitated. It was an easy enough question for most, not so simple in Daphne's case. Barring the splitting headache she sported, one chat with Ginny Weasley wasn't enough to quell the psychological impact of having one's psyche hijacked. "I'll recover," she finally answered with an edge of determination. "Is Blaise… "

"Blaise is fine, a little confused, but fine nonetheless." Words caught in his throat so subtly that only the most perceptive would recognise the miniscule number of sounds as anything but an exhale. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I– I do." Daphne's grip tightened in Harry's hand as she closed her eyes. Visions of flame and blood flashed across her mind's eye. "That wasn't me," she whispered cathartically. "I lost my way," Daphne conceded, the death of her parents had thoroughly unbalanced her and there was no reason to deny it, "but that wasn't me."

"I'm sorry."

His words prompted her to open her eyes in confusion. She had betrayed the cause, she had mutilated him. What reason did he have to seek forgiveness?

"I should've told you about the vision, I just… I wanted to give you time to grieve." Harry looked away but she caught a glimpse of the intensity that had glazed over his emerald eyes. "We've lost so many and rarely did we get a chance to just stop and pull ourselves together."

"Har—" She tried to tell him that it was okay, that she understood, but he was having none of it.

"But I was afraid." Her shock compounded as he choked on his words. Daphne realised that it hadn't been intensity burning in those emerald eyes, but tears. "Afraid of losing this, of losing us." Harry squeezed her hand and managed to meet her eyes once more. "After everything we've been through, all that we've survived… it couldn't end like that, I wouldn't let it."

"It wasn't just you. The vulnerability, the shame..." As she said the words out loud, Daphne felt foolish for ever doubting that Harry would be anything but supportive. "I was afraid of how you would view me, it was my fear that brought us here."

"Daph—"

"I forgive you, for there is nothing to forgive."

Harry's entire posture relaxed as he let go and sank into the armchair. Daphne doubted he actually believed she wouldn't forgive him, yet she knew that her reliability as of late had been less than desirable. Despite that, she felt the need to ask more of him, to ask for an answer to a question that had been brewing in her mind for months.

'I must know, for mine own sanity.' Daphne reached forward and gently placed a hand under his chin. "Did you mean it, or did you just say it to—"

"I love you." Harry punctuated each word as he leaned forward again and pulled her hand into his. "You don't have to say it back, you don't have to feel it, you just have to know that I love you."

Daphne's mind was brought back to Harry's slip up in their old bedroom at the Black Chateau. She remembered how she didn't know if she could say the same at the time.

Though as she thought about them, Harry and Daphne, she was taken back further. The surety she felt when they were back to back, surrounded by foes on all sides. His selflessness and drive to protect those he cares about, no matter the cost to himself. His earnest eyes, free of judgement and contempt that bore into her soul and vanquished all of her doubt and shame. What she was willing to do to see him safely returned to her in spite of the heavy opposition. Daphne realised that the question wasn't 'if' she loved him, rather 'how' she hadn't figured it out sooner.

"What I feel for you," she eventually replied, "the word 'love' does not do it justice."

"Always have to upstage me don't you?"

Harry's smile ignited one on Daphne's face as well. The two leaned their foreheads on each other's and simply enjoyed the closeness that had been missing from their lives the past month. As one, they moved slowly into a tender kiss that displayed a softness they shared with only one another.

"From this point onward," she whispered after the kiss had ended, "no secrets."

"Agreed."

"Sir, ma'am," Daphne looked over Harry's shoulder and saw an auror she vaguely recognised had stepped halfway into the room already, "you need to see this."

"Enter," she allowed as she fixed her pillows behind her back to sit up straighter again.

Harry sighed in exasperation and shared a private look of annoyance with Daphne. "How many times do I have to tell you Bernard, use my damn name. I'm sixteen for Merlin' sake."

"Of course, Harry sir."

Auror Bernard walked nervously into privacy ward with a box the size of a picnic basket in his hands held at arm's length. The auror placed the box on the bed between Harry and Daphne and stood patiently beside them.

"What's this?"

"Inside, sir."

Harry reached out to open the box but Daphne was faster. Before his hand could connect with it, she slapped it away and sent him a look of warning. Sheepishly, he raised his hands and took a step back.

"Have you not learned your lesson?" Daphne collected her wand from the bedside table and used it to unlock a latch on the outside of the box. 'Oh gods, that smell.'

The roof of the box lifted slowly however the room was immediately filled with a horrible stench. Inside the box the walls were speckled with blood and from it came a foul stench. Harry flicked his wand and his magic floated a solitary object up. The contents of the box became apparent before could see the face, all she needed to see were the slick, greasy strands of hair that belonged to the late Severus Snape.

"A gift?" she speculated. 'Such derangement would no longer be a surprise.'

"A warning." Harry turned the head around so that she could see its face. Written across her old head of house's forehead were the words, one week carved into the Slytherin's flesh.

'How courteous.' Daphne looked to Auror Bernard and spoke with authority. "Leave us."

"Yes ma'am!" Auror Bernard rushed out of the room like his pants were on fire.

Daphne quietly groaned as she pushed herself out of the hospital bed. Harry was by her side in an instant with his hands supporting her arm and back each.

"Are you sure you're good to go?" he asked quietly.

His caring presence was appreciated but Daphne was done feeling sorry for herself. She lightly shrugged off his helping hands and steadied herself on his shoulder. Her joints were stiff from the bedrest and her head still ached something fierce.

'I have been ineffectual for far too long,' she thought as she took her hand away from his shoulder and stood on her own two feet. Despite the pain, physical and psychological, Daphne had never felt stronger because it wasn't just her. One half of a whole, Harry and Daphne were back, and the world was theirs to inherit.

"We face this threat together," Daphne firmly answered, "as we promised each other, as is right."

Author's Note

Here we go, the end of arc four. Again, yes, very late but that's just what happens unfortunately.

I always intended for Ginny to bond with Daphne over the horcrux issue. Mainly to include her in the story but also to set up something for the sequel.

Fortunately, this is the last we see of Snape as we move into the final arc named 'The Power He Knows Not'. I do want to say that I'll likely do it all in one go. I've tried the week by week updating schedule and I've found my work suffers for it. I like to jump between chapters and write where I feel most motivated to write and then make it a cohesive piece at the end.

In the long run, I do believe that means the story will be finished sooner as I'll be able to get chapters done faster on average.

Thanks for reading!

RevanchistVII