Chapter Four: Daphne

Hermione Granger quietly, but urgently knocked on the door, but there was no reply from inside. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited a few moments and then knocked again, slightly louder this time.

"Ronald!" she hissed through the door, but again there was no response from her redheaded friend.

Huffing in frustration, she pushed open the door and stepped into the bedroom, making sure she shut the door behind her. Though the morning was already half over, Ron Weasley was still fast asleep, sprawled out on his back with a hint of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Hermione shook her head and once again attempted to rouse him.

"Ron…Ron…Ron!"

"Whuzzat?" mumbled a bleary-eyed, but now mostly awake Ron Weasley.

"Ron, you need to wake up! We've got a letter from Harry!"

Ron rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Harry?"

"Yes, look!" said Hermione, as she thrust the letter in Ron's face.

He took the parchment from Hermione and quickly read through Harry's missive, his eyebrows shooting up as he neared the end.

"Bloody hell, he's left the muggles?"

"Yes, and he could be in danger! I know he says he's safe, but you know how Harry is — he always says he's fine, yet he constantly manages to find himself in dangerous situations."

"Calm down, Hermione," yawned Ron, clearly still in the process of waking up. "So, Harry's done a runner and he might be in danger. What are we supposed do about it?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and plopped down at the edge of the bed before snatching Harry's letter back from Ron.

"I don't know…" she muttered uncertainly, skimming through the letter again. "He made it perfectly clear that he didn't want us to tell anyone unless we absolutely had to, and listen to this part, '…but I'm sure you'll wind up taking Dumbledore's side over mine anyway'. He must be absolutely furious with us!"

"With us?" Ron asked in confusion. "What did we do?"

"Don't you see, Ron? It's what we didn't do. How many times has he written to us looking for information, or asking when he'd be able to join us?"

"A few, I'd reckon…"

"More than a few, Ronald! He's said something like that in every letter he's sent us this summer! And how did we respond? By ignoring his questions and sending back letters filled with useless twaddle. No wonder he's angry! Oh, I just knew this was going to happen — I knew he'd end up doing something rash if everyone kept ignoring him!"

"What were we supposed to do, Hermione? Dumbledore's orders and all, and you know Mum's been checking over our letters before we send them."

"Yes, but Harry doesn't know that. And even so…"

A guilty expression crossed Hermione's face, and for a moment it looked as though she was trying not to cry.

"…we could've figured out a way to answer him if we really tried. We've solved much more difficult problems than that in the past, but this time we simply didn't bother. I mean, there's even a muggle post box right across the street."

Ron cringed slightly. "Right, you've got a point there," he admitted. "Still though, it's not like we had much to tell him anyway. All right, he might be a bit hacked off at first when we see him, but he'll calm down once we've explained things."

"I hope you're right, Ron. It's just…"

"What?"

"Think about it from Harry's perspective," said Hermione. "Less than two months ago, he watched Cedric Diggory get murdered right in front of him, and then had to face that monster all by himself. And ever since then he's been stuck at home with his relatives, who aren't the most pleasant of people, going by Harry's expression whenever he mentions them."

"That's an understatement," scoffed Ron.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" he replied, suddenly uncomfortable. "I went with Fred and George to rescue him from there, the summer after our first year. His room was locked from the outside, and there were bars on the window."

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"Yeah...I didn't go inside, but Fred and George did. They had to grab his trunk from a cupboard underneath the stairs, and from what they could tell, it looked like Harry must've had to sleep in there when he was younger."

"Oh my god, I had no idea!" exclaimed Hermione, her eyes now pooling with unshed tears. "Those...those...animals! That does help explain some things I've noticed about Harry, but oh Ron, this just makes things even worse! He went through an extremely traumatic experience, and all summer we've done nothing but send him letters telling him how busy we are here, while he's stuck all by himself, living with those...people. He must feel like we've abandoned him, which is especially bad considering, well…"

"Considering what?"

"Well, considering what happened last year, you know...after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire," she replied awkwardly.

Ron's ears instantly started burning. "Right," he said quietly, looking down at the floor in shame.

"And now, on top of all that," continued Hermione, "he gets attacked by dementors at his own home, proving it's not safe there, and all anyone's told him was not to leave the house again, at least according to what Sirius told us."

"Blimey...Can't really blame him for running off, can we?"

"No, not really," agreed Hermione. "To make matters worse, Sirius also told me this morning that the Order is planning on bringing Harry here — tonight! What will they do when they find out he's gone? Should we tell someone about the letter?"

Ron rubbed his hand to his cheek and thought about it for a solid minute before silently coming to a decision. He took Harry's letter back from Hermione and read through it one last time.

"It's like Harry said, innit?" he said finally. "It all comes down to whose side we're on. Well, I don't know about you, but I learned my lesson last year, and from now on I'm on Harry's side. If he doesn't want us to tell anyone, then we won't."

"Are you sure, Ron?" asked Hermione worriedly, clearly torn over what to do.

"Yeah, I am," he replied solemnly. "I have a feeling things are going to get ugly soon. The adults won't say it, but you can see it in their faces. And whatever happens, you know Harry will somehow wind up in the thick of it, just like always."

"You're right about that," Hermione agreed with a watery chuckle.

"I say we keep our mouths shut, for now," said Ron. "If they ask us, we'll tell them that Harry says he's safe, but that's it."

"I don't like keeping things from Professor Dumbledore, but...I think you're right. Nobody knows Harry better than we do. If they'd just listened to us to begin with, Harry could have been here all along, and he wouldn't have been attacked in the first place."

Ron nodded gravely and used a nearby candle to set fire to Harry's letter.

"So, it's decided, then," stated Hermione, as the parchment went up in flames. "From now on, if push comes to shove, we support Harry no matter what — even if it means going against the adults."

"For Harry," echoed Ron, nodding in agreement. The pair then locked eyes for a few moments, neither of them able to escape the feeling that something monumental had just been decided.

oOoOoOo

"Now, why don't we all calm down and have a chat?" Harry stated coolly, his wand still trained on the blonde girl sitting on the floor.

"Give me back my wand, Potter!" Daphne growled back at him.

"I will, as soon as I'm convinced you won't attack us again."

"Attack you?" she spat incredulously. "I'm the one on the floor! And why are you even in my house in the first place? I should —"

"Daphne!" interrupted Astoria. "Please, calm down! I'm the one who invited Harry here. I promise we can explain everything, but you need to calm down and listen!"

Huffing in frustration, Daphne rose to her feet with as much grace as she could muster and adjusted her now slightly rumpled clothes, her eyes still narrowed suspiciously at the pair. "Well? Let's hear it, then," she said impatiently.

"First, are Mother or Father home?"

"Of course not," scoffed Daphne. "Mother will be spending the entire afternoon at the Fawleys' — planning some sort of soiree I'm sure — and I haven't seen Father in days."

"Good," sighed Astoria, relaxing slightly. "Let's go down to the guest cabin and talk, just in case one of them decides to come back."

"The guest cabin? Is that where you've been disappearing to lately?"

"I didn't think you'd noticed," replied Astoria glumly, clearly disappointed that her cloak-and-dagger operation wasn't turning out to be as successful as she'd believed.

"It's okay, Astoria," said Harry reassuringly. "There was always a chance this would happen." Addressing Daphne, he continued, "Yes, I ran into some trouble and Astoria offered to let me stay in your cabin for a while."

Daphne was obviously confused by the situation, and more than a little curious.

"How do you two even know each other?"

"Cabin first, please…" Astoria chimed in anxiously.

"Fine," agreed Daphne, rolling her eyes and holding out her hand with an expectant look on her face.

Harry cautiously handed back Daphne her wand, and the three of them began making their way back outside, Harry making sure he kept his hand on his wand and both girls in front of him at all times — just in case. They walked down to the cabin without speaking, giving Harry a chance to consider what might happen next.

It was definitely a good sign that Daphne was willing to at least hear them out. He didn't know much about her, only that she was a Slytherin and was also going into her fifth year, so he wasn't quite sure what to expect. The best he could hope for was to be allowed to continue staying there, at least until the hearing. If nothing else, Harry hoped she would at least keep his presence a secret, even if she insisted that he leave. The last thing he wanted was for Astoria to get in trouble for helping him.

After several minutes of walking in uncomfortable silence, they entered the cabin and sat down. Astoria and Harry occupied one of the sofas while Daphne took the one directly across from them, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands in her lap.

"Okay, here we are," drawled Daphne, the mistrustful expression still etched upon her face. "Now, let's start from the beginning."

They looked at each other uncertainly, both of them seemingly unsure of where to even begin. After a moment's hesitation, Astoria sighed and said, "For me, I suppose it all started about a week ago, when I first wrote to Harry," causing Daphne to look back at her sister inquisitively.

Harry and Astoria spent the next twenty minutes recounting, in tandem, all the events that had brought them to that point. Daphne listened carefully and asked very few questions, apparently holding her judgment until the end. Once their tale had been completed, Daphne sat back on the sofa and appeared to think about what she'd just heard for a minute, before finally speaking.

"Astoria, you have been incredibly foolish," she began in a low voice. "Did you even take a minute to think about how what you've done could affect our family?"

"Daphne —"

"No, it's my turn — now you listen to me. Writing anonymous letters of support is one thing, but actually inviting the Boy Who Lived to stay at our house? That can only go one of two ways; if he's lying about You-Know-Who being back, then he'll continue to be considered a pariah and targeted by the Ministry."

"Oi, he is right here, and I'm not lying!" Harry retorted angrily.

"That's even worse, Potter," she replied with a slight sneer. "Whether it's the Ministry who has it in for you or the Dark Lord himself, being seen as your ally is a dangerous position to be in right now. If word got out that our family helped you, then we could be targeted too! That's why you were foolish, Astoria," she said snidely, now addressing her sister. "You've potentially placed us at risk by assisting Potter, when there is virtually no benefit in doing so."

"It doesn't always have to be about what benefits us, sister," Astoria replied crossly. "Sometimes it's about doing the right thing!"

"The right thing for whom, sister?"

Sensing an incoming fight that he'd rather not be caught in the middle of, Harry stood and held up his hands placatingly.

"Listen, I don't want to cause an argument between you two," he started. "Yes, Astoria helped me when I had no one else to turn to, and I'll be forever grateful for that, but it's not like anyone else knows I'm here. Aside from you, the solicitor we met with today is the only one who even knows we're acquainted, and he's sworn to secrecy."

"And may I assume you intend to keep it that way?"

"Of course."

Daphne appeared to scrutinise him for a moment before nodding, although Astoria seemed somewhat irritated by the exchange. Harry sat back down at Daphne's invitation, as the elder sister apparently still had more to say.

"Here's the thing, Potter. I tend not to get involved in other peoples' business, including Astoria's. As far as I'm concerned, she — and everybody else, for that matter — is free to do as they please, as long as it does not negatively impact me, or the security of my family."

"I suppose that's fair," conceded Harry.

"I'm glad you agree. That's why I'm willing to ignore your presence here, although I have a few...conditions."

Astoria narrowed her eyes at her sister, but Harry simply gestured for her to continue.

"First of all, I should mention that I have little trouble believing that the Dark Lord has returned." At Harry's surprised expression she continued, "There was a clear shift in mood in the Slytherin common room, coinciding with the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Draco in particular seemed like he was practically bursting to tell everyone what happened."

"He would, the tosser. His father was there that night," grumbled Harry.

"I can't say that I'm surprised," said Daphne, and then looked at him with a slight gleam in her eye.

"I want to see it."

"See what?" asked Harry, clearly not following.

"Dumbledore claims that you personally witnessed You-Know-Who's return. I want to see your memory of that night — that's my first condition."

"Daphne, that's horrible!" shouted Astoria, but Harry barely heard her. He had gone slightly pale and slumped in his seat while absentmindedly rubbing his forehead.

Having to think about that night again was just about the last thing Harry wanted to do, but at the same time, it was a relatively small price to pay in order to secure Daphne's silence.

"When?" he croaked, and Daphne raised an inquisitive eyebrow in reply.

"When do you want to see it?"

"You don't have to do this, Harry," Astoria interjected, but Harry waived her off.

"It's okay, really. I suppose I can't ignore it forever, so we might as well get something out of it. So, when are we going to do this?"

"There's no time like the present," said Daphne. "Flopsy!"

There was a soft pop, and a house-elf appeared next to the table in front of them. Her name was well chosen, as her ears were so incredibly long that they flopped down around her shoulders. She also seemed much better cared for than Dobby did when he worked for the Malfoys. For starters, she looked much healthier, and instead of an old pillowcase she wore a clean, white towel embroidered with a large 'G' on the front, which was cinched at the middle with a piece of rope.

"How can Flopsy help Miss Daphne?" the elf asked in a squeaky voice.

"We need you to bring Father's Pensieve here to the cabin."

Flopsy gave a short bow and popped away, returning a few moments later carrying a large stone basin. She sat it down on the coffee table between the sofas and turned her eyes towards Harry.

"Is this being Miss Tori's friend?" the elf inquired.

"Yes, Flopsy, this is Harry — Harry Potter. Remember, it's really important that you don't say anything to Mother or Father about him being here," answered Astoria.

"I remembers, Miss Tori. Flopsy won't tell unless Master or Mistress specifically ask. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harry Potter."

"You too, Flopsy. Thank you for helping us," replied Harry, and then elf gave another small bow and popped away.

"Do you know what a Pensieve is, Potter?"

"Yeah, I've seen Professor Dumbledore's. I'm surprised you have one though, aren't they supposed to be really rare?"

"They are very rare. I'd be surprised if there were more than a dozen in all of Britain, but this one's been in our family for hundreds of years. Do you know how to extract the memory?"

Harry shook his head. He'd seen Professor Dumbledore do it once, but he'd never attempted it himself.

"It's fairly simple," Daphne informed him. "Just place your wand to your temple, concentrate on the memory you want to extract, and slowly pull your wand away."

Harry took a deep breath and did as Daphne instructed, and indeed, when he pulled his wand away there was a fine, silvery strand of memory attached to the tip. He held his wand just over the Pensieve and let the strand fall into the silvery substance within.

"Well, there it is. Assuming I did it right, it should start right before we touch the Triwizard Cup."

"Aren't you coming?" asked Daphne.

"I'd rather not."

"Fine. Are you coming, Astoria?"

The younger girl seemed torn. She looked over at Harry, who just shrugged as if to say, 'it's up to you', before looking away. Her curiosity won out in the end, and the two sisters entered the Pensieve together. Harry knew they'd be a while, so he sat back down on the sofa to wait.

He may not have gone into the Pensieve with them, but that didn't stop him from reliving the memory anyway. In his mind's eye he saw the flash of green and Cedric's lifeless body. He recalled the panic of waking up bound to a tombstone, and the horror he felt at seeing Voldemort rise from inside the giant cauldron. It was all coming back to him — the pain of Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse, his pathetic attempts to duel the Dark Lord, the jeering of the Death Eaters — and finally, his miraculous triumph in the battle of wills and the emergence of his parents' shades, allowing him to escape with Cedric's body.

The silence started getting to him after a while, so he got up off the sofa and started pacing about the room. Eventually, the girls pulled their faces out of the Pensieve and turned towards Harry. Daphne's face was ashen, while Astoria had tears streaming down her face.

The younger girl immediately ran towards Harry and hugged him around the middle, burying her head in his chest for good measure. Harry didn't have much experience dealing with crying girls, and being unsure of what to do in such situations, he settled for awkwardly patting her on the back.

"Morgana's tits, Potter," said Daphne, shaking her head. "I'm not sure what I expected, but that was…"

"Awful!" said the muffled voice of Astoria. She finally let go of Harry and stepped back, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. "I can't believe you stood up to that monster like that! It had to be the bravest thing I've ever seen," she added.

"And what was that at the end with your wands connecting and all the ghosts?" enquired Daphne.

"They weren't really ghosts," explained Harry, as he retrieved his memory from the Pensieve. "Dumbledore said they were more like...echoes. I don't fully understand it, but it has something to do with mine and Voldemort's wands sharing the same core."

Both girls winced when Harry said the name, but he chose to ignore it.

"So, now you've seen it," he said, directing his attention towards Daphne. "Do you agree to keep my staying here to yourself?"

"Almost, Potter. I have two more...requests…but for the first one, I'd like to speak with you privately." She turned towards her sister, "Tori, would you mind stepping outside for a moment?"

"Why?" she responded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with at the moment. I promise I won't hurt him."

Harry snorted and nodded to Astoria, and the girl reluctantly exited the cabin to wait on the veranda. Once the door was closed, Daphne approached Harry and stood close to him so she could speak more quietly.

"Do you know how many Death Eaters have children or relatives at Hogwarts, Potter?"

"At least Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott, but I assume there are others?"

"Several. Most of them are in my house, but certainly not all of them. Things are going to get dangerous, Potter. Do you remember what I said about involving myself in others' affairs?"

"You said you didn't, unless it affected you or your family."

"Correct — five points to Gryffindor," she smirked. "And as far as I'm concerned, my sister being involved with the one person the Dark Lord seems to have a particular interest in certainly qualifies."

With a sigh, Harry nodded and looked down at the floor for a moment before locking eyes with Daphne.

"I understand. I promise not to tell anybody that Astoria helped me this summer, and I'll make sure she knows that it's safer for her to stay away from me, once we're back at Hogwarts."

Daphne actually laughed out loud at Harry's statement, to the point where it took her a moment to recompose herself.

"Oh my, you really have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, Harry Potter," she chuckled. "Listen, I have known Astoria her entire life, and although she comes off as kind and sweet, she is by far the most stubborn person I know. She has very strong beliefs regarding what is right or wrong, and when she finds a cause, she dedicates herself to it fully. Even from the little I've seen today, it's clear to me that you are her latest cause."

"Me?"

"That's right. She's already decided that she's going to continue to support you — it's as plain as the nose on her face. We could both tell her to stay away, but she would just tell us we're being ridiculous and completely ignore what either of us says. Merlin himself could forbid her from speaking to you, and she'd just laugh in his face."

"Okay, yeah I can sort of see that."

"Trust me, Potter, I know my sister. We may not see eye to eye on everything, but she is by far the most important person in the world to me. That's why I want you to swear that you'll do everything in your power to protect her. I will still try to talk her out of it, but if she insists on hanging around you — which I know she will — I want to know that she's as well protected as possible."

"Of course," Harry said forcefully. "I would fight to protect any of my friends."

"That's good to hear, but can you really do it?" she said in a low voice. "When it finally comes to that point, will you actually be able to protect them?"

It was a fair question, but that didn't stop the anger from bubbling up inside of him. His dream from the night before leapt to the front of his mind, along with the feelings of helplessness and ineptitude. The image of Cedric's unseeing eyes flashed before him, quickly replaced by similar visages of Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and even Astoria. He couldn't let anyone die because of him — not again.

"I will," he said through gritted teeth, "but I have to get stronger. You saw the memory, so you know — up until our wands connected, he was taking me apart without even trying."

"True," nodded Daphne. "And just this morning, you knocked me on my arse before I even knew what was happening. I think we both have some work to do, if we want to survive what's to come."

"And I plan to, as soon as we get back to Hogwarts...hang on...you didn't see any owls while we were outside, did you?"

"What on earth are you talking about, Potter?"

"I used magic this morning — and so did you, by the way. That's why I have to go to a hearing at the Ministry in the first place, using magic outside of school. Why haven't we been sent any letters from the Ministry?"

"Are you serious, Potter? The Ministry can't detect underage magic in wizarding homes. Even if they could, they wouldn't do anything about it — the pure-bloods would riot."

"Typical," grunted Harry, rolling his eyes.

Daphne hummed in response, but otherwise ignored his comment. Instead, she offered a suggestion.

"Well, you're staying at a wizarding home for at least the next week. Perhaps you should use this time to practice?"

"That's a good idea," he said slowly, "but only when I know your parents aren't home."

"I'll let you know when it's safe. If fact, unless you're opposed to the idea, I suggest we practice together."

"Fine by me," agreed Harry, somewhat looking forward to the prospect. "What about Astoria? She could probably use the practice, too. She was already planning to find some books for me to study, even if I didn't think I'd be able to actually practice the spells."

Daphne hesitated for a moment, as if trying to choose her words carefully.

"Astoria isn't in the best of health." Seeing Harry's concerned expression, she continued, "It's nothing immediately life-threatening. On a normal day you'd never be able to tell, but she gets tired easily if she uses too much magic."

"Oh — I'm sorry to hear that," he replied, frowning slightly.

"It's all right, just don't mention it to Tori — she doesn't like it when people bring it up. And that actually leads me to my next question."

Harry looked back at her expectantly as her expression turned serious, but with a hint of mischief behind it.

"Do you intend to pursue my sister romantically?"

"W-What?" spluttered Harry. "No — I mean — we've only just met. I — I mean, I consider her a friend, but that's it!"

"Oh?" replied Daphne, somewhat sceptically. "And is Astoria aware of this?"

"I — er — it hasn't really come up."

"I see...well in any case, whatever does happen, promise me you won't break her heart. She's a sensitive girl. She cares deeply for those close to her, and from what I can see, you're quickly becoming one of those people."

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he simply nodded his head.

"Good," said Daphne. "Just remember those two things, Potter, and we'll get along just fine," she added, signalling for an obviously annoyed Astoria to rejoin them.

"It's about time!" she scowled as she came in through the door. "What on earth were you two talking about for so long?"

"Nothing to worry about, dear sister. Potter and I just needed to come to an understanding on a few things."

Astoria clearly wanted more details, but she also knew that Daphne wasn't likely to share. "So, are we done here?" she asked instead.

"Almost...I just have one last request."

"Go on then," Harry sighed resignedly.

"You let me ride your Firebolt," replied Daphne, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

After the fairly heavy subject matter related to her other conditions, Harry certainly hadn't been expecting that. Satisfied to finally have something useful come from lugging his broom all the way to Appleby, he readily agreed.

"Okay, I'll agree to that, but I have a condition of my own."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, stop calling me Potter all the time. It reminds me too much of Malfoy, and I get enough of that prick at Hogwarts."

For the first time, Daphne offered him a genuine smile. "You've got yourself a deal, Harry," she replied.

"Great — it's in the back bedroom. Don't hurt yourself."

Daphne walked briskly down the hallway and reappeared a few moments later, Harry's Firebolt in hand. "I'll leave you to it then," she said as she passed them by, and in a flash, she was out the door and airborne. Harry could've sworn he even heard her whoop in excitement as she took off, which was a stark contrast to the otherwise stoic demeanour she'd demonstrated up to that point.

"Daphne loves flying," giggled Astoria. "She doesn't get to do much of it at school."

"Why not?"

"Well for one, girls almost never get invited to join the Slytherin Quidditch team, but never mind that. What were you two talking about in here?"

"There's really not much to say," answered Harry as he rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to deflect her question. "We did agree to practice spells together while I'm here. I didn't realise the Ministry couldn't detect underage magic in wizarding homes."

"Oh...I probably should have mentioned that. Yes, the enchantments around homes like ours mess with the Trace. Even in smaller homes, the Ministry usually just assumes that any magic they detect is being done by an adult. They leave it up to parents to enforce the rules."

"I'm sure they're all very diligent," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Not so much," she snickered, before changing the subject. "Are you hungry? Daphne knows you're here now, so why don't we have Flopsy bring us something so we can eat together?"

Harry agreed, and Astoria summoned their house-elf, who took their lunch orders before returning Mr. Greengrass's Pensieve to the study.

"Oh! Before I forget, I got something for you whilst I was doing my shopping this morning."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"Well, I noticed you didn't have many clothes, with you being on the run and all, and I thought you should have something smart to wear for your hearing. So, I popped into Madam Malkin's and picked you up a few things."

"Really?" he asked, feeling slightly ashamed. "You didn't have to do that."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all! I do hope they fit, though — I had to guess at the size a bit."

His clothes had always been a bit of a sore spot for Harry. As much as he hated them, he'd grown used to wearing Dudley's cast-offs, so he didn't often think about it. That being said, there were times when his lacking a proper wardrobe would become a source of embarrassment — his meeting with the solicitor being a prime example, and the current conversation being another — although, he had to admit that Astoria made a valid point about his hearing.

"Well...thanks," he said, a bit sheepishly. "I don't have much gold with me, but I'll be sure to pay you back as soon as I can get to Gringotts."

"If you feel like you absolutely must pay me back, then I won't argue," she replied empathetically, "but I'd very much prefer it if you'd just accept these as a gift. I have plenty of money, and it really was no trouble."

Harry opened his mouth to decline her offer, but the look on her face stopped the words from coming out. Her eyes told him that she honestly meant every word she said, and there wasn't even a hint of judgment or pity in her expression. He sighed internally — there was just something about Astoria that made it impossible for him to say no to her, and on some level, he couldn't help but wonder if that might get him into trouble someday.

"Well, if you insist...thank you, Astoria."

She just smiled sweetly at him and led him into the kitchen, where Flopsy served them lunch. It was by far the most enjoyable meal that Harry had experienced in a very long time.

oOoOoOo

Albus Dumbledore was worried.

He stood at the head of the long table situated in the basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place — which was currently serving as the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, the very organisation he had formed to combat Lord Voldemort during his first rise. As the members of his Order hurriedly gathered in the dingy room, Albus reflected on the events of that eventful summer and wondered how much of it could have been avoided.

Cornelius Fudge's reaction to the news of Lord Voldemort's return was fairly unsurprising — the man had grown far too comfortable in his position of Minister and had been beholden to Lucius Malfoy for far too long. Albus had anticipated that Cornelius might enact a smear campaign against him through the media, but he had not expected Harry Potter to also become a target. He could only hope that young Harry would handle the pressure as well as he had the previous year, during the Triwizard Tournament.

The wizened headmaster shook his head while absentmindedly stroking his beard.

Harry Potter...the boy had been through quite a lot during his young life, and it seemed as though he would not be getting a reprieve this year. Albus knew that danger tended to follow Harry, but even he had never anticipated that dementors would turn up on Privet Drive. It was certainly surprising that they were actually able to enter the house, a fact which had prompted him to re-evaluate many of his recent decisions — his reliance on Mundungus Fletcher being one of them.

Seeing that everyone had finished gathering, Albus cleared his throat and addressed the room.

"Good evening, everyone," he began in a tired voice. "Thank you all for coming. I am afraid there has been a rather worrisome development regarding young Mr. Potter. Alastor, would you please tell everyone what you just told me?"

Mad-Eye Moody nodded and rose to his feet, scanning the room with his electric-blue magical eye.

"As you lot already know," began the grizzled ex-Auror, "tonight's mission was to extract the Potter lad from his relatives' house and bring him here to headquarters. The extraction team was made up of myself, Shacklebolt, and Tonks, along with Lupin, Vance, Podmore, Dedalus, Doge, and Hestia Jones. As planned, we lured the muggles away for the evening and entered the house, but Potter wasn't there."

The room exploded into conversation, and Sirius Black stood up and slammed his hands on the table.

"What do you mean he wasn't there?" he shouted over the din.

"You heard me, Black," responded Moody. "We checked his bedroom, and while the state of the place raises some questions about his living conditions with the muggles, there was no sign of a struggle or anything that would suggest kidnapping. His school trunk was still there, but we couldn't find the high-end broomstick I was told he owns. The window was also open, and his owl wasn't in her cage."

"So, the brat's run away — how predictable," offered Severus Snape, his face displaying the familiar sneer that so often materialised whenever the son of his one-time school nemesis was mentioned.

"Shut up, Snape," growled Sirius. "While you're in my house you will keep your opinions on my godson to yourself."

"Gentlemen!" interrupted Dumbledore, before Snape could retort. "We have more important things to discuss — the foremost of which being how we intend to find Harry."

Sirius looked like he wanted to hex Snape into oblivion, but he sat back down.

"But where could he be, Albus?" asked a tearful Molly Weasley. "Could You-Know-Who have gotten to him?"

"That is what we are trying to discover, Molly. Severus, do you have any reason to believe that Voldemort is behind Mr. Potter's disappearance?"

"I am unaware of any plans to kidnap Potter," the Potions professor stated flatly. "As I have said before, the Dark Lord is currently taking advantage of the Ministry's refusal to acknowledge his return, in order to make plans and prepare his forces."

"I see," replied the headmaster. "I trust that you shall inform us if you learn otherwise?"

"Of course, but I do not expect to. The Dark Lord was enraged by Potter's escape on the night of his return. Any revenge he takes will quickly be made public, and such an act would not align with his goals at the moment. No, it's clear to me that the boy has run away — it is exactly the type of behaviour I'd expect from the arrogant brat."

Sirius launched to his feet and drew his wand, an action mirrored by Snape.

"Sirius, sit down; Severus, that is enough!" commanded Dumbledore in a booming voice, the power behind it enough to make both men comply, although they were still glaring daggers at one another. Remus placed a calming hand on Sirius's shoulder to try and get the man to relax.

"While I certainly do not agree with Severus's characterisation of Harry, I concede that it is possible he left on his own accord, perhaps even likely," voiced Dumbledore. "The attack on his home by dementors was doubtlessly unnerving."

"He must have been terrified, but why would he leave?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "Surely he knew we would be coming to take him away from there?"

Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before speaking.

"I am afraid that Harry had no way of knowing that for certain. I fear that my instructions not to provide Harry with information may have been an error. It has become increasingly clear that I have made several of those lately, particularly in regard to Mr. Potter."

Remus and Sirius looked at each other knowingly before the latter's eyes narrowed towards the headmaster. "You didn't tell him you were coming to get him?" he pressed.

"Harry was advised not to leave the house, but no more than that."

Sirius stood up and started pacing around the room and grumbling under his breath, clearly displeased.

"There are only so many places he could go. Is it possible he flew all the way to the Burrow?" suggested Remus.

"If he did, he hadn't arrived by the time I left there this evening," said Arthur Weasley, shaking his head. "Perhaps we should make sure one of us is always home for the time being — just in case he turns up there."

Dumbledore nodded gratefully at Mr. Weasley. The Order sat and contemplated the situation for a few moments, until the deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt broke the silence.

"Is it possible the muggles did something to him?

"No, I do not believe so," Dumbledore said confidently. "I sent his aunt a rather stern reminder of her obligations shortly after the dementor attack, and their fear of wizards would almost certainly prevent them from doing anything rash."

"Well, the lad won't get far without help," grunted Mad-Eye. "Is there anyone out there he trusts?"

Dumbledore thought about it for a moment, then turned to address Mrs. Weasley.

"Molly, would you be so kind as to invite your youngest son and Miss Granger to join us?"

"Of — of course," she replied shakily, and then hurriedly left the kitchen to fetch the two teens. While they were waiting, Dumbledore conjured a comfortable looking armchair for himself and sat down with his hands folded in front of him.

Mrs. Weasley returned a few minutes later with Ron and a nervous-looking Hermione in tow.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, thank you for joining us," greeted Dumbledore, as he stood up once more and vanished the conjured chair. "I do not wish to alarm you, but it appears that Harry has left his aunt and uncle's home, and we cannot presently account for his whereabouts."

Ron and Hermione subtly glanced at one another but otherwise showed very little reaction. Dumbledore briefly closed his eyes and nodded his head, the meaning behind their interaction clearly not lost on the headmaster.

"I see from your reactions that this news does not come as a surprise. I take it that you have heard from Harry?"

The teens appeared to have a silent conversation. Ron nodded to Hermione, who then turned towards the headmaster and replied, "Yes, Professor. He wrote to tell us that he left his relatives' house, but that he was somewhere safe and not to worry."

"He what?" shouted Mrs. Weasley, rising to her feet. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Harry asked us not to," Ron informed his mother, who appeared shocked that they had withheld information from them. Sirius, on the other hand, laughed in relief and plopped back down in his chair.

"Sirius! This is no laughing matter! The boy is out there, by himself, with no one to protect him! We need to find him, right away!"

"Thank you, Molly," said Professor Dumbledore placidly, attempting to calm the Weasley matriarch before turning his attention back to the teens.

"I understand that Harry asked you not to tell, but now that we do know he has left his home, I must ask you — did Harry say anything that might indicate where he went, or what he was doing?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but that's all we can say," said Ron in response.

"Ronald Weasley, you will answer Professor Dumbledore's questions at once!" shrieked Molly, causing those sitting nearby to flinch.

"That's quite all right," sighed Dumbledore. "I shall not ask either of you to break confidences. I only ask that you let us know immediately if you suspect he might be in danger. I must admit that I am curious whether he mentioned his plans regarding his hearing…"

Hermione glanced at Ron, who just shrugged, so she answered, "Harry didn't say where he was, but he did mention something about preparing for the hearing, so I suspect he will be there."

"Very well," the headmaster said resignedly. "Then we shall aim to bring him to headquarters at the conclusion of the hearing — that is, if we cannot locate him beforehand."

"No! I don't care what Harry said, you need to tell Professor Dumbledore everything, right now!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "I am very disappointed in you two! How dare you keep secrets when Harry could be in danger?"

"I don't know what you're yelling at us for," Ron shouted back at his mother, his face reddening slightly. "It's your all's fault Harry left in the first place! Keeping him locked up with those muggles all summer, even after he had to fight bloody You-Know-Who. That'd drive anyone mental!"

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was about to explode, but then Hermione chimed in to back him up.

"Ron's right. We did tell you that keeping him in the dark was a bad idea, but no one would listen! Harry's never been one to sit idly by, but for some reason you all seem to have expected him to just stay put in the house where he'd just been attacked."

Most of the Order looked around guiltily at one another, while Molly Weasley just sat there gaping at the two of them with a look of confusion on her face.

"Think about it! When has Harry ever been able to rely on adults?" said Hermione, continuing her rant. "He's been forced to live in a house with people who hate him," she spat, glaring at Dumbledore, "and who have apparently starved him and put bars on his windows. Nobody would listen to us about the Philosopher's Stone in our first year, and Harry ended up having to face Voldemort all by himself!"

"Yeah, and in our second year, it was Hermione who figured out it was a basilisk petrifying people," Ron chimed in.

"And who had to deal with it? Harry, of course! Again!" scoffed Hermione. "And that was only after a teacher tried to Obliviate both his and Ron's memories!"

The members of the Order who were not familiar with the trio's adventures looked around at one another in shock, while Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged guilty looks.

"Two years ago, Sirius would've been kissed by dementors if it weren't for Harry! Why is he always the one who has to risk his life, Professor? Why?" demanded Hermione, angry tears streaming down her face. "Last year, he was entered in that blasted tournament, and the only adult who lifted a finger to help him ended up being a Death Eater in disguise!"

Moody started grumbling under his breath, although he nodded approvingly at Hermione's point.

"That same Death Eater managed to fool everyone — people who actually knew Professor Moody — for an entire year! Not one person noticed something was off, and then he went and arranged for Harry to be kidnapped and brought to Voldemort!"

Several of the Order members flinched at the Dark Lord's name, though none of them had any rebuttal. Mrs. Weasley had begun to cry, and both Sirius and Lupin were wearing looks of shame. Shaking her head, Hermione wiped her cheeks in frustration and continued.

"After all this, after seeing a boy killed right in front of him…after having to face him all alone, again, and somehow managing to escape, again — what did you do? You locked him away in a place where he's unwanted and refused to tell him anything. He's attacked in his own home, and once again, he's left to handle it all by himself. Well, I for one don't blame him for leaving. How could Harry possibly believe that the adults in his life were looking out for his best interest, when they've done nothing but fail him time and time again?"

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and Ron put a comforting arm around her shoulder while the Order just sat there in stunned silence.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. I freely admit that certain recent decisions regarding Mr. Potter may have been handled poorly," conceded Dumbledore. "Rest assured that I shall be doing my best to make amends in the near future. You may go."

As soon as Ron and Hermione left, the room exploded into conversation as the Order members discussed Hermione's accusations or confirmed the accuracy of her statements with others. Dumbledore, on the other hand, appeared contemplative. Sighing heavily, he once again conjured a seat for himself and called the room to order.

"Regarding Mr. Potter, we will continue to keep an eye on the area surrounding Privet Drive for the time being. I also ask for volunteers to patrol Diagon Alley, just in case Harry happens to turn up there. However, knowing Mr. Potter's resourcefulness, I very much doubt we will see him until the morning of his hearing. I myself will be in attendance that day, and I shall bring him here afterwards. Now, I believe there are other items on this evening's agenda. Severus, your report?"

Snape launched into a droning account of the Dark Lord's recent activities, but Sirius wasn't paying him any attention. Instead, his thoughts were focused solely on Harry. His feelings were torn between worry for his safety, pride at his friends' display of loyalty, and deep regret at his own failure to support his godson. The irony of him listening to Dumbledore and advising Harry to keep his head down and stay put was also not lost on Sirius, and he had a feeling it wouldn't be lost on Harry either. Sirius knew that he had a lot to make up for, and he had every intention of doing so.