Harry was walking towards the headmaster's office with a skip in his step and considered himself lucky that they would not be practicing occlumency this evening. He doubted he could banish the thoughts of what had transpired the previous evening between himself and Daphne if he wanted to, and truth be told, he really didn't want to banish them.

He had been confused when she had asked him to stay behind following their DA meeting and even more confused when she had started talking about what she'd heard about him and how he had been different than what she was expecting.

It was when she finally got around to attempting to explain her feelings that it had finally clicked for Harry. The way she couldn't put words to her emotions and her nervousness had been mirrored in himself just a few hours prior and he realized in that moment that she felt the same way he did.

Before he could allow himself to fall into self-doubt, he had summoned his Gryffindor courage and kissed her chastely. He had heard all of the cliches of a first kiss being like 'a burst of light' or feeling 'a spark' and Harry wouldn't say he felt anything like that. Instead, he had felt at ease. For the first time since Harry had ridden in a rickety boat across the lake and seen Hogwarts, he felt like he had found somewhere he belonged.

She had fit perfectly in his arms and her scent, citrus and something he couldn't quite place, was inebriating. Only when he had realized he needed to come up for air did he pull back to look at her. Her eyes had been half lidded, but her pupils wide and her lips lightly swollen. She had licked her lips and Harry had to physically stop himself from immediately diving back in to the kiss.

When she didn't hex him, he tried his luck and told her he felt the same way, and then they were kissing again. He couldn't remember who initiated the second kiss, or the third or fourth for that matter, but after the most blissful ten minutes of his young life she had pulled back and said that as much as she wanted to continue, they should get going before they were late. Harry thought that was a stupid idea, but his bloody prefectorship and sense of nobility led to him agreeing.

So instead he had walked her to the dungeons, insisting despite her protestations that he didn't need to, while cursing himself for not bringing his cloak. As they walked, he thought the air around them might be uncomfortable or awkward following their recent intimacy, but it was the opposite and they walked with a silent contentment as Harry held her hand intwined in his own and she leaned against his arm.

As they neared the entrance to the Slytherin common room Daphne turned to face him, stood on the tips of her toes, and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him down into one last languid kiss before breaking it and telling him, "Now that we're doing this, I want one of those jerseys the Weasley's have been selling." Harry wanted to respond in the affirmative but was cut off with another quick peck and then she disappeared into her common room, leaving him standing in the hallway with a grin that he was sure was lighting up the dark castle.

He had made his way to Gryffindor Tower practically skipping. When he arrived, it was mercifully emptied, and he was thanking his lucky stars that Hermione had chosen to forego her usual post DA meeting with him in favor of getting to bed.

He eventually was able to calm his mind and fall asleep, waking the next morning and wondering if he had imagined the encounter or if it had been an incredibly realistic and fantastic dream, but it had all been true. She found him after breakfast, and they spent their morning together in the library working on their homework while stealing glances and the occasional kiss when they were sure no one was looking.

They had foregone lunch in favor of visiting the kitchens and eating there before finding Astoria for flying practice. Tracey, whom Harry was sure had known about the previous night's happenings, had insisted on joining them and they had all flown around the pitch together with some good-natured teasing coming out from the three Slytherins which Harry returned in kind.

Astoria had spent the entire time asking for tips and tricks and eventually Harry had switched his attention to her, showing her a variety of moves and techniques which she took in as hungrily as their defense lesson the previous evening.

After a few hours Astoria and Tracey had left them and Harry and Daphne stowed away the brooms before Harry took her hand and placed a warming charm over them both as they took a walk around the lake. As the sun dipped and the charm wore off, they grew colder, but rather than reapply the magical warmth they cuddled closer together.

Harry spent the walk telling her about his first year and the philosophers stone, leading to the trio's final adventure going through the magical obstacles and his first time facing Voldemort. Daphne had clung to him as he explained what he had endured as just an 11-year-old, and he found that retelling some of his past trauma was much easier when a pretty girl was hugging him.

By the time the story had finished the sun was nearly set and they had nearly made it back to the entrance hall. Harry had regretfully told her he wouldn't have time to walk her to the dungeons, but she had told him not to worry and given him one last kiss before they separated.

As Harry finally approached the headmaster's office, he tempered his smile and after a whispered word and a short ride up the staircase, Harry found himself in the headmaster's office for the first time since hearing the prophecy. Remembering the prophecy sobered his attitude quickly and Harry remembered that despite all of the good that had happened in the last two days there was still something bigger and more important at stake.

"Harry, it is good to see you. I trust you've had a restful weekend?" Dumbledore asked him.

Harry fought back a blush, "Yes, sir. It's been one of the better ones this year, definitely." He answered hoping his face didn't betray his emotions.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "I'm glad to hear that, a rested mind is always the most capable of learning I've found." He replied with a smile. "Now as you know we will be continuing your occlumency training, going over advanced spell work including theory and practical magic, and diving into the life and history of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. Please sit." He gestured to Harrys usual chair, and he sat.

"We will be adding a second lesson per week and alternating lessons. Today we will begin with memories I have procured over the years as I looked for answers pertaining to Voldemort's demise and recent return. On Thursday afternoon we will begin with advanced defense, charms, and transfiguration. I will expect you to read the first 3 chapters of each of these books," Dumbledore pulled out three ancient tomes, each the size of his history of magic book. "and to have a working understanding of the information as well as to have at the least attempted the practical aspects of the magic."

Harry looked at the tomes excitedly. He was actually being tutored by one of the greatest and most powerful magic casters in history. "I understand this will be much given your current workload as a prefect and student, but I will stress to you that while I hope this does not hinder your performance, this is much more important."

"I agree, sir." Harry responded. "I realize I have a lot going on, but I promise I'll make the time. If it becomes too much, I can always drop my extra rounds with Daphne, or even the quidditch team." Harry said, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice at the prospect of losing two of the things he enjoyed the most. He knew this was most important, but it still stung slightly.

"That's very mature of you Harry, but I will remind you of what I said last week at Grimmauld place. If our sole focus is on not dying, we forget to live. Continue with the things that bring you joy, and I will ensure that I do not add too much to the weight on your young shoulders." He responded, and Harry felt happy to hear the reassurance.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Now before we begin, I must admit to you Harry, that everything I know for a certainty I have shared. From this point onwards we will be dabbling in conjecture and theories." His tone shifted and his eyes took on a determined glint. Harry could see the fabled power of Albus Dumbledore bubbling underneath the surface.

"You will find that the probable truths concealed within are grim and disturbing, but we must know them to fully understand how we may oppose Voldemort successfully." He continued.

"As I mentioned previously, we will be looking at a series of memories and histories pertaining to the life of Voldemort. We will be going through these memories at a faster pace than I originally intended, and this is because I will have an excursion for us to undertake during your winter holidays which will begin in just under a month.

"If this excursion is successful, we may begin the war against Voldemort in earnest, weakening him without him realizing and before he has the resources or manpower to truly combat us." He said and Harry could sense just how badly Dumbledore wanted this.

"The ministry has chosen to pretend nothing is amiss and bury their head in the sand as to remain oblivious to the happenings around them. While this is frustrating because their lack of preparation will likely come at the expense of lives later down the road. It is also a benefit to us." He said.

Harry nodded but was unsure just how this was benefitting them. "Dumbledore seemed to sense the hesitation, gave him a kind look, and explained. "As long as they are willing to pretend he doesn't exist, Voldemort is acting in kind. He is working in the background to gather allies and supplies, but this means we can get the majority of our work done now as well without being hindered greatly by either side."

Harry nodded again, this time actually understanding. "I see." He said. "The longer both sides pretend the other doesn't exist the more time we have to get our work done mostly undisturbed."

"Precisely, Harry. Now," he said as he rose from his seat, making his way to the far table and selecting one of the labeled vials and the pensieve. "We will begin our evening with a tour down Bob Ogden's memory." He finished as he sat down and uncorked one of the bottles, pouring its contents into the basin.

"Who was Bob Ogden, sir?" Harry asked as the memory flowed silver and grey in the stone.

"An investigator employed by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement many years ago. He passed long ago, but not before I was able to speak to him and have him agree to sharing his memories with me." Dumbledore said looking at Harry.

"Now if you would be so kind to join me, let us accompany him on a visit he made many, many years ago. After you, Harry."

Harry took a deep breath and steeled himself. After another moment he plunged himself into the pensieve. The feeling of falling in every direction all at once overtook him before he landed firmly on his feet.

The dimly lit office he had just been in was replaced by dazzling sunlight and Harry had to blink a few times to adjust his eyes. As he was finally able to make out shapes and colors Dumbledore appeared next to him.

As the scene came into cleared view, Harry could make out what appeared to be an old road somewhere in the countryside. There was a plump short man standing 10 meters in front of them reading a sign that said Little Hangleton, 1 mile pointing in the direction ahead of them. Underneath it had another sign that read Great Hangleton, 5 miles pointing in the opposite direction.

He was dressed in an odd, mismatched array of muggle clothing indicative of a wizard attempting to fit in and Harry knew this must be Mr. Ogden. He adjusted his glasses and then began to walk briskly towards the direction indicated by the sign for Little Hangleton.

And so, the memory continued. Harry and Dumbledore followed the man to a hut surrounded by trees and overgrown with moss and weeds.

They watched as Mr. Ogden was accosted by a man who looked somewhat like a monkey speaking parseltongue. Morfin, as Harry would learn he was called, sent a curse Mr. Ogden's way that caused his nose to spew out a thick yellow goo.

They saw an older man who also looked slightly misshapen come out and send his son inside. Harry noticed that he seemed very interested in blood status and felt a swell of pride when Mr. Ogden had commented that his blood status "is neither here nor there."

After a moment of conversing, they went inside the hut where a third individual was residing. Harry's heart broke at the blatant physical and verbal abuse that Merope was suffering at the hands of her father, the person who was supposed to love her.

Harry's memories drifted to his own time at Privet Drive. While the abuse had seldom been physical, he had often had to endure taunts and verbal degrading that had left him as nervous and scared as Merope seemed to be when she dropped the pot, breaking it and causing a mess.

Harry had wished he could clean up the mess for her and repair the pot, but thankfully Ogden did it instead. She didn't even thank him, choosing instead to fade away into the background.

The tension in the room had grown considerably and had reached a boiling point when Ogden had stated he was here to summon Morfin. The older gaunt man had started screaming about bloodlines and asking Ogden "You think we're some kind of scum you can just summon whenever you please? Like some muggles?"

He had showed off a ring then before dragging his daughter by the necklace wrapped around her throat. "Family heirlooms" he had called them. Screaming that they were above being summoned like common filth. Harry thought that they had a very distinct aura of filth, but held his tongue as he watched the interaction, a glare taking hold of his features.

Just as things seemed to be spilling over voices rang out.

"My God, what an eyesore!" said a girl's voice, as clearly audible through the open window of the hut as if she had stood in the room beside them. "Couldn't your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?"

"It's not ours," said a young man's voice. "Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt, and his children. The son's quite mad, you should hear some of the stories they tell in the village-" The girl laughed. The jingling, clopping noises were growing louder and louder.

Morfin made to get out of his armchair. " Keep your seat," said his father warningly, in Parseltongue.

"Tom," said the girl's voice again, now so close they were clearly right beside the house, "I might be wrong — but has somebody nailed a snake to that door?"

"Good lord, you're right!" said the man's voice. "That'll be the son, I told you he's not right in the head. Don't look at it, Cecilia, darling."

The jingling and clopping sounds were now growing fainter again, and Morfin began to goad his sister, speaking parseltongue as to not be overheard by Ogden. Harry however, had no issue.

"He called her darling." He told her "He wouldn't have you anyway." Merope went so pale Harry thought the poor girl might faint. Her father immediately snapped back towards them.

" What's that?" said Gaunt sharply, also in Parseltongue, looking from his son to his daughter. " What did you say, Morfin?"

" She likes looking at that Muggle," said Morfin, a vicious expression on his face as he stared at his sister, who now looked terrified. " Always in the garden when he passes, peering through the hedge at him, isn't she? And last night-"

Merope shook her head jerkily, imploringly, but Morfin went on ruthlessly,

" Hanging out of the window waiting for him to ride home, wasn't she?"

" Hanging out of the window to look at a Muggle?" said Gaunt quietly. All three of the Gaunts seemed to have forgotten Ogden, who was looking both bewildered and irritated at this renewed outbreak of incomprehensible hissing and rasping.

" Is it true?" said Gaunt in a deadly voice, advancing a step or two toward the terrified girl. " My daughter — pure-blooded descendant of Salazar Slytherin — lusting after a filthy, dirt-veined Muggle?"

Merope shook her head frantically, pressing herself into the wall, apparently unable to speak.

" But I got him, Father!" cackled Morfin. " I got him as he went by and he didn't look so pretty with hives all over him, did he, Merope?"

" You disgusting little Squib, you filthy little blood traitor!" roared Gaunt, losing control, and his hands closed around his daughter's throat.

Both Harry and Ogden yelled "No!" at the same time. While Harry was unable to help, Ogden raised his wand and cried, "Relashio!" Gaunt was thrown backward, away from his daughter; he tripped over a chair and fell flat on his back.

With a roar of rage, Morfin leapt out of his chair and ran at Ogden, brandishing his bloody knife and firing hexes indiscriminately from his wand. Ogden ran for his life. Dumbledore indicated that they ought to follow, and Harry obeyed, Merope's screams echoing in his ears.

They watched as Ogden ran out dodging curses, he narrowly avoided a handsome man and pretty woman on horseback, the muggle that Morfin had cursed. He ran past them and turned his way onto the main street, apparating away with a crack.

Harry felt the now familiar sensation that accompanied entering and exiting memories pull him out of the pensieve and he awoke back in Dumbledore's office.

"What happened to the girl?" Harry asked as Dumbledore flicked his wand brightening the flames that had dimmed following their time in the pensieve.

"She survived." Dumbledore told him, retaking his seat and indicating for Harry to do the same. "Ogden went back to the ministry and returned with reinforcements just a few minutes later. They arrested Morfin who had already been arrested for prior offences and sentenced him to 3 years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who during the fight injured 3 ministry employees was sentenced to 6 months."

"Marvolo?" repeated Harry. "You're telling me that man that looked like a half monkey was Voldemort's…?"

"His grandfather, yes." Dumbledore told him. "Morfin was his uncle, and the pour soul Merope would wind up being his mother." Harry felt slightly nauseous at the fact, but realized that everyone had a mother and Voldemort hadn't simply… appeared. He pushed the thought of a snake faced toddler out of his mind.

"The Gaunts were an extremely old and, at one time, powerful family. In their haste to keep their bloodline pure, they intermarried cousins and even siblings leading to a decrease in power and the deformities you noticed." Dumbledore told him, as if he were teaching a lesson, and Harry realized he was, becoming suddenly mindful to pay rapt attention.

"Their money they had squandered long generations before that, but despite the lack of gold, power, and sense, they remained delusional, arrogant, and proud. Gaunt believed their bloodline and those heirlooms you saw him flaunting were worth more than even his children."

Dumbledore paused for a moment and then began speaking again. "We saw Voldemort's grandfather, his uncle, and his mother, but we also glimpsed his father, did you notice?

Harry thought and nodded. "The muggle that she liked, Tom. He's named after his dad and his grandfather." Harry said.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed Harry. That was Tom Riddle senior, a handsome muggle who used to ride by the Gaunt home. Merope developed a secret passion for him and fell in love.

"And he married her?" Harry asked disbelievingly, remembering the girl and thinking that he couldn't imagine two less likely candidates for falling in love and birthing a dark lord.

"He did not. Merope was a witch and in the time her family spent in Azkaban I imagine she felt less pressure and was able to practice and perform her magic more effectively. I am inclined to believe that she brewed a love potion that she could have given him on a hot summers day when he rode by her home.

"Whatever the case, a few months following the scene we witnessed Little Hangleton suffered a terrible scandal. A squire's son and the tramps daughter had fallen in love and he was running away to be with her. But the villagers' shock was nothing to Marvolo's. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal ready on his table. Instead, he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done.

"From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death — or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo, and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage."

Harry took in the information chewing on it for a moment. "Merope died, didn't she?" He finally asked after a moment. "Voldemort told me he was raised in an orphanage."

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumor flew around the neighborhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in.' What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane.

"When they heard what he was saying, however, the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he had married her for this reason."

"But she did have his baby."

"But not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."

"What went wrong?" asked Harry. "Why did the love potion stop working?"

"Again, this is guesswork," said Dumbledore, "but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means. I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that he would by now have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what became of his son."

They sat in silence for a moment as Harry contemplated all he had learned. He couldn't help but feel bad for Merope Gaunt who wanted nothing more than to love a man and be loved in return. He thought of the lengths she ultimately went through. How vile her methods were, and to still be spurned anyway… it must have been difficult.

Dumbledore spoke after a moment. "I believe that is enough for this evening, Harry."

"This- this is important isn't it, sir? Understanding this history, his life?"

"It may not make sense now, but yes Harry it is. I promise you. As we will continue in the following weeks it will fall into place." Harry nodded standing up. "I will expect you Thursday at 6. We will start with Defense before moving onto charms and then transfiguration. I've made my expectations clear?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be prepared." Harry said after a moment "Can I share this- whatever it is we're learning?"

Dumbledore nodded "I imagine you would like to tell your friends and Sirius?" Harry considered for a moment. He had yet to tell his friends about the prophecy and his first instinct had actually been to tell Daphne, even though he knew she knew even less. It must have just been because of how much they had been sharing lately. He thought Dumbledore might not like that answer however, so instead he used the vagueness of the word friends to convince himself he wasn't lying and nodded his head.

"Very, well. But please Harry, make sure no one besides them hears of this. As we continue the information will become more sensitive and should Voldemort discover what we are discussing it will all be for naught.

"I promise, sir. Thank you."

"In that case I wish you a goodnight. We will reconvene Thursday."


"Hey Greengrass!"

Daphne turned her head, an expressionless look on her face. She saw Malfoy and Parkinson making their way towards her flanked by his two goons and surprisingly Theodore Nott.

It had been three months since the beginning of the school year and for the entirety of that time Nott had been at odds with the other Slytherin's. Daphne had heard through the grapevine that Malfoy had felt slighted to begin the year at not being named prefect and had confronted Nott, telling him to give up his position which the smaller boy had refused. This caused him to be shunned from the group, but it looked like they had kissed and made up for the time being.

"Yes?" She asked with a scowl as she came to a stop. She noticed Tracey had stopped as well.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Asked Malfoy, answering her question with his own.

Daphne spoke slowly when she responded, as if to a particularly stupid child. "We just finished our classes for the day. I was going to my dormitory to put my bag away before going to the hall for dinner."

"That's not what I mean." Snapped the blonde git, in a sneering tone that grated on Daphne's nerves. "We saw how close you and Potter were in herbology. All the laughing and joking."

Daphne forced her face to remain expressionless. She and Harry had partnered up in herbology and truth be told they had a wonderful time, but it would appear they may have been overly affectionate in their excitement at their new relationship.

"There are rumors going around." Malfoy continued, "That you are consorting with mudbloods and blood traitors, Greengrass."

"They're true!" Shouted Nott, his eyes narrowed, "Why else would she refuse advances from a pureblood like me but be willing to sully herself with filth and scum like Potter."

"I can give you about 100 reasons off the top of my head, Nott. Want me to start counting them?" Tracey said, allowing a sneer to color her own voice.

Nott fumed and looked as if he were ready to respond, but Malfoy spoke first. His voice took on a calm and soothing tone, a drastic change from his previous dialogue. "Listen Davis, Greengrass. You understand that times are changing. The Dark Lord is returned. We Slytherins have a responsibility to stick together, to help one another. Consider this a… friendly word of caution. The Dark Lord would be most displeased if these rumors were founded. The Greengrass family is a proud and pure family, and it would be a shame to spill noble blood."

Before they had the chance to reply, Malfoy turned on his heel. Nott and Parkinson gave them one last glare before they all turned and followed him up to the great hall. "What a fucking prick." Tracey said when they had turned the corner.

"Tell me about it." She muttered in response. "Like Voldemort would risk the wrath of the Greengrass family and their allies." She said trying to convince herself as much as Tracey.

A moment passed and Daphne still considered his words. "I need to write my parents. You want me to take your bag up so you can go to dinner?"

"No, I'll wait for you." Tracey responded still scowling. "Gods, I hate him."

"Me too."

Daphne penned her letter and she and Tracey decided to go to the owlery, forgoing the great hall altogether and instead stopping by the kitchens. Just as she was about to tickle the pear in the painting that she knew was the entrance to the kitchens, it swung open, and a head of black hair popped out. It took Harry half a second to spot them and then he jumped slightly holding his hand to his chest.

"God, you guys scared me!" He whispered in a hushed yell.

"Constant Vigilance!" Shouted Tracey and Daphne smirked at Harrys pout. "What're you doing down here anyway Harry?" Her friend continued after a moment.

"I try to come down once every other week or so and have dinner with Dobby." Harry said and Daphne couldn't help the warm feeling that rose up in her chest. She wanted to hug him, so she did.

Harry returned the hug smiling at her. "What's that for?" He queried, and she could hear the smile in his voice causing her to squeeze tighter. "Not that I'm complaining."

"For being you." She said into his shoulder. She finally let go, and she saw Harry looking at her with some concern.

"I'm not usually very good at this, but did something happen?" He asked looking at her face. Daphne tried not to let anything show, but obviously something must have slipped as his eyes narrowed and he glanced at Tracey. "It did." He said more to himself, than to them.

Tracey whistled. "I'm almost impressed Harry, what gave it away?" Daphne glared at her for not even trying to deny it.

"Daphne never showed any affection in front of you before, and you looked way too sad watching us hug instead of happy at the new material to make fun of her with." He responded.

"Come on, let's go inside." Daphne said, "I'll tell you what happened."

They made their way into the kitchens and sat down. Dobby had been ecstatic that Harry returned, and with company no less. He prepared them meals and Daphne explained her confrontation with Malfoy as she and Tracey ate.

"What a bunch of greasy rodents." He said when they finished. His eyes were wide with concern and Daphne could sense he was about to suggest something stupid. He didn't disappoint. "Maybe it would be best if-"

"Shut up." Daphne interrupted not letting him finish the thought. "I can take care of myself, and I have Tracey as well. Besides I just owled my parents informing them of the situation, and they have enough power and sway to make sure the other Slytherins parents know to inform their children not to mess with us."

Harry still looked displeased. "We should at the least try to keep it to a minimum in public if we can." He said, "No reason to provoke them if we can try to avoid it."

Daphne knew it was smart not to go around upsetting some of her more fanatical housemates, but dammit she wanted to be able to hold his hand and spend time with him outside of classes without all of these- these obstacles. Then again when had anything concerning Harry Potter ever been easy? "Alright, fine." She agreed finally. "But you owe me." She told him petulantly.

Harry gave her that small smile that gave her butterflies. "Anything." He promised.

"I'm gonna hold you to that." She said, and Tracey gagged beside her.

"I hope you do."

Daphne and Tracey finished their meals, the conversation lightening after that. As they got up to leave Harry took her hand. "If you don't mind, could we talk for a moment… alone?" He asked her, glancing apologetically at Tracey.

Daphne looked at her friend and Tracey sighed. "If you guys want to snog, just say so. I'll see you later Daphne, it was nice catching up Harry."

Before either of them could refute her, she had turned and began to make her way towards the Slytherin common room. Harry meanwhile took her by the hand and led them into an unused storage room a hallway down. It was smaller than a classroom, but large enough that they could sit comfortably in two old chairs that were inside.

Once comfortable threw up an advanced locking and anti-eavesdropping spell on the door and room respectively. Harry looked nervous, he seemed to be debating with himself internally and struggling to say what he wanted to. "What's going on Harry?" She asked after a moment.

"I- I need you to know some things. Before we go any further." Harry told her with a grimace and Daphne suddenly felt anxious.

"It's difficult, because this information is confidential, and could cause a lot of damage if it gets out to the wrong people. That's why I chose this storage room." He told her, gesturing around them. "No portraits."

"I could take an oath." She said carefully looking at Harry. His eyes snapped back to her quickly.

"No, I trust you. I would never want you to feel like I didn't. I just really need to stress that you can't share this information with anyone, not Tracey, or Astoria, or even your parents."

Daphne nodded. "Of course, Harry. I promise I won't tell anyone."

He looked visibly relieved at her promise and then began slowly. "Malfoy was right. Voldemort is back. In my lessons with Dumbledore over the past few months I've been going over occlumency with him because it turns out there's a specific reason Voldemort continues to target me time and time again, year after year. The only issue is that sometimes in the past he had been able to use this," He said gesturing towards his infamous lightning bolt scar, "To gain access to my thoughts or mind."

Harry looked away from her, not meeting her eyes as he allowed his words to sink in. Daphne saw disgust on his face, and it was clear he hated the idea of the Dark Lord inside of his mind. Daphne also noted a hint of fear. She tried to think why it scared him when it suddenly made sense. Harry was afraid of her reaction to discovering this.

She reached her hand out taking his own into hers and tracing her thumb across the back of his hand. His relief was palpable in the shift of his posture and the look on his face, and he took a deep breath before continuing, "That was the reason behind the occlumency, so that he wouldn't be able to pluck the information from my mind. Finally, a couple weeks ago, Dumbledore said my occlumency was proficient and I could be told the reason."

Daphne looked at him in awe. Becoming proficient in occlumency was something not very many did at their age. Daphne who had a natural affinity for the mind arts was still likely a year away.

"The reason he keeps coming after me is a prophecy that was made before I was born. I won't tell you the entire thing just to be on the safe side, but the gist of it was that someone would be born at the end of July the year I was born who would possess a power to destroy the Dark Lord." Daphne knew Harry's birthday was the last day of July and her eyes widened slightly.

"The prophecy then says Voldemort would then mark them as an equal." He said, once again gesturing towards his scar and Daphne bit back a gasp. "And ultimately the prophecy goes on to say that either he will kill me, or I'll have to kill him.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, and I wouldn't have believed it either, but unfortunately, it's true. I didn't- I mean I wouldn't want to let this go any further without you knowing." Harry said again, not looking at her.

Daphne tightened her grip on his hand, but before she could respond he continued. "Malfoy and his cronies will be just the beginning. Voldemort will come after me, and by extension you and your family. Even if he doesn't kill me, I'll have to kill him. I understand if you choose to walk away, I really do. Hell, I wou-"

Daphne cut him off as she stood and engulfed him a tight embrace. "Your lessons with Dumbledore, he's training you?" She asked him.

"Yes. Advanced theory and practical magic and the history of Voldemort. I've also been practicing on my own with books my godfather gave me, which reminds me I need to tell you about him too." He said a bit distractedly.

"I'll check with my parents over break and see if I can't find some other books that might help." She told him finally loosening her embrace." I'll help in any way I can, and we'll make sure you survive. I just got you, you're not getting rid of me this easily Potter."

Harry smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes and pulled her back into the hug. "Thank you." He said so softly she almost didn't hear it.

"Of course, Harry."