Flames of Love

The dark stone walls flew past Harry as he ran through the endless underground tunnels. Shadows stretched and shivered along the cold, damp stone, briefly illuminated by the faint glow at the tip of his wand. His hand tightened around the golden locket hanging from his chest – Voldemort's last Horcrux. The weight of it, sharp and urgent, pressed against his heart with every wild step.

Soon it would all be over.

Soon their enemy would be mortal again.

Soon they would triumph, and all their sacrifices would have been worthwhile.

All he had to do first was get out of here and be reunited with Daphne. They had been separated near the lake when the Inferi had risen, hundreds of dead eyes gleaming as they swept towards them in rage. Harry had been weakened by the potion he'd swallowed to get the locket; every spell he'd cast had been a struggle. So Daphne, making a terrible noise, had drawn most of the dead monsters away from him, allowing him to escape.

He had barely realised what had happened, still dizzy and barely holding his wand aloft. Before he could protest or stop her, Daphne had disappeared into one of the dark tunnels, with a whole horde of raging Inferi in hot pursuit. But there had still been some Inferi left, and so Harry had begun to run. He had run and run and run, and bit by bit his mind had cleared. Little by little he had managed to either burn or shake off his undead pursuers. And now all was silent, only his footsteps and the wild beating of his heart could be heard.

He realised that Daphne's quick thinking had probably saved his life.

His friend had always been so selfless and brave, just like when they first met...

It had been the day he was supposed to take the train to Hogwarts for the first time, and of course his family had let him down again.

"Well, there you are, boy," Uncle Vernon laughed with an ugly grin on his face. "Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was absolutely right, of course. The platform was marked by a big plastic number nine on one side and a big plastic number ten on the other, with nothing in between.

"Well then, have a good term," Uncle Vernon laughed even more spitefully than before. He turned without another word and got back into the car with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. All three laughed as they drove off, leaving Harry helpless.

There were already a lot of funny looks directed at him – because of Hedwig. It would be best if he asked someone for directions, Harry thought, but who? The passing railway guards – Muggles, Harry remembered the newly learned term – certainly couldn't help him, so he would have to find other wizards.

Harry hurried restlessly along the platform, looking for people who looked even a little like the ones he had seen with Hagrid in Diagon Alley. Most of the travellers seemed to be in a hurry themselves, and none of them had even a hint of magic about them.

The departure of the Hogwarts Express was getting closer and closer, and Harry was rushing around in increasing panic when he was suddenly knocked off his feet. The next thing he knew he was lying on his back on the hard concrete floor, his luggage trolley on its side. Hedwig screamed angrily. Next to them was a girl lying on the floor, her trolley also knocked over. They must have collided.

The girl was wearing a simple grey dress and had honey-blond hair that went down to about the middle of her back. The hair looked unkempt and was now tangled all over the girl's face. Still, Harry could see that tears were streaming down her pale cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, scrambling to his feet. "I didn't see you there – are you alright" He held out his hand.

The blonde nodded slightly and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. For a moment, one of her sleeves slid down a little, revealing dark bruises on her pale skin. Harry's breath caught – not because he didn't recognise the bruises, but because he did. He had plenty of his own. But he couldn't understand how anyone could hit such a pretty girl.

She noticed his look and quickly pulled down her sleeves. Only then did she take his hand and he helped her to her feet. Then she suddenly froze, her eyes – which Harry now realised were an icy blue, but did not look cold – fixed on his forehead.

"You're Harry Potter," she said in surprise.

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. "Then you are... you are..." He looked around, but no one seemed to notice them; the adults were too busy with their own everyday problems. "And you're a witch," he whispered.

The girl nodded again. "I'm Daphne," she said sniffly. "Daphne Greengrass." This time it was she who held out her hand and Harry shook it, delighted. At last he had found someone like himself!

"Do you know how...?" he began, but was abruptly interrupted by his new acquaintance, who pointed to Hedwig's cage in horror.

"Your owl!" she cried, kneeling down to lift the cage gently. She quickly rummaged through her bag and produced a few small biscuits, which Hedwig gobbled up with a contented coo.

"You're beautiful," Daphne said, her eyes shining as she stroked Hedwig's feathers. "And such soft feathers. You really are the most beautiful owl I've ever seen." She looked at Harry, seeming to have completely forgotten her recent tears. "What's her name?"

"Hedwig," he replied with a smile, straightening the rest of his trolley as well. "She's my best friend."

"Hedwig," Daphne repeated softly, almost reverently. "That's a fateful name. You're a fighter, aren't you, Hedwig?" The owl replied with an affirmative coo. "Take good care of him, Hedwig. Harry's my first friend in the world."

Harry looked at her, both amused and touched. Was Daphne as lonely as he was? "I was going to ask you, Daphne," he said, trying to hide his uncertainty. "Do you know how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? That's where we have to go to catch the train to Hogwarts."

Panic suddenly returned to Daphne's pale face. "I'm looking for it too. My parents... they just dropped me off. They didn't tell me... how to get to the platform, and we're almost out of time."

Just then, a group of red-haired people passed close behind them, and they overheard a few words of their conversation.

"Packed with Muggles, of course..."

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look before running after them without hesitation...

Even now, after all these years, the memory of their first encounter still brought a smile to Harry's face.

All these years, Daphne had been there for him. Always, without exception.

The Chamber of Secrets, the Triwizard Tournament, the battle at the Ministry of Magic – in every one of those nightmares, she had been his support, his confidante, his sword and shield.

When almost the entire school had turned against him in his second year, she had sat with him at every meal, publicly confronted everyone who called him the Heir of Slytherin, and ruined her own reputation in the process. But she'd told him she didn't care.

When he had been made champion against his will by the Goblet of Fire, she had trained with him every free minute, even skipping her own classes, which had earned her weeks of detention. But she'd told him he was more important.

When he had led her and their friends into disaster at the Ministry, when Sirius had died because of his failure, she had not reproached him. She had simply held him as he cried in her arms, stroking his back and whispering sweet words of comfort into his ear. He had stained her whole body with his blood and tears. But she'd told him they were her blood and tears too.

She had always been there for him.

And, he hoped, he had been there for her.

When he had sat with her all night in the hospital wing at her little sister's bedside, when the younger girl had been plagued by the symptoms of her blood curse.

When she had run away from home, when her parents had tried to force her into an engagement with a stranger, and she had come to him, to Privet Drive, in the middle of the night, her face full of tears.

When she had finally reported her parents to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for years of abuse, and he'd sat beside her through every gruelling minute of the interrogation, never once letting go of her hand.

They had been through thick and thin together.

Especially the last year. After Dumbledore had died at the beginning of their sixth year, killed by Draco Malfoy in an ambush right inside Hogwarts. Shortly after, the Ministry had fallen and Harry and Daphne had gone underground with their friends when the Death Eaters had taken over the country. They had known that to have a future of their own they would have to defeat Voldemort, though the only help they had were a few memories and notes that Dumbledore had left for Harry.

Months of darkness had followed. Months of hardship and the overwhelming hopelessness of their efforts. They had struggled. They had fought. Tooth and nail, with everything they had. They had been thrown to the ground, only to get back up and fight on, even more determined than before. And all their efforts had finally brought them to this moment, with Voldemort's last Horcrux around Harry's neck and victory so close.

And through all the darkness, through the long months of fear and struggle, one thing had become clearer to him than ever: he loved Daphne. She was his constant, his light – and the only one with whom he wanted a future, a life, a family.

Once again, he pictured the scene that had made his heart tremble: finally confessing his love to Daphne, promising her eternity and imagining a world with her – a world where they could be free and happy.

And today, Harry thought resolutely as he continued to run through the dark tunnels, he would finally tell her. Today he would finally tell her that he loved her.

He hoped so much that she would love him back.

At that moment, Harry suddenly heard the sound of waves. The exit must be very close now! He would surely find Daphne on the beach, as they had agreed in case they were separated. Harry felt a surge of relief and began to sprint. One last turn and the cave opened up in front of him.

Beyond the mouth of the cave, the night sky was cloudless, studded with countless twinkling stars, and the moon shone brightly over the sea. But something else caught his eye.

At the mouth of the cave stood a figure.

The torso bent slightly forward, shoulders slumped, arms lifeless at the sides. Another Inferius – the last on his way to freedom.

Harry raised his wand, ready to vanquish the threat – but then his world shattered into a thousand pieces.

Ice-blue eyes stared back at him.

Honey-blond hair blew softly in the wind.

Pale skin shimmered in the moonlight.

Only the eyes were empty, there was no warmth in them.

Only the hair was wet, clinging to the head like seaweed.

Only there was a terrible gash in the pale skin, on the neck, as if someone had torn out chunks of flesh.

The Inferius pursed its pale lips as if to smile. But it wasn't a smile of life, it was the smile of a tortured body, a smile of grief, and yet it seemed to be a silent gesture of farewell.

A jolt went through the lifeless form and the Inferius lunged at him, hands outstretched like claws.

For Harry, time seemed to stand still at that moment. His heart was beating wildly, yet it felt like a dead, cold stone in his chest. An unbearable roar filled his ears, yet every sound pierced his soul like a dagger. Ice-cold shivers ran through his body and yet hot tears burned on his cheeks, first one, then two, then more and more.

But he did not tremble.

He could not.

Even though everything inside him was screaming for him to.

Even though every part of him was screaming for him to give in to despair.

He owed it to her. He owed it to the future they had dreamed of that would now be nothing more than a painful memory. He owed it to the life they could have had, should have had, and now would never have.

Harry pointed his wand at the Inferius.

"We will meet again, Daph," he whispered, "in a better place."

And flames shot from the wand.