A Promise in the Dark

Daphne sat at her desk, staring at the stack of letters Harry had sent her over the summer.

She ran her fingers over the parchment, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. He had been writing. Constantly. Nearly every day. Until, suddenly—

Nothing.

Not a word in over a week.

She clenched her jaw. Something was wrong.

And worse—she could feel it.

The magical bond that connected them was never silent. Even when they were miles apart, it hummed faintly in the back of her mind, like a heartbeat just beneath the surface.

But now—it felt muffled. Like something was cutting Harry off from her.

She drummed her fingers against her desk, trying to push down the gnawing dread twisting in her stomach.

Fine. If Harry wasn't writing, she would find another way to get answers.

She grabbed a quill, scrawled a quick note, and called for her owl.

Ron,

Have you heard from Harry? He stopped writing, and I know something's wrong.

If you know anything, tell me.

- Daphne

She sent the letter before she could second-guess herself.

It took two days before she received a response. She quickly tore open Ron's letter, her heart plummeted.

Daphne,

I haven't heard from him either. Mum and Dad sent letters, but the Muggles won't let him reply. I even tried using Errol, but he came back half-dead.

Fred, George and I have a plan. Be outside at 9 PM tonight. We'll get Harry out.

- Ron

Daphne exhaled sharply.

It wasn't enough.

9 PM was hours away, and every second that passed made her feel like something inside her was unraveling.

A soft knock at her door made her look up.

Before she could answer, Astoria poked her head inside.

"You're terrible at pretending you're not stressed," her little sister announced, stepping into the room.

Daphne sighed. "Astoria—"

Astoria perched on the edge of her bed. "Is this about Harry?"

Daphne gave her a look. "You haven't even met him."

Astoria grinned. "But I will meet him. And we'll be friends. Who knows, maybe I'll get sorted into Gryffindor."

Daphne rolled her eyes, but a small smirk tugged at her lips.

Astoria leaned forward, her teasing look shifting into concern as she read the letter. "You're going after him, aren't you?"

Daphne hesitated. "Ron has a plan—"

Astoria crossed her arms. "Yeah. And you're supposed to wait. But you won't."

Daphne opened her mouth—then shut it.

Astoria smirked. "That's what I thought."

Daphne groaned. "You're impossible."

Astoria's smirk faded. "I want to help."

Daphne's expression softened. "You can't come."

Astoria pouted. "Fine. But I'll cover for you. For as long as I can."

Daphne ruffled her sister's hair. "You're a menace."

Astoria grinned. "We both are."

At 9 PM sharp, Daphne stood outside the boundaries of the manor, wand in hand.

Then 9:10.

Then 9:15. Her chest tightened sharply. A strange pull in her magic—a tether being yanked, then came a sharp pain as if she had been punched in the gut.

Something was wrong.

Her breathing hitched, her hands clenched into fists, and before she even realized what she was doing, she was moving.

"God damn it, last time I trust a weasley to be on time."

She shifted, the transformation smooth and effortless. Black feathers rippled across her skin, her vision sharpened, and with a single powerful beat of her wings, she soared into the night.

The wind howled in her ears as she flew, but she barely noticed, following the bond's pull.

Harry was in trouble.

And she was going to find him.

Daphne's wings carried her through the night air, each beat of her heart syncing with the urgent pull of the bond. It was like an invisible thread, tugging her toward him, guiding her through the maze of rooftops and quiet suburban streets.

Then, she saw it. Number Four, Privet Drive.

She circled once, scanning the windows—then she saw him.

Her stomach dropped.

Harry was sitting on his bed, back to the window, shoulders trembling. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and the dim light from his room cast harsh shadows over bruises and welts littering his back. Blood flowing from cuts all over his back.

A sickening, burning rage surged through her veins.

She didn't think. She dove.

Her blood felt like fire.

She dropped from the ledge and landed softly in the front yard, shifting back to her human form.

Her wand was in her hand before she even reached the door.

Knock.

The sound echoed through the quiet house.

For a moment, nothing.

Then, the door swung open.

Petunia Dursley gasped.

Dudley froze behind his mother.

Daphne's voice was deathly calm. "Where is he?"

Petunia tried to slam the door, calling out to Vernon for help.

Daphne caught the door, shoving her way inside.

Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs. A large, red-faced man stormed into view, a golf club in hand.

"What the bloody hell—"

"Stupefy."

Vernon Dursley collapsed. Falling face first down the stairs, his nose gave a sickening crunch as it impacted the floor. Vernon layed ther unable to move from that spot, blood pooling on the floor.

Petunia screamed, clutching Dudley.

Daphne pointed her wand at them. "Take me to him. Now."

Shaking, Petunia grabbed Dudley and hurried up the stairs.

Then, Daphne saw the door.

It was bolted shut, a dozen locks lining the edge. A small metal slot sat at the bottom. A plate sat on the floor covered in what could only be described as dog food. Hanging onthe wall next to the door was a thick leather belt, fresh blood stained the leather.

Her breath shook.

A sudden coldness washed over her.

A voice whispered in the back of her mind—low, dark, insidious.

They deserve pain.

Her fingers tightened around her wand. Her blood felt like ice and fire all at once, something ancient and terrible stirring within her. The world narrowed—all she could see was that door. All she could hear was the rush of magic swelling inside her, whispering, calling.

Her pulse thundered.

They locked him away like an animal.

They starved him, beat him.

A fresh wave of rage consumed her, burning away reason, drowning her in shadows. The magic inside her shifted, dark tendrils curling at the edges of her mind.

Make them beg, make them suffer, destroy these filty animals!

Daphne raised her wand. The air around her crackled, black flames flickering at the edges of her vision.

And then—

Warmth.

A rush of light surged through her chest, flooding her mind, burning away the darkness.

Her knees almost buckled.

It was Harry.

Even from behind that door, even beaten, bruised, and broken—his magic reached out to hers.

A deep, aching warmth spread through her body, pushing back the cold, pushing back the darkness. She felt him—his kindness, his heart, his light.

And just like that, the shadows recoiled as if burned by Harry's magic.

Daphne gasped. The magic inside her lurched, snapping back under her control.

Her breath came in short, shaky bursts.

She stared at her wand—at her own hands—realizing how close she had come.

She swallowed.

No.

Not like this.

They weren't worth it.

Instead, she turned to the Dursleys, her voice low and trembling.

"You don't deserve him."

Petunia whimpered.

Daphne's grip on her wand tightened.

"You deserve to suffer. You deserve every ounce of pain you've inflicted on him—"

Her voice cracked.

"But I won't be the one to give it to you."

A flick of her wand.

Two stunning spells fired.

Petunia and Dudley collapsed.

Daphne turned back to the door.

With a roar of magic, she blasted it apart.

Inside, Harry flinched. His wand was half-raised, his eyes flicking between her and the unconscious Dursleys.

Daphne breathed hard. The rage still burned, but the relief was stronger.

She stepped inside.

"Pack your things." Her voice shook. "We're leaving."

Harry didn't hesitate. He opened Hedwig's cage. "Go to the Weasleys." The owl hooted and flew off into the night. Quickly threwing some clothes into his school bag, they turned to leave but their path was blocked.

Vernon stood in the door frame, blood flowing from his broken nose. "Where do you little fucking freaks think you're going! You break into MY HOUSE, YOU ASSAULT ME AND MY FAMILY! AND YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING TO GET AWAY WITH IT!?" Vernon stepped forward the belt held high swinging it down towards Harry.

But the strike never landed. Daphnes magic exploded, throwing Vernon out of the room with immense speed. His body crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. A trail of blood stained the wallpaper as Vernon slid down the wall.

Harry quickly grabbed Daphne's hand and they ran into the night. They didn't know where they were running.

They just kept going.

The streets blurred past them, houses turning to trees, pavement giving way to grass. Only when their lungs burned and their legs refused to take another step did they finally stop, collapsing against a thick oak tree.

Harry leaned his head back, breathing hard. "We're expelled, aren't we?"

Daphne exhaled, tilting her head toward the sky. "Thats a guarantee. Probably something worse… but I would do it again."

Silence stretched between them.

Then, softer—

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured.

Daphne turned her head toward him. "For what?"

"For getting you wrapped up in this mess. For getting you into trouble again. I'm sorry Daph." His voice was raw, thick with something unsaid.

She didn't respond—not with words.

Instead, she reached out and took his hand.

Harry stiffened slightly, startled by the contact.

But Daphne just squeezed. "From now on, we don't leave the other behind. Ever. We do this together. No matter where we go, you will always have me there beside you. You are not alone anymore Harry Potter, for better or worse we will get through it all. I would go to the end of the world to find you and burn it all down to get to you. I promise you this Harry, I wont leave you."

Harry swallowed, his fingers twitching beneath hers. Then—slowly—he squeezed back.

The warmth between them shifted.

Daphne could feel it—the bond thrumming in the air, wrapping around them, pulling them closer.

Harry turned to her, his green eyes dark and unreadable in the moonlight. His gaze flickered downward—to her lips—before snapping back up.

Daphne felt her heart hammer against her ribs.

She wasn't sure who moved first.

One second, they were sitting side by side, breathless from the run, hands intertwined. The next—They were leaning in.

Slowly.

A silent pull—something deeper than magic—dragging them toward each other.

Daphne's lips parted slightly, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Their noses brushed—

And then—

BEEP!

They jumped apart.

A loud whooshing sound filled the air, and a beat-up blue car dropped out of the sky.

Harry and Daphne scrambled to their feet just as the door swung open.

Ron grinned down at them. "Need a ride?"

Fred leaned over him, smirking. "Hope we weren't interrupting anything."

Daphne and Harry, too embarrassed to look at each other, quickly climbed into the car hand in hand. Neither one wanted to let go of the other but neither of them forgot how close they had been.

Not for a second.

Author Note

I hope you enjoyed the chaos! I know that in JKR's world Astoria is 2 years younger than Daphne. So i hope its not to crazy of a change that I aged her up by 1 year. But all jokes aside i hope that this chapter finds you all well and i look forward to posting the next one.