Heres a big chapter dump!! I finally have reliable internet! Update im almost finished with this book and have already begun working on the next! I hope you all enjoy these chapters and look out for another big chapter drop next week around this time! As always I look forward to your comments! They really do help me with the writing process! Thank you and enjoy!!

Chapter 14: The Pain That Binds

The infirmary was silent, save for the soft rustle of bedsheets as Harry lay unconscious. His face was pale, his body still, but his mind was anything but.

It began as a shadow, creeping at the edges of his consciousness. Harry found himself standing in a dark room, the cold stone walls oppressive and suffocating. The scene shifted, solidifying into a memory—one that wasn't his.

Suddenly, he was moving, not of his own volition. His hands—no, someone else's hands—reached for the latch on a tall, iron gate. As the gate creaked open, a warmth spread through him, as though the mere act of leaving the cold stone manor was enough to lift a burden.

Harry wasn't himself. He was a girl, younger, no more than eight or nine. Her small frame darted through the village streets, her shoes slapping against the cobblestones. There was a smile on her face—a genuine one—as she ran toward a girl sitting by the edge of a fountain.

The girl looked up and grinned. "You're late!"

"I couldn't get away earlier," harry replied, slightly out of breath. "But I'm here now!"

Harry felt the joy and simplicity of the moment as the two played, their laughter filling the small square. They chased each other around the fountain, invented silly games, and splashed water at one another. It was pure happiness—untainted by expectation or duty.

But then, like a thunderclap, the warmth shattered.

"Daphne Greengrass!"

The voice was sharp, cold, and unforgiving. Harry—Daphne—froze, the happiness draining from her as she turned to see a tall, imposing man. Her father.

"Come here. Now."

Daphne's feet dragged as if weighed down by lead. Her heart raced in her chest, but she moved toward him, her friend looking on in confusion and fear. Her father's hand clamped down on her arm like a vice, his voice seething with barely controlled anger.

"You dare to disobey me again?" he hissed. "How many times must I tell you, Daphne? You do not associate with muggles. Do you want to bring ruin upon this family? Is that what you want?"

"She's really nice!" Daphne protested, her voice trembling but defiant. "She's my friend, Daddy!"

Her father's face twisted into anger and disappointment . "Friend? With a muggle? You disgrace yourself, and you disgrace our name. Perhaps I've been too lenient with you. It's clear that words aren't enough to make you understand."

Harry wanted to run, to escape, but he couldn't. He was Daphne, and Daphne had no choice but to follow as her father dragged her back to the manor, his grip crushing.

The sitting room was dimly lit, the fire in the hearth doing little to chase away the chill. Her father released her with a shove, pacing the room like a caged animal. Lucius Malfoy sat in a high backed chair by the fire sipping a glass of fire whiskey.

"You think this is a game, Daphne? Playing with muggles, acting like they're your equals? I've tried to teach you the right way. Clearly, it's time for harsher methods."

Daphne squared her shoulders, trying to stand tall. "She didn't do anything wrong. I like playing with her. She's my friend!"

Lucius stood wand in hand and leveled it at Daphne. "You will not speak to your father that way, you insultant child. You have proven that you will not listen to reason. Now, you'll learn what happens when you defy your superiors."

The Cruciatus Curse came without warning.

Harry felt it—the searing, unrelenting pain that tore through Daphne's small body. It wasn't just pain—it was fire licking at her skin, her bones shattering, her veins filled with molten lava. The world blurred, her vision darkening at the edges, but the pain didn't relent. Her screams filled the room, guttural and raw, scraping against Harry's ears like shattered glass.

But Malfoy didn't stop.

"Do you see now?" he spat, his wand unwavering. "This is the price of defiance. Perhaps next time you'll think twice before shaming your fathers family."

Daphne's small hands clawed at the floor, her nails cracking as she tried to move, to get away, but her body wouldn't respond. The pain consumed everything, leaving no room for thought, no room for hope.

"Mum… please… help me…"

Her mother stood in the corner, her expression blank. Her fists clenched at her sides, but she did nothing. She didn't move. She didn't speak. She turned her head away, refusing to meet Daphne's eyes.

Harry felt the betrayal like a knife to the heart. Daphne's anguish, her despair, was his own. He wanted to scream at her mother, to lash out at her father or Malfoy, but he was powerless.

The curse lifted, but the agony lingered. Daphne's sobs were quiet, broken, as she curled in on herself. Lucius loomed over her, his shadow stretching across the floor.

"You will not defy your father again. Do you understand? If only you had really cared for your little friend. It would be terrible if something unfortunate were to happen to her. You've put her in danger, Daphne. Her blood is on your hands. Let's hope this is the final lesson you need to learn your place girl"

The guilt hit like a physical blow, heavier than the pain of the curse. Daphne's heart shattered, her tears soaking into the cold stone floor.

The scene blurred again, the edges smearing like wet ink.

And then the pain came again.

Harry was no longer in the manor. He wasn't anywhere—just floating in an abyss of agony. It was relentless, all-consuming, and endless. Every nerve screamed in torment, his mind fracturing under the weight of it. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours, and hours into what felt like an eternity.

He wanted to claw his way out, to scream, but his voice was trapped, just as his body was trapped in this ceaseless nightmare. It felt as though there was no escape, no light, no hope. Only pain. He would stay here forever, suffering, lost in this void.

His heart began to falter, his will to endure slipping away like water through his fingers.

And then her voice broke through.

"Don't leave," Daphne whispered, trembling. "Come back to me, Harry."

The torment seemed to deepen as her fear and despair resonated through the bond, wrapping around him like chains. He felt her anguish, her terror at losing him, and it twisted the knife already buried in his soul. He couldn't bear it—her pain was his pain, her heartbreak echoing in his chest. It felt as if his soul was finally being ripped out.

It was too much. The agony was infinite, and it would never end.

But then, like a whisper in the storm, her voice came again, stronger this time:

"I won't let anything happen to you."

The words shattered the darkness like a thunderclap. The pain receded, crumbling away like brittle glass, and warmth surged through him, flooding every corner of his being. It wasn't just relief—it was life, hope, and something deeper.

Before him, the void began to fill with light. A glowing cord appeared, stretching out in the emptiness. It pulsed with magic, vibrant and alive, and as Harry looked closer, he saw threads of silvery-black intertwined with red, gold and green, spiraling together like strands of DNA. The cord connected him to Daphne, and it glowed brighter with each pulse, as if their very souls were woven together.

As the warmth enveloped him and the cord shimmered with life, the dream faded.