Nothing is mine.

The one in which Harry tries his hand at turning himself invisible (but still, sadly for everyone, very much audible)

There is No Night Without a Dawning

Ron tucked into a small mountain of mashed potatoes, demonstrating all the deep interest for Umbridge's long, rambling, breathy speech he had each time they'd heard it throughout the three months in which the first signs of spring had blossomed. Her words fell upon the heavy stupor that hung over the Great Hall like a dense fog, an air of resigned antipathy so thick Harry felt he could almost reach out and drag his fingers through it as if it were still, lukewarm bathwater.

Hermione stared up at the gleeful smile spread across Umbridge's flabby features and ground her teeth.

'What's she going on about this time?' Harry asked, picking the seeds out of his slice of bread one by one. 'Anything new? Banned anymore books? Removed any dark tapestries? Accidentally signed the latest education decree in her torture quill and hurt her own hand? Discovered there are other colours that aren't some shade of pink?'

'No.' She scowled up at the lurid pink figure upon the dais. 'She's banning the study of the historical uses and origins of most of the runes in the Ancient Runes class, which is about half the OWL exam and a good part of the NEWT one too.'

'Why would she even care?' Harry wondered.

'Because the development of runic languages used in magic is commonly recorded in history through the use of allegorical stories involving gods and spirits and so on.' Hermione picked her fork back up and stabbed a piece of potato. 'Of course, all the stories are made up, but it's easier to confer how society evolved symbols for complex concepts with a story than anything else, particularly in cultures that have an oral tradition rather than a written one, so that's what they did. The Ministry is trying to eradicate all of them, which is like trying to erase all the bad bits of history so nobody can learn from what's gone wrong.'

Ron perked up from his plate. 'Why are the stories bad?'

'Probably because most of the stories have that awful, morbid, everything's-going-to-die gibberish in them, Ronald.' Hermione huffed. 'Horrible dark extremist drivel.'

'Yeah… Ronald.' Harry chuckled to himself. 'Anyway, Hermione, you wanted to help with my genius plan. Have you come up with anything?'

'No.' She huffed. 'Because your plan doesn't have any detail or substance to it; there's nothing to work with!'

'It has all the important bits, thank you. We sneak past Umbridge's group of whatever baby Inquisitors—'

'Junior Inquisitorial Squad,' Ron supplied.

'Yes. Them.' Harry waved a hand at where Umbridge rambled on in front of the lectern. 'They're all Muggle-borns out to annoy the Pure-bloods who've been looking down at them since they got to the magical world, though, so they probably won't bother us much. Somehow, Hermione's reputation remains pristine, despite a long and dubious record of prejudice.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Getting back to the plan, Harry.'

'Right. Yes. So, we avoid them, which is easy, because we can just see them on the map, and we floo to the Ministry because all our other options are, according to Hermione, impossible or life-threatening.'

'The Floo is blocked on most fireplaces and monitored on all of them,' she replied.

'Yes, but Daphne said that Cho said that her friend Marietta has something to confess to us and part of it involves the Floo.' Harry grinned. 'This is usually the part of the year when something conveniently lands at my feet, like during the Triwizard Tournament, when Neville told me about Gillyweed or before that when Cedric told me how to open the egg.'

Ron snickered. 'Didn't you tell us that was Barty Crouch Junior trying to make sure you ended up getting kidnapped, mate?'

'It still counts.'

'How would Greengrass even know that?' Hermione demanded. 'She only speaks to you. And maybe her sister, but I haven't actually seen the two of them talking either.'

'I have no idea,' Harry admitted. 'But like I said, this is usually the moment something happens, so I assume something will happen. And when it does, we'll go to the Ministry, sneak down to that creepy bottom bit, which I will definitely recognise, and then steal ourselves a glass orb. Ronald, you're on snake-watch, because there's a chance there's also a very large and somewhat dangerous reptile down there as well.'

'You can't go until after exams,' Hermione whispered.

'I can. Assuming the something that I have assumed will happen, happens as I have assumed it will.' Harry turned that over in his head. 'Yes, I think that made sense.'

'No, you can't,' she hissed. 'Harry, they could expel you!'

'Hopefully they'll just kill—'

'I'll kill you if you make that joke again,' Hermione snapped. 'Just wait for a couple of weeks. You get your exams, then you at least have your OWLs if something goes wrong and the Ministry does something insane and over the top like it did when it sent dementors to a school.'

'Nothing will go wrong,' Harry promised. 'Probably.' He grinned. 'That's a total lie, something always goes wrong, but that's why you're all helping me get there, and I'm doing the bit at the end where things usually take a sudden turn for the worse.'

Ron glanced up from his mashed potato. 'Cho and Marietta are coming this way.'

'What?' Hermione scowled. 'It's probably just a coincidence.'

Harry watched Cho guide Marietta toward them with one hand on her shoulder, whispering in her red-headed friend's ear every step of the way. 'I think Daphne might be right. Something's up.'

'I think I liked it better when you just talked about Fleur Delacour in her bathing suit,' Hermione muttered. 'Greengrass is horrible, Harry; the things she believes in are just… just…'

'It's not the same as the really bad stuff,' Harry murmured. 'And she has a good reason for wanting to believe someone will come; Dwyr Sy'n Tystio is supposed to be the one who lifts the blood malediction from her family. He would save her sister which, you know, isn't such a bad thing to hope for.' He grinned. 'She's only mildly evil because she's in Slytherin.'

A small growl escaped Hermione. 'That's not a good enough excuse! It's insane to believe in anything like that at all! Some awful wizard will murder millions because of some invisible people in the sky and it's fine because it was all foretold and you'll be okay!' Her brown eyes flashed. 'Voldemort would murder my whole family, and she just stands there right in front of me and says it's a good thing to my face!'

'Would it cheer you up a bit if I agreed not to go until after exams in a few weeks?'

'Yes,' she said. 'But not as much as it would if we just didn't go. Prophecies aren't even real, Harry; this is almost certainly some kind of trap made by Voldemort to get to you.'

'Do you really want all the people who believe someone's going to come and save them from the death of the magical world thinking that someone is Voldemort?' Harry asked. 'If you think them believing it will happen one day is bad, just wait until they believe it's him and do anything he asks of them. Because he clearly feels whatever is down there is going to help him do that.'

A shudder swept through Hermione. 'That's… that's the stuff of nightmares. He'd round up everyone like me and stick us in some kind of camp, or just leave us all in Azkaban, or worse, just kill all of us and anyone without magic like my parents!'

Harry laughed to himself. 'Do you think I could convince him to get rid of the Dursleys?'

'Harry!'

'What?' He chuckled. 'Let's be honest, they're not very nice people. They made me eat spam, Her-my-ow-knee. Spam. That's child abuse. Honestly, the whole spam thing means I don't even feel guilty for the fact I apparently spent all my time as a baby terrorising them with accidental magic like the baby version of the girl from the Exorcist.'

Hermione blinked. 'That doesn't mean you can just kill them all.'

'I know. I know. I wouldn't need Voldemort to get rid of them, anyway, the first hint of an Indian family moving into Privet Drive and they'd be moving house by the end of the week. I think Uncle Vernon is holding a grudge over the last time he tried to be manly and tough and ate a very small chilli.'

'Er… Hi Harry. Sorry to interrupt…' Cho nudged Marietta forward along the table past Dean and Seamus's backs. 'Marietta has something she would like to say.'

'I know,' Harry said.

'You know?' Cho stared at him. 'You saw it?'

'My skill at Divination is extremely high. I can even accurately predict what I had for breakfast this morning.' He laughed to himself. 'It was actually nothing. I was having a lovely dream about unconventional sculptures and overslept. Everyone was upside down and there was a strong preference for red crayon.'

Hermione sighed. 'Just say it, Marietta, or you'll have to listen to him for even longer.'

Cho giggled. 'Go on, Marietta.'

Marietta squirmed, winding one red curl around her forefinger. 'It was me,' she whispered. 'I told her.'

Hermione balled her fists. 'You—'

A small flash of anger tore through Harry, but he swallowed it. 'Not really ideal that you did that, but no harm done, I guess.'

'No harm?!' Hermione cried.

'Well, no, probably some harm,' he admitted. 'But no point worrying about that now, it's not like we can change it unless you have another time-turner stashed somewhere on your person and apparently someone said I'm not allowed to go around killing people just because I'm annoyed with them.'

'Sorry,' Marietta mumbled. 'I thought… My mum works for the Ministry… I was just really worried we were all going to get into really big trouble and it would cause more trouble for her at work—'

'Never mind that,' Harry said. 'I'm sure you're meant to do things like that for your parents if they're alive and love you and not rotting somewhere below the ground in a place nobody has actually ever bothered to tell me about.' He stole a tomato off Hermione's plate with a grin as she stared at him, wide-eyed, her fork trembling halfway back to her plate. 'Was that it, Marietta?'

'No.' Marietta shot a fierce glower up at where Umbridge sipped from her goblet. 'I heard the stupid Inquisitoral Squad talking about how they're going to start taking all the books they've added to the banned list out of the library and burning them.'

Hermione choked on her remaining tomato, spluttering juice and seeds over Ron's arm.

Ron wiped his sleeve clean with a grimace and a shake of his head.

'I know, mate,' Harry said. 'Lav-Lav would never spit all over you like that; she'd just bat her eyelashes until you let her draw on your arms with lip gloss again.'

'They're going to what?!' Hermione cried.

'Burn the books,' Marietta said. 'The Divination ones. And some Runes ones. And more, probably. Every week since she took over she's added more books to the banned list. Half the History of Magic section is just… missing.'

'You don't burn books,' Cho said, her dark brown eyes flashing with fury. 'They're books.'

'I thought — we thought that maybe if something really embarrassing happened, then Fudge would replace her with someone less awful,' Marietta said. 'And Cho said you had some plan, but she didn't say what it was…'

'I'm going to break into the Ministry and steal a prophecy,' Harry said. 'Somehow. There is still a small snag on how to get from here to London without freezing to death on a broom. We were considering the Floo but it's all locked down or being monitored.'

'Umbridge's office isn't monitored,' Marietta said. 'She wanted it unmonitored, even though Fudge said all of them have to be watched. My mum refused to secretly remove the enchantment for her so Umbridge got her fired for supporting dark superstitions, and the witch who got her job did it instead.'

'So I can go through Umbridge's own fireplace.' He chortled. 'That's going to really upset her.'

'And maybe it will get her fired,' Marietta muttered.

'Before she burns the books,' Cho said. 'Some of the books in the Hogwarts library are really old and there aren't other copies anywhere else anymore.'

'Thank you, Marietta.' Hermione looked her up and down. 'Obviously, we won't discuss anything else in front of you. Just in case you change your mind about snitching to someone again.'

'I am sorry,' Marietta mumbled. 'Mum said that the Ministry were just trying to stop Dumbledore allowing dangerous things to spread under his nose, but Umbridge is just… just… vile.'

'Dumbledore?' Hermione sniffed. 'Allow dark things to happen? Nonsense.'

Harry snorted. 'Well…'

'Well?!'

'There was First Year with the Mirror of Erised, Fluffy, Quirrell, and the troll. And Second Year with the basilisk. And Third Year with Lupin and all the dementors. And Fourth Year, well, he hired a literal Death Eater who kidnapped me.' He laughed. 'Also, you heard what Fudge said, it's about everyone saying Voldemort is back when he was dead. All the Pure-bloods and everyone who believes in that stuff will get very excited when they hear, and do something that we probably won't like very much because they think it's all part of some big prophecy.'

Marietta twisted that same curl of red hair around her finger. 'Ken y tyachtfech,' she whispered.

'Voldemort's not a saviour,' Harry murmured. 'He just wants you all to believe so you'll follow him and do what he wants you to.' He pushed himself to his feet as the Great Hall emptied around them. 'Anyway, we have to get to class before Flitwick manages to stack up enough books to see over his desk and realises we're not there. Hermione, quick, confiscate Ronald's food or he'll never leave.'

'Oi.' Ron spread his hands over his empty plate. 'I finished eating ages ago while you were all talking about burning books, just been cleaning off all the tomato Hermione spat all over my arm, haven't I?'

'Oh, well, in that case—' Harry considered it '—Hermione, confiscate Ronald before he does something boring and sane.'

She rolled her eyes and swung her legs out from under the bench. 'Come on, Ron, before Harry does something stupid and insane.'

'I resent that; sometimes I might do things that seem insane, but they're never stupid.' Harry waved Marietta and Cho goodbye with a cheerful grin. 'Thanks for telling us about the Floo, Marietta. Watch your back, though, Hermione is not a very forgiving person—' he paused '—actually, how pure of blood are you?'

She twitched, a little colour climbing her cheeks. 'My family is not very important, but we are Pure-bloods.'

'Oh, you're probably safe then; Hermione will take her terrifying rage out on someone like Colin Creevey instead. She really has it in for him.'

'Is he—'

'I don't think he's serious, no,' Cho whispered in Marietta's ear. 'Come on, we have to get to Potions.'

Harry caught Hermione and Ron at the door to the hall. 'So it turns out, Hermione, that Marietta—'

'I heard!'

'Good, well, try not to torment any innocent first years by trapping them in trick steps. Remember, calm thoughts. Don't let the homicidal urges win.'

'The only reason I get homicidal urges is you,' Hermione retorted, stalking through the corridors toward Charms. 'You and your complete and utter lack of common sense.' She wrung her hands. 'Yesterday you transfigured your hand into a blackthorn branch!'

'It worked very well,' Harry replied. 'Until I needed both hands to defend myself from your violent tendencies, then it was a bit of a… handicap.'

Ron snickered into his hand.

'Shut up, Ron,' she hissed. 'You just encourage him to do stupid things! He could have lost an arm! Or been permanently part tree!'

'Come in! Come in!' Professor Flitwick squeaked, sticking his head out of the door of their classroom. 'Everything's ready. It's a practical lesson today, not just theory.'

'Oh, thank goodness,' Ron exclaimed. 'Umbridge made us copy out an entire chapter before lunch, my hand literally can't take any more writing.'

'Well, I had a lovely time in the Common Room,' Harry said.

'I can't believe she just lets you skip class,' Hermione muttered, dragging Ron in by the elbow and depositing him in the front row.

'I think she prefers it,' Ron said. 'Harry annoys her.'

'I almost miss it,' Harry said, feigning just a touch of wistful regret. 'But then I remember what a waste of time her class is and how much more fun it is doing literally anything else but especially coming up with alternative recipes for Snape's Potions and giving them to other students in our year.'

'You what?' Hermione buried her face in her hands. 'Why can't you just be normal?'

'Honestly, I find it boring,' he said. 'Also, Voldemort ruined that possibility for me when he killed himself on my forehead, so I might as well get all the fun I can back out of it.'

Seamus, Dean and Neville drifted in, trailed by Lavender, who tipped Ron and Harry a wink on the way past. A small white sticker flashed dark pink writing on the back of her skirt.

Hermione tutted and prodded Ron in the ribs. 'Stop staring at Lavender's butt!'

'If you're reading this, you have great taste,' Harry said, peering at the sticker. 'Nice sticker, Lav!'

Lavender beamed. 'Great taste, Harry!'

Hermione released a long sigh. 'Et tu, Harry?'

'In my defence, I was more curious about the pink sticker, I see Lavender in a short skirt every day.'

'It's not a short skirt,' Hermione retorted.

Harry leant his head to one side, estimating the length of black skirt between Lavender's waist and her mid-thigh. 'It's like… six inches? If she lost a couple more inches of it, she might as well not be wearing it.'

'Only because she's rolled the top up. It's not actually short, she makes it short.'

'Nothing wrong with that,' Ron reckoned. 'It looks good.'

Hermione huffed and dragged her books out of her back, slamming them down on the desk. 'If all you two are interested in are girls who show off so much leg they might as well just not wear a skirt at all and flash all their cleavage at you, then maybe you should go sit over there with Lavender!'

Ron flushed.

'I'm thinking about it,' Harry replied, drumming his fingers on his chin. 'Actually, that's a lie, I'm imagining Lavender without a skirt.'

Hermione made a small noise of disgust.

'Like you don't imagine boys without their shirts on.'

'That's different!'

'How?' Harry asked. 'How is that different?'

'It…' She floundered for a moment. 'It just is.'

'Seems sexist,' he retorted. 'Sexism and Sexismibility.'

'Leave Jane Austen out of this.'

'I bet she liked guys with their shirts off as well,' Harry accused.

Hermione chewed at her lip. 'Fine. You win. Happy? This whole conversation is stupid and Lavender is sitting down now, so you can't stare at her.'

'That was all Ron, I was just reading the sticker.'

'Yeah, you only like blonde girls who worship horrible dark culty things, and hope me and my family are all going to die,' she muttered.

'And Fleur Delacour,' Harry said. 'Also, I would totally date Lavender, but Ronald would be very upset. Right, Ron?'

'A bit,' Ron admitted. 'But you go too fast for Lav, mate. I can barely keep up with you when you start going off and I know all the stuff that happened.'

'Yeah, true.' Harry turned it over in his head, but all he got was a faint stirring of butterflies at the thought of Daphne's red-stained lips. 'Daphne's a lot prettier, too. No offence to Lav, but, just, there's no competition there.'

Hermione opened her Charms book and turned away.

Malfoy strutted in. 'Potter,' he greeted, his upper lip curling. 'I heard you might have become a little bit less of a disgrace to your ancestors.'

'Heard from who?' Harry demanded. 'I need to stifle this source of lies. I haven't tormented any Muggle-borns. Or Muggles. That was all Hermione.'

Hermione ignored him.

'She would usually vehemently deny it,' he said, 'but she's angry at me for liking girls in short skirts.'

Malfoy glanced over his shoulder at the doorway. 'I'm not going to respond to that nonsense.'

'So you're just going to stand there like some kind of hair-gel slathered lemon?'

'Yes.' He scowled. 'I mean no.'

'Well go away then, Malfoy,' Harry said. 'If I wanted to talk to a blonde, stuck-up, Slytherin Pure-blood, I wouldn't choose you.'

Daphne stepped into the class, untangling the little crimson crescent moon from her free blonde hair with one hand; the fingers of her other hand folded the red wrapper of a blood pop into smaller and smaller squares. All the butterflies clinging to the inside of his stomach stirred once more, fluttering their little wings with wild abandon as Daphne hooked that one rogue lock of blonde hair back behind her ear.

Malfoy smirked. 'I suppose if you marry her, she will at least have to give you sons to carry on the family name. Not that your name means much these days, Blood-traitor that you are.'

'What happened to me being less of a disgrace?' Harry laughed to himself. 'Already squashed that slander, have I?'

'Bugger off,' Ron said. 'Go worship that snake-loving manic somewhere else.'

Malfoy looked down his nose at Ron. 'Anywhere is better than where you are, Weasley. You're a disgrace to nearly five centuries of honourable wizards and witches.' He strode away toward the far back left of the classroom to where Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle sat, staring out the window.

'Hi Daphne.' Harry waved at her as she lingered in the door. 'We were just talking about you.'

She turned her pretty nose up, but ghosted across the floor toward him in near silence. 'And about Lavender Brown's short skirt.'

'I mean yes…' Harry blinked, rather curious all of a sudden. 'But how did you even—'

'Never mind that.' Her ice-blue eyes swept over him as Ron sniggered into his Charms textbook. 'Just remember not to listen to Granger when she speaks about things she does not understand.'

Hermione huffed. 'I understand plenty, Greengrass.'

Daphne shot her a look that brimmed with ample measures of pity and contempt both. 'Granger, the things you do not know could fill so many books that not even you would be able to read them all.'

'Not to interrupt,' Harry interjected, 'but I'm interrupting.'

'You frequently do,' Daphne murmured.

'Sorry—' he grinned '—but not all that sorry. And especially not now when I'm stopping the two of you fighting over something you could both just not fight over.'

The corner of her mouth twitched. 'It would be a very short fight if we were to fight.'

'Probably yes,' Harry agreed. 'Because you don't have—'

'Any interest in losing,' Daphne finished. 'Now, Harry—'

'Actually, Miss Greengrass,' Professor Flitwick said. 'If you wouldn't mind finding your way to a seat. I would like to begin my lesson now.'

Daphne's winter blue gaze flicked away toward the back row. 'You know where to find me if you want to talk to someone who actually appreciates real magic.' She swept off.

'Thank you.' Professor Flitwick clambered up onto his stack of books to overlook the class, a huge smile beneath his long pointed nose. 'Today, we will be attempting the Disillusionment Charm. You've all studied the theory and history of the charm over the last two lessons, so now we're going to have a go. Be careful. Only disillusion the material provided. I don't expect anyone to accomplish it this lesson and it isn't required for your OWLs, but hopefully it will give you some idea of how difficult this charm really is.'

Ron groaned. 'So we won't even be able to do it. What's the point then?'

Professor Flitwick swished his wand, dropping blocks of dark wood the size of Harry's fist on the desks before each of them. 'Remember the wand motion, the incantation and theory we studied before.'

Hermione picked her wand up off the desk and drew a squashed, ovaloid spiral in the air with it.

Ron watched her with an air of apprehension. 'Don't tell me you can already do it, Hermione. You'll make all the rest of us look bad.'

Harry laughed. 'It's just turning invisible, right?'

'No, Harry,' Hermione said. 'Professor Flitwick said that even the most accomplished wizards struggle to use the charm to turn themselves actually invisible. It's more like being a magical chameleon.'

'Sounds silly,' he said. 'I think I'd rather be invisible and since my cloak has mysteriously and honestly rather concerningly disappeared, I will actually need to be able to do it.'

'Good luck,' Hermione replied. 'I think Professor Dumbledore's the only wizard I know who can.'

'Well now I'm taking this as a challenge.' Harry poked two fingers up his sleeve and pulled out his wand. 'Invisible, right?'

'Yes, Harry.' She drew the wand motion in the air. 'That's the motion. Do you know the incantation?'

'No.' He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing nothing but the dark beyond the stars, that silent, sightless watching gaze and its sharp wide smile waiting somewhere out there in the shadow.

And for a moment, Harry saw himself snared within that patient stare, standing barefoot on thin white ice above bottomless black waters and fading into creeping cold as the snow fell in a flurry of vast white flakes, swirling down from the thick veil of grey clouds hanging across the pale shining face of a silver moon so huge it filled near all the sky; he vanished beneath countless winters of drifting white snow, but only smiled at the bright, stark beauty as it piled up around his chest, and let every drop of magic he had disappear with him into that numb chill.

'Bloody hell,' Ron muttered.

'Harry…' Hermione whispered. 'Harry, how did you do that?'

'Do what?' Harry opened his eyes.

Professor Flitwick gaped from the top of his stack of books. 'Mr Potter… I have never seen a student cast the charm perfectly. And to do it on your first try…'

'He didn't even use a wand motion,' Neville squeaked.

'Or an incantation,' Dean added.

'Can you undo it?' Professor Flitwick said. 'Or do you need to go to the Hospital Wing and wait for it to wear off?'

Harry laughed. 'I can probably undo it.'

He pictured the shadow blossoming from the black, pouring out from beyond his sight, that patient, sharp, smile swirling into shape; and that shape was a single eye of burning gold, all sinking setting sunlight spilling across the sky, bleeding out, trickling away — the last fierce gasps of a dying star.

His invisibility drained away like water.

'A hundred points to Gryffindor,' Professor Flitwick declared. 'For what is possibly the most amazing piece of magic I have ever seen a student do. I would tell the headmaster, but…'

'You should tell Umbridge,' Harry said. 'She loves to hear about my accomplishments. Also tell Snape. He will be overjoyed. I'm finally living up to the celebrity status he's held me in since before I ever joined this school.'

A light tug came at his sleeve.

'I thought you were going to the back of the room.'

'That was amazing,' Daphne breathed, her blue eyes bright as clear spring skies.

'Do you reckon I can do it to Malfoy without anyone noticing?' Harry asked. 'How long would it take for it to wear off?'

'A while,' she murmured. 'But do not waste your magic on him. Save it for greater things.'

'But I really want to do it,' he protested. 'Can you imagine how annoyed he would be if nobody could see him for hours? Add a Silencing Charm and he might have a total breakdown.'

The corner of her mouth crooked. 'Surely you can think of a better use for this charm? Perhaps something you were intending to do soon…?'

'True,' Harry said. 'But Hermione is making me wait until after exams. Just in case.'

'It is your prophecy,' Daphne whispered. 'Go when you want.'

'He should go after exams,' Hermione snapped.

'Why are you always listening in, Her-My-Ow-Knee? Quick, Daphne, tell me about something Pure-bloodish, she'll get all disgusted and stop listening.'

'Stop calling me that or you'll be saying ow my knee when I hex you with boils.'

'Do you not want to go now?' Daphne asked.

'I wanted to go a while ago,' Harry admitted. 'Sometimes, when I get bored enough and have nothing to distract me, I start to feel really frustrated that it's just sitting there waiting and Voldemort might nip in and grab it at any moment, and then I get kind of angry about it.'

'But still you wait for the right moment.'

'Yes, Hermione is extremely annoying and overbearing when she's disobeyed.' Harry chuckled to himself. 'Also, she guilt-tripped me about being reckless and Voldemort's plans always fall apart when I get involved, so it'll probably work out anyway.'

'Then we will have to wait,' Daphne whispered. 'We are good at waiting. All of us are. And no matter how deep and cold and long Winter might feel, Spring is always coming. Great and green and full of hope.'

A small smile spread across Harry's face. 'I actually quite like that,' he confessed, thinking of the blackthorn grove, that small spring bubbling up from Briganti's feet.

And somewhere between those fragmented recollections something else stole in, a place of vibrant, verdant youthful green, of carpets of flowers blooming in countless colours, of thick green ferns, tangled wild brambles, great arching roots and towering trunks, brimming and singing and thrumming with magic, and all above another small bubbling spring, but not clear and cool, black as ink, dark as the shadow out beyond the reach of starlight and colder than the deepest, bitterest winter.

'It is beautiful,' Daphne breathed; her blue eyes were bright and brimming with that strange fierce yearning, and her lips were streaked with the crimson fizz of blood pops.

'Yes—' Harry swallowed a small storm of trembling, tingling, tickling butterflies '—it is.'

AN: Lots more of this story and many others available via the linktree!

linktr . ee / mjbradley