Nothing is mine.

A holl gwez yn y gwyrdd-gyd mhór, choronír y cælyn.

Past as the Days That Set

The Room of Requirement buzzed with muttering, a low distant hum that fell each time Harry glanced up, and rose again when he looked away; it rather reminded him of the sound of Aunt Petunia vacuuming her way along the landing outside his door. The source of the muttering, the students of the DA, sat on giant, multi-coloured bean bags strewn around the floor of the wide, white-walled room, watching Harry watch Hermione write bullet points across a giant floating blackboard.

Daphne sat cross-legged on a heap of crimson cushions at the back, a small pile of red-wrappered blood pops in the lap of her dark school skirt; she threaded the stem of a single scarlet dahlia through the slim blonde braid in her left hand, staring intently into the elegant curves of its pointed petals, then pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, sweeping it up into a knot with a deft twist of her hands. All her bright blonde braids cascaded down over her shoulders behind the crimson flower as she let it go and, somewhere in the pit of Harry's stomach, all the butterflies stirred, sensing, he suspected, another opportunity to do something unhelpful.

Daphne's winter blue eyes flicked up to him and beneath the rogue lock of fluttering gold before her face, the corner of her mouth crooked.

'Ronald,' Harry whispered, dragging his gaze away from Daphne to the ongoing essay on the blackboard. 'What's Hermione doing?'

'Dunno, mate.' Ron yawned. 'Something to do with the NEWT curriculum probably. Think she's going to write out the whole spec at this rate.'

'Er…' Marietta raised a nervous hand. 'Harry?'

'Yes?'

'When are we starting?'

Hermione sputtered. 'When are we starting?!'

'I think Hermione already has,' Harry whispered, as loud as he possibly could. 'Quick, pretend you were paying attention before she curses you with facial boils or something equally dark.'

The chalk snapped in Hermione's hand and the top half bounced across the floor between Ron's feet.

'Fine.' Hermione threw the other bit into the small copper bin that appeared beside the board. 'You know what? If you all just want to listen to this idiot, go ahead. Harry, what should we be learning this year?'

'Well, all your NEWT work, I'd think,' he said. 'But given we all have to learn that, we should probably try and learn it from the actual professor. Apparently, Snape actually knows loads about Defence Against the Dark Arts, so it's not like we can't learn it from him before the curse does what years of students' petitions couldn't. I don't know why anyone would be surprised, either; everyone's heard the rumours of his vampirism, he must know all about dark things.'

A little titter rippled through the room.

'I'll probably have to stake him,' Harry said with a wistful air. 'But that's what happens to vampires who are bad and try to bite without asking nicely.' He laughed to himself, catching Daphne's eye. 'I will only let extremely amazing and very beautiful jampires bite me; jampires are completely different, they're very sweet.'

She turned bright pink to the tips of her ears as the DA laughed.

'What should we learn then?' Smith asked. 'I quite like these meet-ups; can't we do something else and keep it going?'

Harry frowned. 'Well, I could teach you all some stuff that my cousin taught me. And maybe ask her to figure out what you guys should learn if that stuff isn't as useful to you.'

'Do you mean… Tonks?' Susan Bones poked a hand into the air. 'The first-class auror?'

'Yes, my favourite not baby cuz, Nymphadora, not to be confused with my other cousin, the newly dubbed Medium D.' He grinned. 'She showed me some stuff that might help you guys look after yourselves if you get caught up in anything dangerous like I inevitably will. It's only meant to help you get away, though, not pick a fight and win.'

Susan nodded. 'I can help. My Aunt showed me some things like this just in case one day I'm as strong as she is.' Her blue eyes dipped to the floor. 'But I'm not really very good at it.'

'That's okay. Apparently bruises are a great way to learn.' Harry paused. 'I'm pretty sure she only said that because she thinks it's funny to give me bruises, though.' He clapped his hands together. 'Okay then, let's do this!'

Hermione huffed as her blackboard disappeared. 'This had better be useful, Harry.'

'It is.' He offered her a bright grin. 'Nymphadora told me all the girls love a hands-on teacher.'

Hermione growled. 'Don't be weird.'

'So unreasonable.' He pointed at a rather pink Susan. 'Nobody else objected; Susan looks almost enthusiastic.'

'Just get on with it.' Hermione sighed. 'Before the urge to hit you grows so strong I can't resist it any longer.'

Harry cackled. 'Everyone line up and my shiny new teaching assistant Susan will show you how to stand.' A slim piece of wood, about a foot long, appeared in his hand. 'Thanks, room.' He swished it around. 'And then we'll show you the basic stances and blocks, which I assume is what this stick is for.'

Everyone shuffled into a line, chattering to each other as they stood waiting for Susan to work her way down the line.

Harry watched her go, flopping back into a huge heap of soft scarlet cushions. 'This is going very well. Susan is doing all the work for me.'

'Is it?' Hermione demanded. 'They look like they're about to start learning how to be the backup dancers to Billy Elliot.'

'Why are you still here?' he asked. 'You can't learn anything here, Hermione. You need to be in the line like a good student.'

She folded her arms. 'So what? Susan can get me to shuffle my feet around?'

'No. So you know how to balance and fall and block if you end up in a fight,' Harry explained. 'Even if you cannot use Agwyd—'

'Use what?' Hermione wrinkled her nose. 'I've never ever heard of that.'

'Means aura,' Ron said. 'Old word for it that still gets used now and again. Mum says it sometimes. Her brothers could do it a bit. Not properly, but a bit.'

'Oh.' She relaxed. 'It's the thing first-class aurors can do; I read about that. Sorry, Harry, I thought you were messing around and being stupid.'

'Not this time.' Harry laughed. 'This is handy stuff to know. Tonks said it's really important to know if you can conjure Agwyd, but even if you can't, it's useful if you lose your wand or don't have it. It can buy you a few seconds to run, or hide, or apparate if you're being attacked by someone who can't conjure Agwyd.'

'So it really is worth knowing even though we have wands, then.' Hermione bit at her lip. 'Okay, sorry. I'll get in the line.'

'Might as well stay here until Susan's nearer the end,' Ron reckoned. 'Otherwise we'll just be waiting there instead of here.'

Daphne drifted around the end of the line, dragging the entire heap of crimson cushions after her with one hand and ignoring the curious glances from the rest of the DA.

'Greengrass.' Harry stuck his nose in the air. 'What do you want?'

Daphne's lips twitched. 'I am just moving out of the way.'

Ron frowned. 'You weren't in the way—'

Harry nudged him with his elbow.

A long sigh escaped Hermione. 'Are you two really going to do this all year?'

'Do what?' Harry asked.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. 'That's a yes, isn't it? You two are worse than Ron and Lav.'

'Hey,' Ron objected. 'Lav and I aren't dating.'

'We were not dating last year either,' Daphne replied, her voice as cool as frost. 'People just heard a rumour.'

'That you started, Ronald,' Harry chimed in, feeling that the qualifier Daphne had added might not throw everyone off for very long if left to think about it. 'Daph — I mean Greengrass — was very upset; she is much too mildly evil to date me. The Hat said so. Actually, did it say so? You weren't sorted with the rest of us.'

Hermione groaned. 'Can I please change the subject?'

Harry nodded with as magnanimous an air as he could muster. 'You may, Her-My-Ow-Knee.'

'That's not even how Viktor said it,' she muttered. 'Anyway, after learning this, what then?'

'Not sure,' he admitted. 'I'll write a letter and ask Tonks. She'll know what's the best thing to learn if you can't conjure Agwyd.'

'Mate, we're sixteen, none of us can do that.'

Harry caught Daphne's eye and the brief flash of dimples on her cheeks; he laughed to himself.

'Okay, so we do that.' Hermione nodded. 'No, I see how that works. We learn all the usual courses and then we do this as well, and we're much better prepared for anything Voldemort does as a result.'

'He's busy pretending to be a saviour right now,' Harry said. 'I don't think he's very interested in me or any of us except maybe Dumbledore; he's after Pendragon.'

Hermione frowned. 'The wizard on the ICW?'

Daphne wrinkled her pretty nose.

'What?' Hermione demanded. 'He's the British wizard on the ICW, isn't he? There is one from every magical nation and he's ours.'

'Kind of,' Harry said. 'It's more like Pendragon rules absolutely over Britain and does whatever he wants because his family is close to all powerful, and he's also part of the ICW because of that.'

'Harry,' she said with such an air of exasperation he couldn't help but grin. 'The Ministry runs Britain. The ICW deals with worldwide affairs and decides on laws on a wider scale when things affect the entire magical world; Pendragon doesn't even have a position in the Ministry.'

'Harry is right, Granger,' Daphne replied. 'The ICW and its nobles have absolute power; they do whatever they must to keep it and to win their struggles against their rivals.'

'What?' Hermione scowled. 'Well, if it's corrupt and malignant, then it should be abolished, like the House of Lords!'

Harry snorted. 'How?'

'The Ministry leaves. If everyone just leaves and refuses to listen, then what can it do? Britain is a democracy; the people decide what should happen, that's why we elect a Minister for Magic.'

'That would not end very well,' Daphne murmured.

'Yeah…' Ron grimaced. 'We elect a Minister and all that, but when dad talks about his job, all the big laws he has to follow are set by the ICW. Whenever anything happens that involves a report going to the ICW, he gets really stressed and nervous. Mum hates it.'

Harry offered Hermione a cheerful grin. 'Basically, Pendragon has two hundred really dangerous people, is super-rich, has loads of other retainers, and we all live by his rules. He just lets the Ministry do the boring stuff like actually running the country because he's trying to beat other ICW members to being super important in Atlantis and doesn't want everyone who follows the Old Ways causing trouble for him while he does.'

Little patches of colour rose on Hermione's cheeks. 'That's… that's mediaeval!'

'The Ministry was created by the ICW to be a smokescreen and a puppet,' Daphne murmured. 'It has a handful of Agwydklezes and gets to make its own laws in conjunction with the Wizengamot as long as they abide by the ICW's dictat. Pendragon has a couple of hundred Agwydklezes. He could get rid of the Ministry and anyone else who annoys him overnight if he really wanted to. As long as he has those loyal Agwydklezes, he can do just about anything so long as the rest of the ICW do not interfere.'

Hermione turned to Ron. 'Agwyd-what?'

'First-class aurors,' Harry said. 'You know, Professor Dumbledore told me it's important to stop Voldemort because he will provoke Pendragon into doing something really bad, not just because he's murdering people in weird and almost impressively creative ways. And Maerdrid Pendragon sounds like the sort of guy who does really bad things if he wants to.'

Hermione glanced between Harry and Daphne. 'Professor Dumbledore said that?'

'Apparently, Pendragon has basically left the Ministry to do everything for the last fifty years,' Harry said. 'Which is better than it was before and Professor Dumbledore doesn't want that to end, particularly not if it ends with Maerdrid bringing the Graal-Kynak back from South America to murder everyone.'

'Are you trying to tell me Voldemort is the good guy?' Hermione demanded. 'Harry, did Professor Dumbledore tell you this or was it Greengrass?'

'So what if I did, Granger?' Daphne asked, crossing her arms.

'He's trying to use the faith of the Old Ways to take over from Pendragon,' Harry replied. 'He's not the good guy, no matter what some people say about him being a saviour. Voldemort doesn't save people; he just wants to be the new Pendragon.'

'It is impossible for Voldemort,' Daphne said.

Harry blinked. 'What happened to…?'

'Nobody knows where Avalon is, Harry,' Daphne said. 'Nobody outside of Pendragon's most loyal retainers and the Graal-Kynak have even been there and most of them still do not know its actual location. The last wizard or witch rumoured to know it outside of Pendragon's own family was Myrddin, and he disappeared just as his rebellion was about to start.'

'Got murdered, you mean,' he said. 'Still, I'm mostly just glad you've moved on from the wildly inaccurate idea that Voldemort is our saviour.'

'Well, how do you stop Pendragon, then?!' Hermione burst out. 'Because what's the point of getting rid of Voldemort if we're all still forced to do whatever Pendragon wants anyway?! Who can get rid of him or stop him?'

'I think Professor Dumbledore's argument was that Pendragon was the lesser evil,' Harry replied. 'Because Voldemort would be even worse and defeating Pendragon is all but impossible.'

'It is not impossible,' Daphne whispered. 'Not for you.'

'I also don't know where Avalon is, Daph,' Harry said. 'Nymphadora still hasn't even taught me how to make a blade and I only kill Defence Against the Dark Arts professors who get involved in Voldemort's overly complicated schemes. Usually not intentionally, either; it just seems to happen. I guess if I knew where Avalon was, I could ruin Pendragon's overly complicated schemes too, though; I'm good at ruining schemes.'

'Not yet,' she breathed, her blue eyes burning with desperate hope. 'But you will. A holl gwez yn y gwyrdd-gyd mhór, choronír y cælyn.'

Harry frowned at her. 'Daph, you know I don't understand much Brythonic, but the way you said that sounded horribly serious for another joke…'

'Of all the trees in the great greenwood, the holly shall be crowned,' she whispered. 'It is not Voldemort, it is you.'

He considered it, thought of her smiling in the snow, smiling in the shadow and somewhere in the dark beyond the stars, so patient and ever so hungry, and he thought of that breathtaking glimpse of green he'd dreamt of from time to time and always yearned to dream of again after he woke. And, realising that nothing about that seemed fair or fun or fine, he decided to not consider it after all. 'Glossing over that, because I don't like it—'

'It is you.' Daphne grabbed his wrist, her knuckles white about her handful of blood pops. 'You fit all the signs. Holly is a winter wood; it is evergreen. And you have it with a phoenix feather... Umbridge fell before you just as it was foreseen; look at the magic you can do, look at how strong you are, every sign that is spoken of, you fit. You are the last child of your bloodline, born from last branch of withered tree. Come from setting sun, born minutes before Heol Gwyl Céimnyth, the Feast of the Waning Sun. You survived the Killing Curse as a baby, something not even Agwydklezes or Y Syd a Hunvreal yn Angau can do…'

Hermione scoffed. 'What utter nonsense.'

Daphne turned a cold stare on her, her blue eyes as sharp as icicles. 'You know nothing about true magic, Granger; you treat it like a tool. Waving your wand around like a stick to do pathetic little spells; you are an insult to our ancestors and the Veiled World both.'

Harry cleared his throat. 'I said glossing.'

'Ron,' Hermione hissed. 'Tell her she's wrong!'

'I don't know much about this stuff.' Ron shrugged. 'And who cares? No point fighting over it, is there? If it's nonsense, it's nonsense. And Harry's Harry.'

She huffed her cheeks out. 'Harry, do not listen to Greengrass. She just sees what she wants to see. Encouraging religious extremists is a very stupid thing to do.'

Daphne turned her pretty nose up. 'I know what I see; I know what I feel. Harry is here. Ken y tyachtfech.'

Harry frowned. 'I know what you want, Daph,' he murmured under his breath. 'You want someone to come and save your sister. But… I don't think it can be real, you know. How could it be? Some of it is beautiful, but not all of it, and it's been so long. Surely the ICW made it up to trap you all; it's exactly the sort of thing it sounds like they'd do.'

'There will be more signs.' Daphne folded her arms across her chest. 'You will see.' The corner of her mouth crooked. 'That is what Dwyr Sy'n Tystio means. He who has seen. And I know you see things.'

'Because I have a connection to Voldemort,' Harry said. 'Not because I'm going to murder all the Muggles.' He mustered a grin. 'Can you imagine how upset Hermione would be if I stole her thunder like that?'

'She didn't even deny what she wants you to do,' Hermione muttered. 'Genocidal monster.'

Daphne twitched; her face tightened and something horribly fragile flashed through her cool blue eyes.

A little spark of anger flared in Harry's chest. 'Don't call her a monster,' he snapped.

Hermione glowered at him. 'Just because she's pretty, wears flowers in her hair and a short skirt for you doesn't make her any less of a—'

Harry slashed his hand through the air.

Hermione's lips kept moving, but nothing came out, and her eyes widened.

'Er… mate,' Ron said. 'Maybe undo that? She doesn't really mean it; you know what she's like when she gets into one.'

Harry fixed Hermione with a long look. 'Do not call her a monster. Ever. Again.'

Hermione clapped her mouth shut and clenched her jaw.

He released the magic, letting it slip through his fingers like melting snow.

'When you realise how horrible all her extremism is, I'm going to say I told you so, Harry.' Hermione scowled at Daphne. 'And I'm watching you; I don't trust you.'

'I do not care.' Daphne crunched on a blood pop, staining her lips crimson with scarlet fizz. 'I will follow Harry wherever he leads, because I know in the end where he will lead us.'

Harry sighed. 'I'd rather not; I have a pretty good idea of what bringing Winter means.' He recalled the shadow blossoming above the snow into her and the blazing gold of her eye; remembered how the hungry light of it burnt and faded and died, the last bloodstained gasp of the setting sun. 'Death.'

'Yr gwyan, y Goanv,' Daphne whispered. 'Nestra caillte, cwbl ach chyñch.'

Harry stared at her. 'I know, but I don't want to, Daph,' he whispered. 'I really don't. I like to help people, to save them, not…'

'You will be saving them,' she breathed. 'Saving them from being smothered in a dwindling, dying world. They will be Aileni yn Marvoleth. A small part of all the beauty of Gwell Gwer Gwanwyn, our Great, Green Spring. Things have to die to be reborn; that is how it is. Summer, Autumn, Winter, then reborn anew in Spring. We cannot hide in the mud forever or everything will be lost.'

'Nonsense.' Hermione stomped away, dragging Ron after her toward the end of Susan's line. 'I don't want to hear any more of it.'

'I doubt that bit's real, Daph.' Harry offered Daphne a helpless little smile. 'But I wouldn't want to do that anyway. I just want to be with my friends and with you, and for everyone to be happy. Why should it have to be like this? It's not right; it's… it's not fair.'

'Life is not fair; I was born cursed for no sin of my own.' Daphne's fingers traced a small heart across the back of his hand, but the hope in her eyes burnt dire and desperate as the sinking, setting sun. 'We all of us need saving from this dying world, Harry; it is you.'

AN: Loads and loads more of this and all my other things available to read via the link (and FFN seems to still being weird about chapter updates sometimes, which I cannot fix, only say that you can hop across to Ao3 or my own site if you want to read it there)

linktr . ee / mjbradley