Daphne was uncomfortable, and unless her months-long observation of Harry Potter had taught her nothing, so was he. Despite the fact that all of the others were recovering from injuries of varying seriousness, the mood in the Hospital Wing was upbeat. The Weasley girl was reading from the morning Prophet, while her brother and Granger had a running commentary mocking the media's (and the Ministry's, by proxy) about-face.
Both Harry and Dumbledore received glowing praise in the article, offered up as champions standing against the returned Dark Lord. Two beds away from Granger, Neville was all smiles despite two cotton balls sticking out from his nostrils, his head held high; Luna sat in a chair nearby with the latest issue of the Quibbler upside down in front of her.
She would have felt very out of place among the six of them had it not been for Harry's reaction. He was quiet, nodding along at the right places, but he looked like he'd prefer to be talking about anything but the previous night.
"-how fast things went back to normal. Dumbledore didn't waste any time, did he?"
"I guess not," Harry replied.
Ron chewed on a chocolate frog thoughtfully, swallowing and then continuing. "He came in here earlier, asking about what happened to Umbridge. Says the centaurs let her go, but no one's seen her."
Daphne stiffened, trying hard to keep her reaction imperceptible. "Maybe she already went back to the Ministry?" Granger asked, her tone unconcerned as she eased herself down from her seated position.
"Eh, does it really matter? She's probably humiliated at being so easily tricked into the centaur's territory."
She really didn't want to talk about their former Headmistress. Daphne's breath was short, like she'd been walking up the Grand Staircase for an hour. Thankfully, Granger changed the subject.
"Speaking of centaurs… do you think that Firenze will keep teaching? It didn't seem like he'd be welcomed back in the forest anytime soon."
"Who cares?" Ron asked, rubbing a potion on the wounds covering his arms. "Divination's nonsense, anyway."
"I don't know," Luna said without looking up from her magazine. "The Death Eaters seemed to think there was something to the prophecy we were fighting over."
Ron flushed, ducking his head momentarily and rubbing at his arms a bit more fervently, while Granger and the other Weasley glanced warily at Harry.
"It's a shame that it broke before we could hear it."
'What prophecy?' Daphne wondered, seeing the thoughtful regret on Ron and the girls' faces, and the cagey nervousness on Longbottom's.
"I've got to go."
"What- where?"
Harry was tense, rising to his feet suddenly. "I'm- Hagrid, he's- I gotta go."
Everyone, Daphne included, watched him leave in awkward silence. Without him there, Daphne felt intensely out of place. "I should probably head out, too."
"You don't have to," Luna said, lowering the Quibbler for the first time since she'd come in, her trademark dreamy smile on her face. "You're with friends!"
"Thanks, Luna. I'm glad you all are okay, but I need to get some sleep."
That wasn't a lie - Daphne had been up since the morning before their History of Magic OWL, and the exhaustion was pulling at her like there were lead weights lining her clothes. Offering one last wave, she left the Hospital Wing and dragged herself down the stairs to the dungeons.
Breakfast had finished more than an hour before, and it seemed that most students were off enjoying their last day at Hogwarts before the summer holiday. Daphne entered her dorm and collapsed onto her bed, not bothering to change out of her filthy clothes.
"Where have you been?"
Turning her head, she looked over at Tracey. "Nowhere."
"Pansy was looking for you."
Daphne rolled over onto her back and shrugged. "She probably just wanted to talk about last night."
"I can't believe- it's really scary," Tracey said. "What do you think is going to happen?"
"What do you mean?" Daphne asked. "Dumbledore's back, everything will go back to the way it was."
"You think he can beat You-Know-Who?"
"Oh - I thought you were talking about what happened last night with the Inquisitorial Squad."
Tracey was nearing hysterical. "What if he attacks my mother? She's- I'm sure you've heard the stories about the last war!"
"Well, Harry and Dumbledore caught a bunch of You-Know-Who's best last night, didn't they? Maybe this time will be different."
"Yea. Maybe," Tracey said, but didn't sound convinced. "I'm going to send a letter to my parents now that the Owlery is open again."
The door to their room closed behind her, and Daphne shut her eyes, surrendering at last to sleep.
It was still light out when she woke up. Daphne grimaced, feeling her dirty clothes clinging to her like a second skin. The dorms were still empty, and a quick tempus explained why - she'd awoken directly in the middle of dinner.
Stripping off her clothing, Daphne marched into the shower and scrubbed herself pink. Even though hunger gnawed at her stomach, she had no intention of joining the other students in the Great Hall. Instead, she took advantage of the empty dorm and pulled out her second trunk, opening it to find Elysant glaring up at her.
"I'd thought you might have forgotten about me."
"Be quiet and listen, I've got a lot to tell you."
The portrait stared impassively while Daphne relayed the events of the last week, remaining quiet up until the point where she told of Harry flying off to London.
"I hope now you understand why I've been pressing you to be more assertive in your pursuit," Elysant said.
"I've been making progress! And he made it back safely!"
"Of course he did! That much is obvious by your reaction. Give me some credit, child. Have you thought about how you will meet with him this summer?"
"I- no. Everything's been happening so fast…"
"This is why we have to make plans! Your sister doesn't have time for you to fumble your way blindly, this is our only chance!"
"Fine. If you're so smart, what have you got?"
The portrait, much to her chagrin, didn't hesitate in coming up with a suggestion. "Sedgwick was an excellent woodsman, incorporating magic in his hunting."
"What's your point?"
"Hunters track their prey. Have you even bothered to research any spells that might allow you to follow Potter to his guardians' home?"
She hadn't. "Well-"
"And how exactly are you planning on getting there if you do manage to track him?"
"I could- um, well, there's always the Knight Bus…"
"The what?"
"It's- never mind. I'll figure something out," Daphne promised, although her voice was less than confident. "I should probably go to the library-"
"Wait. Finish telling me what happened."
"There isn't a lot more to tell," Daphne responded cagily, choosing to leave out what happened with- what she'd done in the Forest when retrieving her robes.
"No? He survived the Dark Lord once more and there's nothing to tell? Did anyone notice? Was he injured? Now isn't the time to hold things back."
"Harry wasn't hurt, and yea, it was the front-page story in the newspaper this morning."
"And that's it," Elysant stated.
"What more do you want me to say?"
"A celebrity, a boy considered a hero, does something extraordinary once again and you do nothing?" The portrait paused for a moment, then continued in a low, angry voice. "You naive, ignorant, stupid girl-"
Daphne knew from experience not to let her wind up when Elysant started in on her like this. "Get to the point, you old bag."
"Before, he was ostracised. He was tarred as a liar, unstable, even criminal. And now? He'll be more popular than ever!"
"I know that," Daphne interjected. "They're calling him the 'Chosen One'."
"See? Do you understand why I'm so frustrated with you?"
"You're acting like I've been lazing about for weeks. This all happened last night!"
"I'm trying to make you understand how the situation has changed. Potter will have options now, witches who are smarter, better connected, and much more beautiful than you!"
That stung, and Daphne couldn't hold her tongue. "Shut up! You don't know anything! He- I met with him this morning. Harry doesn't care about how the rest of the country sees him! The only thing he cared about was- look, his godfather died at the Ministry last night. Harry doesn't see it as a triumph, he-"
"His godfather died?"
"Yes, trying to save him from the Dark Lord's trap."
Elysant wore a thoughtful expression. "That's good information. We can work with this, use his loss to-"
"No!" Daphne shook her head, the memory of Harry's grief stricken posture in the Astronomy Tower flashing through her mind's eye. "Whatever you're about to say, don't. I won't do that to him."
"What happened to your determination? To doing whatever it takes to save your sister?"
"I still- nothing's changed. That just doesn't seem like a good tactic. It- um, it's too risky."
Her ancestor's portrait stared intently at her for several seconds, eventually nodding. "Fine. You should get to work, time is running out."
Daphne closed the trunk's lid with an odd sense of relief at their conversation's end. A moment later, though, a wave of guilt washed over her as she fully processed Elysant's accusation. Was she betraying Astoria by refusing to use his godfather's death to manipulate him? After all, hadn't last night proven there was no act too extreme in her pursuit for a cure?
Questions like that weren't worth pondering, she ultimately decided, leading down roads better left untravelled. Doing her best to push her feelings to the side, she shoved the trunk back beneath her bed and mentally tallied her ever-growing list of tasks to accomplish before the Express departed tomorrow.
First things first, she'd need to send her parents a letter telling them she'd go home with Pansy from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, to establish an alibi while she followed Harry home. Next to the library, to research methods of tracking. Lastly, it would be nice to find a better option than the Knight Bus - Daphne only took it once, and wasn't eager to repeat the experience. Besides, it would be harder for Harry to turn her away if there wasn't such an obvious option to take her away.
Her stomach growled, and she ruthlessly quashed any thoughts of stopping for a quick bite. Pansy had been right the night before - she could stand to miss a few meals.
Madam Pince raised her eyebrows when Daphne asked for help locating books on hunting, but nonetheless an exhaustive search of the Hogwarts catalog produced exactly four texts that fit the bill. Two of them were only tangentially related, more suited to Care of Magical Creatures than hunting. Another was a business handbook, a treatise on the market volatility around creature ingredients.
She found her answer in the fourth book, thankfully. 'The Great Chase: How Not to Play Games with Your Game' was hundreds of years old, a step-by-step guide on tracking, killing, and harvesting animals. The description of some of the spells turned Daphne's stomach ('Really, a spell that ejected eyeballs?'), but buried within its pages, she found what she was looking for.
She found a tracking spell for hunters, indago, cast on samples of fur from their prey. It was far from precise but the best she could manage, given the time she had to research. This particular charm caused the caster's wand to vibrate the closer that they came to their target.
Daphne roamed the halls until she found Mrs Norris, grabbing a few hairs from the mangy feline and practicing the spell until she was comfortable casting it and understanding the effects on her wand as she approached and retreated. There was the problem of getting some of Harry's 'fur', but at least she had a plan.
Unfortunately, the nature of this spell meant that the Knight Bus was definitely not an option. She could hardly ask the operator to just drive around while she tried to work out his location. What she needed was her own form of transportation. There was, however, one tiny issue with that plan: she didn't own a broom. It's not as though she could nick one of the school's and take it on the Express with her.
Wait! She knew where there was a broom. A top-of-the-line, professional quality racing broom. Harry's Firebolt! Umbridge had locked it up somewhere in the dungeons. Everyone had heard the rumour that there was a security troll guarding it, but Daphne knew better. Not even the Ministry used security trolls any longer, and Gringotts wasn't known for loaning out their guards.
Two hours passed, and Daphne had seen no sign of the broom. Why was this castle so bloody big? Her feet hurt, and her mouth filled up with saliva every time she had even the most passing thought of food. She needed help, or she'd be searching until the Express left the station.
"Dobby?" She'd never tried summoning an elf that didn't belong to her family.
'Pop!' "Miss Greeny calls for Dobby?" 'Yes! It worked!'
"I, um, I need help to do a favour for Harry," she started, and the little elf looked like he might faint in excitement. "I want to give him his broom back on the Express, but I don't know where Professor Umbridge hid it. I've looked everywh-"
"Dobby knows where Harry Potter's broom be kept!"
"Really? Could you take me there?"
He looked unsure, pulling off the hat she bought him and crumpling it into a wrinkled mess. "Mean Headmistress ordered elveses to keep Harry Potter's broom secret."
"But Headmaster Dumbledore is back, isn't he? So you aren't disobeying the Headmaster's orders if you show me."
Dobby plopped the smashed hat back on his head and smiled happily. "Okay, Dobby will take Miss Greeny to Harry Potter's broom!"
"Yes!" Daphne took a breath and started following the elf through the corridor back the way she'd come. They walked up a level, then another, then another. "Are you just taking me to the kitchens?"
"Dobby is taking Miss Greeny to Harry Potter's broom."
And indeed, they continued past the kitchens, ascending the staircase to the ground level. They walked past the Great Hall, past the antechamber where she'd waited with the other students for their OWL practicals, finally coming to a halt just a few steps away from the Entrance Hall.
"Is it- did she put it outside, on the grounds?"
Dobby shook his head. "It be right here," he said, pointing.
"What? But that's a-" Daphne felt a momentary surge of respect for just how Slytherin of a move this was. After all of the threats of security trolls and locked dungeons, to hide it here? She opened the door and stepped inside.
It was her first time inside one of these. It was dark, much darker than she'd imagined. Lighting her wand, she spotted the Firebolt immediately. She reached out and lifted up the broom, taking one more look around. It was cramped, sure, but wasn't that the point? Daphne closed her eyes, imagining for a moment being held the way she was in the Astronomy Tower, pressed against the wall, his lips claiming her own…
"Miss Greeny?"
Her eyes snapped open. "I've got it," she replied, coming out of the broom closet and closing the door behind her. "You're a very good elf, Dobby. When I come back in the fall, I'm going to bring you a new outfit."
Dobby blushed to the tips of his ears. "Miss Greeny be a kind and generous witch."
"I want to surprise him with this, so please don't mention anything to Harry about helping me find his broom."
He agreed, and she went back to the Slytherin dorms. It was late; she must have spent longer searching the dungeons than she'd realised. There were a few Seventh Years still up, likely reminiscing on their final night at Hogwarts, but they paid her no mind as she slipped into the common room.
The Fifth Year's room was silent, and Daphne slipped into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.
Perhaps because she'd spent so much of the previous day asleep, Daphne woke up earlier than usual. Then again, she considered, it might have been her empty stomach demanding some form of sustenance that had her wide awake just after dawn. Regardless, she quietly completed the packing that she'd neglected in the insanity of the last several days, taking care to shrink her second trunk and store it in the pocket of her robes, alongside the shrunken broomstick.
That task completed, she made her way up to breakfast. Predictably, she was the first one to arrive, standing outside the Great Hall and shifting from foot to foot. Only a few minutes after she arrived, though, a surprising voice called her name.
"'lo Greengrass!"
"Weasley," she greeted in return. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh, this?" He rolled up the sleeve of his robes, showing where there were once wounds, were now just angry red marks. "Pomfrey's got me right as rain. Doesn't even hurt. Even Hermione's well enough to ride the train."
"That's good."
They stood in awkward silence for a long moment. "Thanks, you know, for the other night. Ginny told me what happened, in Umbridge's office." She only nodded in reply, so he went on. "Did you- uh, I mean, your Housemates haven't given you any grief over it, have they?"
Daphne glanced up and down the corridor, double-checking to make sure they were alone. "As far as they know, your sister took my wand. I guess I got lucky."
"That's good."
"Where's Harry?" That question, far from innocuous, slipped out unbidden.
Ron just chuckled, leaning against the wall opposite the massive doors of the Great Hall. "Was wondering when you were going to ask. He stuck around to chat with Hermione."
"I see I'm not the only one eager for breakfast. There were many times during my sabbatical that I found myself yearning for the fare our elves provide," the Headmaster interrupted, waving his hand in greeting to them as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. "After you."
Daphne settled in at the empty Slytherin table, trying to exercise portion control in the face of full platters of mouth-watering food. She spooned some eggs onto a plate, had a piece of dry toast, and treated herself to a rasher of bacon, trying to hide her jealousy as Weasley fashioned himself a truly monumental breakfast sandwich.
More students trickled in, but Daphne's window to obtain something of Harry's for her tracking spell was quickly closing, so she didn't tarry. As she left the Great Hall, her roommates were just entering.
"Where have you been hiding?" Pansy asked.
"Nowhere," she answered easily. "Just letting off steam after OWLs."
"Yea?"
"Miss Parkinson, perhaps you could move this gripping conversation out of the entrance-way," Professor Snape said. "Some of us have yet to eat."
"You all should go ahead, I need to finish packing," Daphne said, moving out of the way to allow their Head of House past.
She checked the Hospital Wing, but besides Granger, it was empty. She weighed checking the Astronomy Tower, but her legs still ached from the previous night's search for Mrs Norris and Harry's broom. Having a full meal left her sleepy and lethargic, so instead she returned to the dorms and prepared for the Express, taking a long shower and applying her potions and creams.
In almost no time at all, the students gathered to ride the carriages to the Hogsmeade station. Daphne tried and failed to join in with her roommate's idle chatter, but she couldn't speak past the lump in her throat as she stared at thestrals for the first time.
"C'mon, are you getting in, or are you going to stand there and daydream?" Lily asked.
Once they'd boarded the train, Daphne excused herself, promising to return with sweets from the snack trolley. It didn't take long to find Harry's compartment, two carriages down from her own. The steady stream of well-wishers marching in and out was a clear giveaway. It seems Elysant had been frustratingly prescient about his new popularity, judging by the way several of the girls she passed had buttons strategically undone, or skirts several inches shorter than usual.
Still, she doubted that he greeted any of them with the smile he graced her with.
"Hey, I was going to get some snacks. Want to come with me?"
Weasley immediately made several requests for various sweets, and Harry promised to return soon, standing and joining her in the rocking train corridor.
"So, are you excited for the holiday?"
He shrugged. "Not really."
"Do you have any plans?"
"I normally spend the last month with the Weasleys," he said, then pivoted the conversation to her. "What about you? Are you going anywhere?"
"Maybe. I haven't written to my parents in a while." Her response was evasive, but true - she wasn't eager to face her mother again, not after their last encounter.
Harry wore a strange expression after she said that, pausing in the corridor and turning fully to look at her. This was her chance! "Daphne-"
"Your hair is a mess," she said, giving him an easy grin and running one hand through his hair. "Don't you own a comb?" Harry winced, and she quickly withdrew her hand. "Oops, sorry."
"No problem."
She tucked the hand with the hair she'd plucked from his head into her pocket. "Well, I should really get back to my compartment."
"What about the snack trolley?" he asked, obviously perplexed at her abrupt departure.
"I'm sure she'll be by my compartment later," Daphne said, edging away from him. She couldn't take the chance of losing the hair in her pocket. "Bye Harry! Have a good summer!"
The moment she left the carriage he was in, she pulled her hand out of her pocket, carefully wrapping the short black hair in a handkerchief and tucking it away in her robes. She did it! Now, all she'd need to do is cast the tracking spell before she left the Express, wait til sundown, and then she'd fly to where Harry lives and- and…
Her mind flashed to that moment in the broom closet, when she was retrieving Harry's Firebolt. It was just part of the plan, she told herself. The only reason she was doing this was for her sister. They'd be away from Hogwarts, away from his admirers and her Housemates, with nothing to distract him from what would be standing right in front of him-
"What are you smiling about?"
"Huh- Pansy? I'm not- did you come looking for me?"
"We need to talk."
"Okay…" Daphne stretched the word out, following Pansy into the compartment she gestured towards. How did she manage to find an empty compartment? "Where's Draco?"
"I don't know. He's been having a hard time, you know, everything with his father and all."
The door slid shut behind Pansy. "So, um, what's-"
Pansy's slap sent her spinning to the ground. "Did you think I didn't see what happened? What you did?!"
"Ow! What-" Daphne cried out in pain as Pansy jerked her up by two handfuls of her hair.
"You let the Weaselette go that night. You're the reason we all got hexed, why Dumbledore came back, why Draco's dad went to Azkaban!"
"I- I didn't-"
Pansy spun her around, and now that they were facing each other, Daphne was shocked to see tears streaming down her cheeks. "You were my best friend! We were always supposed to be there for each other! But you threw me over, and for what? For some half-blood?"
"Get off of me!" Daphne pushed her roommate back, but doing so cost her a handful of hair.
"Stop screaming," Pansy commanded, her emotion giving way to a cold fury. "I trusted you, and you betrayed me!"
"You don't own me, and I don't owe you anything! A real friend wouldn't turn on me just because of the boy I like!"
"The boy you-" Pansy at first seemed flummoxed by her outright admission, but in a second anger replaced her confusion and she leapt at Daphne once more.
There was no element of surprise this time, and Daphne gave as good as she got. The two rolled back and forth on the compartment floor, punching, clawing and wrestling for several minutes before a passing Hufflepuff prefect broke up the fight, leaving them restrained on opposite sides of the compartment.
"-don't move, I'll be back with the Head Girl!" The compartment door slid shut, and the two glared at each other.
"Why him? How is he worth giving me up, giving up everything you had?"
Daphne wished she could touch the back of her head, her scalp feeling like it was on fire where Pansy had ripped out a clump of hair. "I didn't give you up. You gave up on me."
"All you've done is lie to me, this whole term!"
She couldn't deny that, so she didn't, choosing instead to sit and stare at Pansy. Finally, she asked, "Will you tell the others?"
"What?"
"The rest of the House. Will you tell them about what I did in Umbridge's office?"
Pansy glanced out the compartment door, where the prefect from before was talking animatedly with the Head Girl. "I don't know. I should, you'd deserve anything they'd do to you."
The door opened before she could continue, and the Head Girl started her largely meaningless lecture. She was graduating, and with the year being over, it wasn't as though she could take points or assign detentions. They nodded at the appropriate times and promised it wouldn't happen again. Then Pansy left.
Daphne stayed in the empty compartment, staring out the window at the passing countryside for the rest of the trip. Losing Pansy didn't hurt as much as it did after Valentine's Day; there had been a certain inevitability present throughout their reconciliation. Still, the timing of this break, with the end of the school year, with what had happened after OWLs added a weight of finality that left her emotionally numb. At that moment, all she wanted to do was go home and see her family. To see Astoria.
Instead, as the whistle blew and the Express rolled to a stop at Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Daphne withdrew her wand and the wrapped hairs. This was it.
"Indago," she incanted.
The Firebolt was an incredible broomstick. Daphne whooped with joy as she made a sharp loop, feeling the wind in her hair. Her wand vibrated steadily in her sleeve, a comforting pulse informing her that she was closing in on Harry's residence.
After she got off the Express, she waded through the ocean of muggles and summoned the Knight Bus, taking it to Diagon Alley. She window-shopped for an hour or so until the sun set, and then hopped on the Firebolt and set off.
The tracking charm was vibrating more and more frequently, which didn't make any sense. She was clearly over a muggle town, and while there were some mixed communities where wizards lived among muggles, Daphne couldn't imagine any self-respecting magical family living here. Even in the darkness, she could easily make out row after row of sameness, of cheap and squalid muggle residences.
She flew on, idly wondering if her parents would buy her a Firebolt if she asked. 'Probably not,' she grudgingly admitted. It cost a veritable mountain of gold, and Daphne didn't play quidditch. Still, though, flying it was quite fun, and she-
Firebolts apparently were also able to brake to a standstill in seconds, as Daphne came to a halt in mid-air. It wasn't noticeable right away, but the vibrations of her wand were spacing out. She'd overshot her target.
Looping once more, Daphne slowed her rate of speed and started retracing her path. Sure enough, the pulses increased their frequency again. When they reached a near constant rate, she reduced her altitude, slowly floating along and peering at each house. They all looked identical; how was she to tell which was his? Eventually, she decided on a plan of dismounting the broom and approaching, on foot, relying on the tracking spell to determine where Harry lived.
Taking a deep breath, Daphne approached the house she'd decided was his. 'What time is it, anyway?' she wondered absently, noting that many of the interior lights were extinguished already. It couldn't be that late; one upstairs window with bars over the frame showed a lamp's glow.
'This must be a dangerous neighborhood' Daphne thought. The bars were actually rather understandable given the snores coming from the suspiciously whiskey-scented bushes out front. She knocked on the door.
A clatter of loud thuds ensued, so loud that she wondered whether this was all a trick. Instead, the door opened and a mustachioed man seemingly as wide as Hagrid was tall peered out.
"What do you want? Surely nothing good, bothering decent people at this hour!"
"Hello," Best to attempt to be polite, though the appearance of this massive muggle made her want to recoil in horror. "I'm looking for Harry Potter."
The muggle's face slowly turned a revolting shade of puce, mustache trembling, like a tea kettle nearing boil. "The boy? I suppose you're one of them, then, aren't you? Aren't you?!" His volume was gradually rising. "Well you can tell those- those unnatural sorts that I won't suffer constant intrusion! GET OUT!"
"What's going on, Vernon?" A weedy, angular woman with an unnaturally long neck appeared, barely visible around the great muggle's vast bulk. A muggle lamp above their front door flicked on, illuminating Daphne fully and a dramatic gasp came from the woman's mouth. "She's- she's a- ooohhh!" A soft thump announced the woman must have collapsed.
"PET! What did you do to her, you little monster?" Vernon reached out to grab her, but Daphne leapt backward out of his reach. "How DARE you come to my home and attack my wife! We haven't touched the boy, treated him better than he deserves. Now get off my property!"
Something was very, very wrong here.
"Stay back," she warned, drawing her wand. She'd already been attacked once today and wasn't eager to repeat the occurrence. "Don't touch me."
The great muggle reared back like she was the Dark Lord himself, and she used his momentary withdrawal to step into the doorway he'd vacated, while a soft crack! sounded from outside. "Harry! Are you here?"
Another, different fat lump came to the top of the stairs. "I'll unlock his door, please don't hurt my dad!"
"Unlock- you lock him in his room? Like a caged animal?" This time it was Daphne advancing on the great muggle, the tip of her wand aimed directly between his eyes. "Do you have any idea who he is? What he means to our people?"
The beady eyes of the muggle crossed, staring at her wand before darting to Daphne's face. "Y-you don't scare me. I know you're not allowed to use magic outside of that school of yours. It's illegal! The boy told us so himself!"
"You really don't know, do you? Three days ago, Harry fought the Dark Lord to a standstill at the Ministry of Magic. Tell me, muggle-" her voice lowered, almost to a hiss. "-how you think our people would react to how you're treating him?"
"Daphne."
She briefly shifted her gaze to the staircase where Harry stood before refixing on the muggle. "Are you all right, Harry?"
"I'm fine, let him go, he's not worth it."
Daphne took another step towards the muggle, his stench almost turning her stomach, and whispered, "If I hexed you sideways, I bet the Minister would pin all kinds of medals on my robes, after how you've treated him. You better remember that, muggle." Once she was sure her threat had sunk in, she turned to face Harry. "Can we go to your room?"
He blushed, but that embarrassment vanished the moment he got a good look at her. "What happened to you?" he asked, hurrying to reach her, his face twisting in anger. "Who did this to you?"
She winced as his hand grazed her cheek, where Pansy had slapped her earlier. Oh. The buffeting winds had numbed her face, and the focus that following the tracking spell required had caused her to forget her injuries. She must look like a wreck! "It's nothing."
Harry gave her an impassive stare, then took her hand and started pulling her upstairs, calling out over his shoulder. "Uncle Vernon, this is a friend of mine from school. She's not here to hurt you."
The only response from his uncle was a muted grunt, and Harry led her up the stairs to a cramped but tidy bathroom. He opened a cabinet hidden behind the mirror, withdrawing various muggle chemicals and bandages.
"Stay put for a second," he commanded, then vanished for a few moments before returning with a rag balled around something.
Very gently, Harry applied what she belatedly recognised as alcohol to the scratches and wounds that Pansy had left, pressing a cold rag against her cheek. It was an oddly intimate scene.
He didn't seem to share that sentiment, closing the lid of the toilet and guiding her to sit down before squatting on his heels in front of her. Harry had a grim expression.
"I guess I should have figured it out sooner."
"What do you mean?" He hadn't- no, there was no way he could know about her plan!
"Your family did this to you, didn't they?"
It took her a second to understand exactly what he was implying, and even once she did, Daphne was too surprised to respond right away. "Wait, you think-"
"I'm sorry, I really am. If anyone should have recognised the signs, it should have been me."
"What signs?"
He ran a hand through his hair, then held her wrist to press the cold rag she'd lowered back against her cheek. "The things you've said, they all add up. Being hungry all the time, not writing home, getting hurt the day you came back from Hogwarts. You think I couldn't put that together? Why haven't you told anyone?"
'He thinks- Harry thinks my parents abuse me?' She opened her mouth to tell him he was wrong, that he misunderstood, that it wasn't what he imagined. But before she could speak, Daphne realised he had just made a tacit confession of his own. What was it he'd said? 'If anyone should have recognised the signs, it should have been me.'
"Why haven't you?"
Their eyes met, and Harry looked so ashamed, so vulnerable that she immediately regretted turning his question around at him in such a manner. Her guilt only intensified when he sighed and gave her that crooked grin of his. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"
Harry was close, less than a foot separating them inside the small bathroom. All she had to do was wrap her arms around his neck, and pull him just a little closer… but she hesitated, the guilt from tacitly lying about how her parents treated her, all the more so after in the discovery of how his relatives did treat him causing her to bite her lip and look away.
She heard him clear his throat. "So, uh, what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to give you back your broomsti- oh! Your Firebolt! I left it outside!"
"Wait, you flew here? How did you even know where my relatives' house is?"
"Um…" 'C'mon, think!' "I- I sent a letter and followed my family's owl."
"What?! Merlin, Daph, have you lost your flipping mind?"
"It was dark! How would a muggle see me at night?"
"That's hardly the point! What if you hit a power line? Or, Merlin forbid, a helicopter?"
She stared at him blankly. What was a hell-e-, a-, what was he talking about? "I just- I had to see you."
"Why?"
"I was worried about you."
He gave her a sceptical look, then sighed, putting a hand on her elbow and leading her out of the bathroom. "Here, I'll show you to the guest room."
"You mean- I can stay?"
"Absolutely not!" Apparently, Harry's aunt had come to and followed them upstairs. "That's Marge's room, as you well know! I'll not have her sort sullying it! You won't turn this into a house of ill-repute!"
A series of cracks from outside, followed shortly after by the fat muggle's roar of outrage paused their argument.
"OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Harry groaned, rubbing his face. "Great, just great."
"What? Who's there?"
"My watchers."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"It's the people that Professor Dumbledore assigned to guard me while I'm here," Harry said. "Well, come on, no use putting it off."
Daphne stood a little straighter, then followed him downstairs. Now that she was here, there was no way she'd leave without a fight.
A/N: Ah, the Dursleys. Always fun when they're around!
Can I just say how blown away I was by the response from last chapter? What an amazing amount of feedback! I'm sorry that I wasn't able to respond to the reviews individually, but hopefully putting this chapter out makes up for that. I got my 2nd COVID vaccine shot soon after the last update, and I felt like garbage for a few days.
Fifth year is officially over! Woo!
As I near 1k follows on this fic, I'd like to encourage those of you that enjoy this fic to check out my other stories - namely, Wrath and Remorse. I know, it's a sequel to a 350,000 word fic (A Simple Act of Vengeance), but WaR is unlike anything you've ever read. Pretty much nonstop action with an ensemble of characters with their own motivations, growth, and arcs, in-depth worldbuilding, multiple antagonists, lots of international travel, and we've just reached the start of an all-out Wizarding World War. It's def the fic I'm most proud of, and it's gotten so much less attention than AMR. If you liked the last chapter of A Malignant Ruse, I can almost guarantee you'll enjoy the emotion and gravitas of WaR.
That's my sales pitch. As always,
Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles