The Dark Mark remained in the night sky above Privet Drive, a grim testament to the trials the Greengrass family endured. Daphne struggled under Astoria's slight weight, staggering forward several steps as she tried to keep her little sister steady.

"Where are we?" Ava asked, her voice muted as she took in the muggle neighborhood. "This is your place of safety?"

"Hurry, this way," Daphne ordered, and together they stumbled their way to the front step of Number Four, Privet Drive, where she rapped her knuckles against the door several times.

"Go away!"

"Open the door!" Daphne shouted. "My sister and my father are hurt, let us in!"

"If that's true, go to the hospital! Or whatever your kind uses for medical treatment!" came the fat muggle's muffled shout.

This was followed soon after by his wife's shrill voice. "Vernon, the neighbors…!" Her shout dissolved into a muted argument thereafter.

Daphne had enough of negotiating. Turning to her parents, she said, "The muggles are to remain unharmed. The protections around this home are crafted to hold back those that seek to hurt them. Do you understand?" Once they nodded, she raised her wand. "Alohamora."

The door unlocked with a click, and she stowed her wand and turned the handle, helping Astoria cross the threshold.

"How dare you!" the fat muggle shouted, pausing his argument with his wife. "What gives you the right to break into honest people's homes like this?!"

Her parents looked appalled at the sight of such a foul being, recoiling in disgust at the sight of Harry's relatives. Daphne eased Astoria to a seated position on the stairs before turning to regard their erstwhile hosts. They were always hostile to wizards and witches under normal circumstances; the current setting didn't lend itself to a non-hysterical reaction.

She could use someone rational around, to talk them down. "Would you shut up?! Where is…" she paused, grasping for the name. "Where's Dudley?"

The thin, spindly woman raised her hand to her hand to her chest, as though clutching her heart. "What do you want with our Dudders?"

"He's more reasonable than the two of you," she said.

"He's at school, you vile little beast! Far away from your abnormalities!"

"How dare you speak to my daughter like that, you disgusting animal!" Ava hissed. "You aren't fit to breathe the same air as her!"

"Don't you talk that way to my husband!" the female muggle screamed, and it was all Daphne could do to keep from screaming herself. The situation was quickly unravelling.

"That's ENOUGH!" she shouted. "Everyone needs to calm down-"

"You've no right to give orders, not when you've gone and barged into proper people's homes-"

"Silencio," Daphne incanted. "Alright, that's enough of your idiocy. If you'd just listen-" Several cracks from outside cut her off.

Would this night ever end?

A half-dozen obliviators were in the midst of dispelling the Dark Mark when she emerged from the Dursley's home. A pair of crimson-robed aurors were crouched over Draco's remains, one poking around his empty robes and the other holding his white mask.

"Halt!" One of them cried out, spotting her approach. "Identify yourself!"

She held her hands up, palms facing out, her arms feeling like wet noodles. Merlin, she was so tired! "I'm Daphne Greengrass. My family and I were attacked by Death Eaters."

"Greengrass?" the auror asked, wand pointed in her direction. "What are you doing in a muggle neighborhood?"

"We-" she started to answer, interrupted once more by a multitude of cracks.

Honestly, what now?

"Settle down, Dawlish, they're friendlies."

"Mad-Eye? What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"Same as you, I imagine," the grizzled ex-auror muttered. "Trying to sort this out. You alright, girl?"

"My father's hurt, my sister, too," she said.

"Murphy, go summon some healers," Moody instructed, and the other auror snapped to attention and apparated a moment later. "Well, since it seems like all the scum's been dealt with, want to tell us what happened, and how you ended up here?"

"I'd like to hear that, as well," Dawlish said, finally stowing his wand.

"Death Eaters broke into our home. They were- they were going to kill my family," Daphne started, her speech slowing as she thought through exactly what had happened that night. "They said I wasn't to be touched, on the Dark Lord's order, but my family was under no such protection."

"And why, exactly, would You-Know-Who have made such a pronouncement?" Moody asked, voice laced with suspicion.

Time to go 'all in', as it were. Daphne consciously kept her expression impassive. "I can't say for sure, but I assume it's because when I touched Rabastan Lestrange, he burned away to nothing more than ash." Dawlish's jaw dropped, and even Moody's good eye widened at that. "We fled our home, and Draco Malfoy pursued us here, where he met the same fate."

"Rabastan Lestrange is dead?" Dawlish questioned, at the same time that Moody asked "They burned to ash?"

"Yes."

She heard the front door open behind her. "We'll need to bring you back to the Ministry," Dawlish said. "Maybe the Unspeakables can figure out what makes you different, what this ability is you seem to have developed."

Daphne took an apprehensive step back. She was so foolish! Why had she thought she could make such a claim and not expect to have to back it up? She'd thought only of trying to promulgate the myth of her protection, as far as possible, without any consideration that regular witches and wizards wouldn't immediately jump to the extremely obscure explanation Dumbledore and the Dark Lord grasped.

"She's not going anywhere, except perhaps St. Mungo's," Harry said, appearing at her side and taking hold of her upper arm to steer her away from the other two. "If you've got questions, send an owl and we'll find a time and place that isn't the middle of the night in muggle Surrey. Sound good?"

"You can't just take her away! We need answers for what's happened here!"

Harry paused, tossing an aggravated look over his shoulder. "I don't think that's going to work. My relatives are very sensitive about magical people intruding on their property." Without waiting for a reply, he continued guiding her to the house, apparently deciding Moody could handle the aurors.

Once inside, he marched her toward the stairs, offering no reaction to the heated argument, clearly audible, coming from the sitting room.

"-won't have these unnatural sorts dirtying our home!"

"Dirtying?" Her mother's voice was incredulous. "That's rich, coming from a filthy muggle like you! As though you've cleaned even an inch of this rancid hovel in the last decade!"

"How dare you! You've no right to march in here in the middle of the night, disturbing proper people, bleeding all over my furniture! That chair's imported, you know!"

"Ladies, please…" Professor Lupin tried to cut in, ignored and overridden.

"Imported? From where, the refuse bin?"

"As though your type has any sense of the way proper people live!"

Harry chuckled at the ongoing clash. "Remus is tending to your sister. Madam Pomfrey's on her way to treat your father's injuries." He flicked the levers inside the bathroom door and ushered her into the small room. Daphne winced at the bright, artificial light. "Sit down."

She did so, feeling an incredible exhaustion the moment she left her feet. "How'd you know to come here?"

There was some rustling as he dug around in the cabinet behind the mirror. "The Ministry sent word to Dumbledore about a Dark Mark over Surrey. Didn't take much sleuthing to figure out something probably happened on Privet Drive. Tilt your head forward."

Again, she did as he instructed, sharply inhaling as he poured alcohol over the back of her head. With all of the adrenaline and life-or-death situations, she'd completely forgotten the injury Draco left on her.

"Stay still, you've got some bits of something embedded in the wound… What is this, glass?"

"Porcelain. Malfoy broke a lamp over my head."

There was silence in the bathroom for several minutes, long enough that Daphne sagged against him while he treated the back of her head.

"I'm glad you're here," she eventually said.

"What were you thinking, publicly announcing you killed a member of Voldemort's Inner Circle like that? Do you have any idea what sort of target you painted on your back?"

"I just wanted to help you," she mumbled. "Would do anything to help you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dumbledore said-" A sudden pounding on the bathroom door cut her off.

"Boy! Get out here, right now!"

"Mrs. Dursley, please, calm down-"

First making sure Daphne was propped up on the toilet seat, Harry then opened the door. "Can I help you, Aunt Petunia?"

"I warned you last summer about the disrespect you show to my home! I won't have these freaks disturbing my family!"

"Sorry, she insisted on seeing you," Professor Lupin offered from behind Harry's enraged aunt.

"Their home was attacked. Daphne brought her family here because of the protections around this house. She was just trying to protect her family."

"Well they're safe now, aren't they? I want them out of here!" There was a commotion at the door, the spindly muggle trying to force her way into the room. "Get her up! Let's go!"

"Stop it! She's injured and doesn't need you screaming in her face."

"You- after everything we've done for you, this is how we're to be repaid? Trespassers on our property?"

"After everything you've 'done for me'?!" Harry's voice was strained, thick with barely restrained fury. "If I'm to repay your treatment, I'd burn this place to the ground and-"

"Ah, Harry, Petunia. Lady Greengrass informed me I could find you here." Even without being able to see past Harry, Daphne was easily able to recognise Albus Dumbledore's voice.

"Headmaster, you need to get her away from me. I can't- I can't even listen to this!"

"Of course. Petunia, dear, why don't you gather your husband and meet me in the kitchen? I believe we should have a chat."

"Don't think you can badger me in my own home-" the muggle's volume faded as she retreated down the stairs.

"Sorry about that," Professor Lupin said, poking his head into the room. "How is Miss Greengrass feeling?"

"I'm fine, how is my family?" she asked, at the same time Harry responded, "I've cleaned the wound as best I can, but her injury needs healing."

"Let me see if Poppy's finished with the others," Lupin said, and then he, too, departed.

Alone again, at last, Harry helped her to feet, steadying her as she stumbled. "C'mon, you should lie down."

"Sorry for causing so much trouble," she muttered as he helped her to his room.

"It's okay. I suppose it was pretty quick thinking, dealing with Malfoy that way." He gently laid her on her side on the threadbare mattress in his room. "I'm glad you and your family are okay."

"I was so scared. I thought… thought I was going to lose them." Her eyes welled up with tears, Astoria's cries of pain echoing in her mind.

"Just rest, you're safe now."

"Harry?" she drunkenly reached out, fumbling for his hand with hers. "Please don't go."

He gently grasped her hand with his own. "It's alright, I won't. Madam Pomfrey'll be here in just a minute, and she'll fix you right up."

But, exhausted from what would surely go down as one of the longest days of her life, Daphne would not remain conscious to see that happen. Her eyes closed, the iron grip she maintained on his hand relaxing as she gave in to her exhaustion.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

Daphne stretched, opening her eyes at her mother's greeting, the unfamiliar environs of the Dursley home quickly registering. Sunlight streamed in from the barred window, and Kokko, their family owl, regarded her from atop Harry's worn desk. "Good morning. How are father and Astoria?"

"Your father's all patched up. With Astoria still recovering from the malediction she'll need some time, but Madam Pomfrey made her more comfortable." Ava sat down on the edge of Harry's lumpy mattress, gently running her fingers over where Daphne's injury had been. "Madam Pomfrey seems to have done an able job in tending to your wounds. How do you feel?"

"I'm okay." The silence of the house finally registered with her, and Daphne sat up. "Where is everyone?"

"Your father's waiting downstairs, and Astoria's still in bed."

"What happened to the Dursleys?" Daphne asked, well aware of the likelihood that if they were still in the house, they'd undoubtedly have already awoken her.

"We worked out a compromise, of sorts," her mother said, lip curling in disgust. "Get dressed and come on down, we'll need to figure out what we're going to do next."

"I need to take a shower."

"Wait - that's right, you've been here before, haven't you?" Out of habit, Daphne didn't meet her mother's eye, eager to avoid an argument first thing after waking up, but it seemed she was mistaken as to Ava's reasons for asking. "Does that mean you know how to work the muggle contraptions?"

"Sure, of course," Daphne agreed, standing up and gathering a change of clothes. "What do you need help with?"

It was a surreal scene that followed, with Daphne putting her three days of experience living like a muggle to use in demonstrating how to work various kitchen appliances, bathroom fixtures, and lighting.

By the time she and her family returned to the kitchen, Astoria was awake, and Daphne thus repeated her abbreviated muggle studies tutorial. With a small and basic breakfast cooked from the Dursley's stock prepared and laid out, the Greengrasses then revisited the events of the night before.

"What happened after I fell asleep?" Daphne asked. "Where is everyone?"

"Dumbledore and Potter convinced the muggles to accept a holiday away - funded from our vault," Cecil said, clearly nonplussed at that fact. "It's an outrage. Not only do we have to suffer these disgusting accommodations, but we're to pay for it?!"

"Sorry, Dad. I know it's hard."

He reached out and patted her arm. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry; we're safe, and that's what matters."

"We can't stay here, though!" Ava said, sliding bowls of porridge around the table.

"Why not?" Astoria asked. "I never imagined muggles lived like this! It's fascinating!"

"You're just saying that because you picked Muggle Studies as an elective," Daphne joked.

"Your mother's right. We'll need to go home, eventually. Not to mention I must attend to our business."

"But our home's not safe!"

Their debate came to a halt at the sound of the front door opening. "Good morning!" Dumbledore chirped, helped into the room by Harry. "I hope everyone's feeling better after a restful night."

"Headmaster," her father greeted neutrally, followed by a more hesitant hello to Harry. "Potter. We were just discussing our future living arrangements."

"Precisely the reason we've come!" Dumbledore exclaimed, pausing momentarily for Harry to conjure a chair for him at the table, regarding the half-eaten porridge set out. "You appear to be making a smooth adjustment."

Astoria giggled, but her parents didn't seem amused. "While we're grateful Daphne was able to provide us with an escape last night, living like muggles isn't an acceptable solution. We'll find other accommodation."

"It's safe here," Daphne protested. "How are we to live with the possibility of the Dark Lord's followers breaking down our doors at any moment?"

"Not even the Dursleys are going to stay here," Harry said. "The protections around this house won't last forever."

"What do you mean?"

While Dumbledore explained the protections he'd tied between Harry, his muggle aunt, and Privet Drive, Daphne stood and restarted the kettle, preparing tea for their new guests. Leaning back against the counter, she suddenly felt bashful and self-conscious.

Not over her appearance, no; rather, it was the strange sort of nervousness that came with her parents and sister, seated at the same table as her… the same table as the man she loved. Daphne closed her eyes, imagining the way it should have been - Teensy providing a platter of delicious peach crepes, the sun filtering into their expansive dining room, the polished hardwood table so clean it practically shined. Harry and her family, laughing together, breaking bread and sharing experiences.

The wanting which came with her imaginings lit a deep, aching regret within her. She wished so badly things were different.

"You're saying the muggles will have to return soon, to 'charge' the wards with Mr. Potter here?" her father was asking.

The scene Daphne opened her eyes to was nothing like her fantasies. The small, dumpy kitchen had only a small window. No sunlight came in, the weather grey and rainy. Her family wore what they had the previous night, rips and tears hastily repaired and bloodstains scourgified. Her parents were stiff, nervous, afraid - whether of their current situation or their entire social standing resting in Harry's hands, Daphne couldn't say. Dumbledore, looking even worse than he had at Hogwarts the day before. And Harry, glancing in her direction, then to her sister every few seconds, his expression entirely neutral and impassive.

At least Astoria looked happy and cheerful, she thought.

"Normally, that would indeed be the case," Dumbledore replied to her father. "But the protections will collapse the day Harry reaches his majority."

"The end of July," Daphne helpfully supplied, for her parents' sake. Dumbledore beamed at her.

"So we have four months-" her mother started, but Harry shook his head.

"No. The Dursleys will be back before long. They're off looking at homes, they're going to move once Dudley returns from school."

"I suppose that makes sense," Ava muttered. "Sitting around waiting for the protections to fall would invite attack. Even muggles are more intelligent than that."

"How long, exactly, do we have then?" Cecil asked. "We haven't- there are still arrangements we'll need to make. Besides a safe place to live, we have to gather our possessions, transfer items to Gringotts, seal up the manor…"

"I thought you might say that, and I have an idea to help."

"Headmaster, we appreciate your help dealing with the muggles, but this is a family matter."

"What's your idea?" Daphne asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "I think a mutual friend would be eager to offer his services. Dobby!"

The elf appeared with a pop!, looking around the kitchen. "The Great Harry Potter and Miss Greeny!"

"Hi, Dobby," Daphne said, unable to hold back a smile. "It's great to see you."

"We're not going to 'borrow' one of your elves."

"Dobby's a free elf," she cut in before Dumbledore could answer. "He's not owned by anyone… and he's my friend."

"A house elf?" Cecil asked in disbelief, but didn't pursue the issue when Daphne glared in his direction.

"I'd hoped Dobby might agree to help you out around Privet Drive while we prepare a more permanent residence for you."

"You have somewhere in mind?" Ava asked.

"I do, indeed. The protections are not quite as aggressive as the ones around this house; it's more accurate to say that this house is hidden, rather than fortified."

Harry, who to this point spent his time staring between Daphne and Astoria, suddenly straightened, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "Wait, you don't mean to-"

"It's a house in London that's been used as a base of operations from which to organise opposition to Voldemort," Dumbledore said, pretending to be ignorant of both Harry's interruption and her family's shiver at hearing the Dark Lord's name. "It will take a few days to be prepared for your residency."

He'd barely finished his proposal before Harry started to argue with him, his quiet tone not belying his anger. "It's not yours to give away-"

"I'm hardly giving it to them."

"Grimmauld Place is mine! You've no right to offer it without consulting me-" Ava gasped, though Daphne couldn't figure out why.

"Would you have them sleep on the street? Or perhaps send them to Malfoy Manor to plead for mercy?" Harry glared mutinously but remained silent.

A few seconds passed, then Cecil cleared his throat. "If your- if this elf is willing, I'd like to take it back to our home to gather our belongings."

"No," she said firmly. "You're still recovering, I'll go."

"Daphne-" both her mother and father were gearing up to object, but she received some very welcome support from an unexpected source.

"I'll escort her," Harry said, rising from his seat.

"Of course," her mother immediately agreed. "If we might have a moment with our daughter, first? I'd like to run over some of the important family items she needs to make sure to grab."

"That sounds reasonable. I'm sure Dobby will not mind ferrying me back to Hogwarts. Lord Greengrass, I was wondering if you might spare some time later today to visit me there? There are some favours I believe you are uniquely suited to grant."

"Sure. I'll see you around tea time?"

"I will be waiting. Until then, farewell."

Harry looked at Daphne before he left. "I'll be in the sitting room when you're ready." She nodded and smiled as he departed.

Once they left the room, her mother hastily set up a privacy charm around them. "You didn't tell us Potter is in line for the Black title."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Grimmauld Place - the ancestral home of the Blacks? You heard him say it was his. I thought the Malfoy boy was the next in line, but obviously not!"

"Sirius Black was his godfather. I guess Harry inherited it from him." Ava moaned in horror, and Cecil placed a comforting hand over hers. "What? What's wrong?"

"You're too young to understand. The Black's fall from grace was sharp and severe; in the span of roughly a decade the line collapsed, carried on only by Cygnus' daughters. Thus, the expectation that the Malfoy's would eventually merge the family with their own. But the Blacks were the most prestigious family in all of Britain!"

"They certainly thought of themselves as such," her father groused. "Strutted around like they were royalty."

"They may as well have been," Ava shot back in a sharp tone. "Your family spent centuries on the Continent, you don't understand anymore than Daphne does. The Black name carries weight in our society. And now, it's under the control of a young man who wields considerable influence of his own. Someone, I might remind you, who has plenty of reasons to look ill upon our own family!"

"Why would Potter dislike us?" Astoria asked. "I thought you said he helped Daphne cure the malediction?"

No one responded to her question, and nearly a full minute of silence passed.

"We have to resolve this. Find out what Potter wants, what will make this right," her father instructed. "I'll see what 'favours' the Headmaster seeks, and try to get him to make an appeal to Potter, as well. There must be some form of compensation we can offer."

"Dad-"

"I'm serious, Daphne. While you've been at school, the Dark Lord's influence continued to grow. Not just the murders and assassinations; various officials and Wizengamot members have experienced sudden changes to their attitudes and positions. Those who oppose him count on Dumbledore to act as a counter - judging by what I've seen of the Headmaster last night and today, those hopes are misplaced. Do you really want to try and survive in the Dark Lord's Britain with the reputation of being blood traitors?"

Astoria gasped. "What? Why would anyone think that?"

Daphne wet her dry lips with her tongue. "I- I wasn't entirely honest with Harry while pursuing your cure. He found out… some things that didn't cast me in the best light." She turned to her father. "I'll speak with him."

"You alright?"

His question pulled her out of a haze of memories. Daphne blinked, finally looking away from the bloodstains and broken fixtures in her family's parlour, pushing aside the memory of Death Eaters invading her home. "Yea. Yea, I'm fine."

Harry cast numerous detection charms before lowering his wand, apparently satisfied there was no one waiting in ambush. "We're clear, but let's not linger."

"Sure." Daphne led him through the first floor, shrinking various items and placing them into sacks that Harry conjured for her. They worked quickly, in relative silence until they started for the second floor.

"Nice place," Harry remarked.

"Thank you."

"Seems crazy, all this space for just your family."

"Well… the Greengrasses are an old family name. My father had this home built to reflect our heritage."

"Right."

They entered Astoria's room, and Daphne quickly gathered clothes and other necessities her sister would need for their time away. She didn't know what to say to him, too cognisant of the pressure her parents put on her to make him happy. Harry seemed content to follow her and occasionally poke around, as though he were idly curious about where she grew up.

It was while packing up her parents' room that she next spoke. "So we're to move from one of your homes to another?"

He barked out a short laugh. "I don't know that I'd call either of them 'home'."

"Why not? I mean-" she stumbled over her words for a moment. "Obviously the muggles went out of their way to make you feel unwelcome, but you were close with Sirius, weren't you?"

"Yes. But I never- I didn't get much time with him. And he hated Grimmauld Place. His relatives were even worse than mine."

"Is that why you didn't let it be known you inherited the Black title?"

He paused, looking away from the exquisite painting of a Finnish landscape her father had commissioned to stare at her. "Who told you that?"

"Apparently, Grimmauld Place is rather well-known among those that grew up in pureblood circles."

"That's good to know, I guess. If I ever need to impress somebody like you in the future, at least I'll have an 'in'."

"You don't need properties or titles to be impressive," she fired back without thinking, but besides a slight flush that ran up his neck to his face, Harry didn't reply.

They moved on to her room.

She threw piles of clothing onto her bed, gathering a few accessories here and there, pairs of shoes and boots, haphazardly assembling what she'd need to settle in… Harry's house. His house. She paused her packing, turning to face him. Harry was looking over her dresser, toying with the edges of the jewelry box her father gave her.

"Do you not want us to move into your Grimmauld Place? Regardless of what Dumbledore says, you're right. It's not his place to hand it over to others. We'll find somewhere else if you say so."

He bit his lip, briefly picking up a moving photograph of her with Astoria before setting it back down. "You said once, after I told you the prophecy, that you still had family friends in… wherever your father was born."

"Helsinki. It's in Finland."

"Right. You said I should run away."

Daphne crossed the room to stand alongside him, but he stubbornly refused to meet her gaze, continuing to stare at her possessions. "I said we should run away. Together." He snorted, but the sound was more sarcastic than amused. "What?"

"If your parents have connections in Finland, why not tap them now? Your sister's well, you got what you wanted. And, based on what happened here, you've obviously drawn Voldemort's ire. What's there to gain by staying in Britain?"

"You want me to leave the country?" The rejection stung. "Well, too bad. This is our home. Just because the Greengrasses lived overseas for a few generations, that doesn't mean we're not British."

"The war's already started. You might feel like you owe me for what happened, for your sister's recovery-"

"I- my family does owe you, but that's not why we're staying. It's not why I'm staying."

At last, he met her gaze, his eyes flat and devoid of warmth. "Then why?"

"I'm seeing this through to the end. I won't leave you to fight him alone."

"How exactly do you think you can help me? I admit, luring Malfoy to Privet Drive was clever, but I doubt it'll work twice."

"The Headmaster said…" she trailed off, suddenly nervous at the direction this conversation was going.

"What did he say?" Harry prompted.

Why was it up to her to tell him about Dumbledore's plan, the ruse he'd formulated to trick and intimidate the Dark Lord? Given the way she'd last mentioned Harry's parents to convince him to let her carve him up with a knife, Daphne wasn't eager to raise the subject of Lily Potter's sacrificial magic to him now.

"I might not be as skilled as you are, but Professor Snape worked with me the last few months. I- I can hold my own in a fight."

"What did Dumbledore say to you?"

"You should really ask him-"

"I'm asking you."

She took a deep breath. There was no avoiding it. "When you stepped in front of the curse, you dispelled the malediction in my family's blood."

"I know that. You already told me."

"You don't understand," she insisted. "There was a physical manifestation of the curse on my bloodline lifting. A glow around me, that appeared after you leapt in front of You-Know-Who's attack. When you used your own body to protect me."

"I was there, I rememb- wait. So Voldemort thought- he thinks that you…?"

She nodded. "Yes. Or, at least that's what the Headmaster believes. He said that, um, You-Know-Who assumed you passed on to me the protection your mother bestowed upon you. The Death Eaters that came here, they'd apparently been ordered by You-Know-Who not to touch me, for fear of triggering that sacrificial magic."

"Merlin." Harry's reaction was a stunned surprise.

Daphne took a step closer, practically face-to-face with him. "Don't you see? I can't go, it's an advantage that can't be wasted! You and I, together, we'll find a way to defeat-"

"No. No! I can't believe- Dumbledore's gone too far!"

"Harry, I won't leave you. Not while there's even a chance I might be able to help-"

"I don't want you to have any part of this. And the very idea-" he ground out, his fury evident, "-that my mother's protection would be passed on to you, after you used their memory to manipulate me into doing what you want just- it's- it makes me sick!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did. I was desperate to save my sister, and I- I didn't know the sort of person you were. I didn't know it was possible, then, to feel what I feel for you now-"

"Shut up!"

"I won't, not until you fucking listen to me! I lied to you, yes, but not about everything! What we had, it was real! I really love you, and I know you love me-"

"You're fooling yourself if you think-"

She pressed a finger to his lips, standing on tip-toe to press her forehead against his. "You have every right to be angry. I was foolish, and I wish I'd had the chance to be honest with you. But what we have is strong enough to survive my mistakes. Astoria wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't. You might want to deny it, but her very existence proves how powerful our love is." Daphne used her free hand to fish out the pendant he gave her. "Remember what you wrote? 'A love powerful enough to save me from fate itself'. I'll do whatever it takes to get us both through this."

The tension radiating from him slowly dissipated, and Harry gently removed her finger from his lips, taking hold of the pendant she held. "You're right. I do love you. And I'm not surprised you think we can move past what happened. After all, you were always in control, always aware of the bigger picture. You ferreted out my secrets, saw through every disguise I threw up between us. Maybe I was too inexperienced, or naive to suspect you had secrets of your own. Maybe you were just too good at masking them from me.

"That's the thing - we were never on equal footing. You know which parts were real, which were lies, but I don't, and I probably never will. So you're right - your sister proves my feelings are real. And I'm glad she's recovered, I genuinely am." She held her breath as his hands slid along the sides of her neck, unlatching the pendant's chain. "I am in love with you, Daphne… but I wish I weren't."

He slipped the pendant into his pocket and left the room.

A/N: 5500 words before author's note. Not a lot to say here, just building up for 7th year. Question for you all - what is Astoria's role in this story now? I have the A-plot settled, and most of the character's roles & endings decided, but it hit me that - per my current plans - Astoria's role in the fic is basically over. Seems a little strange, now that I think about it, for Daphne to get into this whole mess to save her and then wander off to the next problem.

Ah well. I guess I'll think of something, lol.

I've started trying to pre-publish chapters on my discord - like a day or two in advance, so I can get some feedback from readers. It's tough not having a beta since Nauze moved on. I've had offers for proofreading, which I'm grateful for, but it's much different from having a beta that's familiar with my plots and where I'm planning to go with them. So if you want to be part of that process, the discord link's in my profile.

Since my last update, I've published:

- A whole lot of chapters of The Discordant Pattern (over 50k words now!). Love that story.

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles