They retired to one of Grimmauld Place's sitting rooms after dinner. Daphne settled into a cushioned armchair near the fireplace, Astoria nearby on a worn and dilapidated sofa. Dobby appeared with a pop, offering them tea and biscuits before vanishing just as quickly as he arrived, and, with that, there were no further distractions.

A lengthy quiet settled over the room, disturbed only by the crackling of the fire. Where to even begin?

"Daphne?" Astoria ultimately asked, the more the silence stretched.

"Sorry," she said, clearing her throat and letting her head fall back against the chair, staring aimlessly towards the ceiling. "The winter holidays, I mean the ones after Mum and Dad pulled you from Hogwarts, they were… difficult."

"I remember. I could hear you screaming at them from my room."

"The idea that there was nothing anyone could do… I couldn't accept it." Daphne paused, sinking into memories that felt like a century ago. "It was impossible to listen to their excuses, so I tried to get away from Mum and Dad. That was when I encountered a portrait in the attic."

"The one where Mum put all the family stuff too ugly to display, but too old to throw away?" Astoria giggled.

"That's the one. This portrait - Elysant was her name - was of one of our ancestors. There was a secret compartment, built into the frame and sealed magically, that told the truth of our family's curse." Daphne briefly explained the tale of the spurned betrothal, and the Potter's vindictive revenge.

"And it lasted for centuries? A single curse affected people who weren't even born?"

Daphne recalled her impromptu lessons with Professor Snape over the previous year. "Strong emotion impacts spellcasting," she quoted, "And Dark magic is unpredictable, imprecise.

"Regardless, my mission was clear: I was going to save you, no matter what. And I'd stumbled upon a method to do so. All it would take was- I just, I only needed to-" Daphne stuttered, like her tongue refused to speak the words. "All I needed was for someone from the Potter family to love a Greengrass."

"Oh." Astoria's face reddened. "You mean, you two- that's how you got together?"

"Just wait," Daphne said quietly. "The thing about it was, he and I weren't exactly friends. I don't think I ever so much as said a word to him. You missed a lot of that year, but Umbridge -" here, Daphne couldn't hide the disgust from her tone, "-was making things pretty miserable at Hogwarts."

"Not to mention, he's a Gryffindor," Astoria interjected.

"Right. So, I thought… well, I tried to get his attention, but at the time, he was hung up on Chang-"

"Who's that?"

Naturally, Astoria didn't have any reason to know who she was. "A Ravenclaw, a year older than me. She's their starting seeker."

"Oh. Ohhhh," Astoria said in recognition. "You mean Harry was with her?"

Daphne smiled briefly at her sister's disbelief before returning to the story. "Anyway, I couldn't seem to get him to notice me. At least, not in a positive way. So I- I decided to get closer to his friends. I figured he couldn't ignore me that way."

"Like Ron, and that girl from Ravenclaw you told me about?"

Her gaze drifted back to the fire, as though Luna's face would somehow appear. Yes, it was Luna that had been her closest ally, providing her information (like The Quibbler issue with Harry's interview) and support practically from the start. Their first 'date' even, in the kitchens, had been at Luna's behest. She felt an acute ache, missing her quirky little friend.

'You mean… you were only nice to me because you wanted to get to Harry?'

Her chest hitched, the memory of Luna's tears choking Daphne.

'I thought- I thought you actually liked me.'

"Are you okay?"

Hastily swiping her sleeve over her eyes, Daphne cleared her throat several times. "Yea. Yea, I'm fine. Where was I?"

Astoria stared at her for several seconds before quietly replying, "You were getting to know his friends."

"Right." Daphne nodded. "There was some friction, but by the time we took our OWLs, Harry and I were… friends, of a sort."

"That's when you and Pansy stopped being friends?" When Daphne looked over annd raised her eyebrows at the question, Astoria elaborated. "You told me, that time you visited over Easter break, that you weren't getting along."

"No. Well, sort of." She weighed whether to skip over that night, the events in the Headmistress's office and the Forbidden Forest, before she recalled her promise to herself, and to Astoria - no more secrets.

So, with a deep breath, she told of being summoned to Umbridge's office, of Draco practically salivating at the thought of Harry enduring an Unforgivable Curse, of their terrifying flight into the Forest, and the rest of them leaving her behind to journey to the Ministry of Magic.

"Wow," Astoria breathed.

"There's more," Daphne said. "After they'd left, I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't know if Harry would come back at all. So, I- I wandered for a bit, and ended up back in the Forest…"

"Are you crazy?! Knowing there were giants and centaurs out there?"

"While I was out there, I found the Headmist- I found Umbridge," Daphne said, continuing as though her sister hadn't spoken. "She was furious. She said… she said she was going to kill Harry for what he'd done."

Her fingers flexed, muscles going taut as though she were back in the Forest, her robes wrapped around her hands, pulling harder and harder, with all of her strength-

"Daphne?"

She blinked, meeting Astoria's worried gaze. "I couldn't let that happen. Harry was… he was your only hope. Umbridge was injured, weak; if I let her leave the Forest, though, she'd recover and come after him." A pregnant pause fell over the two of them, heavy with the weight of what they both knew was to come. "So I made sure she'd never leave the Forest."

There was an audible gulp from the direction of the sofa following that ominous statement, and Daphne paused for a moment. She'd never told anyone that before. No one.

Astoria didn't speak, so Daphne continued on, every word she spoke easier than the last. It was almost like… almost as though finally being able to confess, to confide, to release everything she'd done, everything she'd endured was somehow liberating. Daphne talked, and talked, the entire sordid tale pouring out of her, without interruption or recrimination.

Lost in her story, she'd just finished retelling how Professor Slughorn helped convince Harry of the hand-fasting when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Daphne glanced at her sister, seeing Astoria shoot up from the sofa and pace in front of the fire. "Wait, I don't understand. You- everyone said Harry helped you find a cure."

"Well, yes. He did."

"It doesn't seem like it! It doesn't seem like- like he had anything to do with it!" Astoria's hands fluttered, trying to express her frustration. "He barely even knew I existed!"

"Of course he didn't. That was the whole point."

"But-"

"Sit down, baby, I'm almost done."

Rather than return to her seat at the sofa, though, Astoria squeezed into the armchair next to Daphne. "I don't know if I want to hear the rest."

"Why not?"

Astoria crossed her arms, but the gesture wasn't one of obstinance or frustration. Rather, it was like her sister was comforting herself, wrapping her own arms around her body. "I thought… I saw how you looked at him. I saw how he looked at you." She hesitated, then continued, "It doesn't seem like it was all a lie."

"It wasn't."

"But… he- you-" she seemed to fumble for the words, and Daphne took the opportunity to try and clarify.

"I know how it seems," she said slowly, trying to put herself in her sister's shoes, "Especially considering how it started. But we ended up falling in love. That part wasn't a lie."

A long moment of silence passed. "It wasn't," she insisted, and Daphne could hear her voice rise an octave as the words started spilling out in a tide of justification. "He couldn't know everything, not right away. I couldn't take that chance! Everything had to go just right… it was your life on the line, for Merlin's sake! And the lies just kept building up and up, and if even one of them fell apart, the whole bloody thing would have come tumbling down!" Daphne shook her head, long strands of hair falling over her eyes as her voice finally quieted. "I… I didn't want it to happen like this… I didn't want to lose him or you…"

She trailed off when Astoria shifted in the seat next to her. Daphne sat, motionless, as she wrapped her arms tightly around her.

"I know, sis. I know." Astoria held her for several seconds. "I wish I could make it better. I wish I could pay you back for doing the impossible, for giving me a second chance. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for everything you had to go through."

"It was worth it," Daphne murmured. "There's still time to fix everything. I know there's a way to make this right."

Astoria didn't respond, but she wasn't able to hide her doubtful expression when she pulled back from their embrace.

It was mid-afternoon, the early summer heat transforming her school robes into a veritable oven. Standing at the castle gates like an enormous sentinel, Professor Hagrid raised an arm in greeting, his face awash in pain and grief.

"Miss Greengrass! This way, if yeh' would."

They walked in silence for most of the way, Hagrid occasionally sniffing loudly. When the entrance was in sight, though, he spoke up. "'s hard t'not feel like ever'thing's lost," he began, running a massive hand over his face. "Dark days ahead, no doubt about that."

Daphne didn't respond, unsure what to say. Instead, the two of them trudged along the path, Hagrid directing her to the Hospital Wing. She breathed a sigh of relief upon entering the castle; the warm, summer sun cast an altogether too cheerful glow over a day such as this. Hogwarts, with its flickering torchlight and shadowed corridors, felt more appropriate.

As she neared the infirmary, though, raised voices caught her attention. Familiar voices. Turning the corner, Daphne halted her steps, seeing Harry, Ron, and Granger shouting in the middle of the corridor.

"-could you even ask that of us?!" Granger screamed, her face blotchy and tear-stained. "We'll find a different way!"

"There isn't another way," Harry said, his stoicism a stark contrast to Ron's tightly-wound anxiety and Granger's emotion.

"I won't have any part in this!" Granger ground out in a voice that was half seething, half sobbing, stabbing her finger into Harry's chest. "And I'm not going to let you do it, either!"

Ron gently tugged at her arm, pulling her away from Harry. "She's right, mate; this isn't the answer."

It was then Harry caught sight of Daphne, his eyes briefly locking onto hers before he regarded his friends. "When it's all over, you may not have a choice."

"You…!" Granger cut herself off and took a deep, trembling breath, then wiped her eyes and tucked her curly hair behind her ears. When she spoke again, she was more collected. "It's been a hard day for you more than anyone. I can imagine how much pressure you must be feeling. But this isn't the end. We'll figure this out, Harry. I promise."

"C'mon, let's go back the Burrow," Ron said, and Harry nodded, his eyes flicking once more to Daphne before he turned and walked away with the others.

Daphne wanted to chase after them, but knew at least half of that instinct was a desire to avoid the purpose of her visit to Hogwarts. Doing her best to push her curiosity out of her mind, she continued forward, opening the doors to the Hospital Wing.

"Right this way, dear," Madam Pomfrey said, taking hold of Daphne's elbow and guiding her to a curtained area in the corner of the infirmary. "Headmaster? Miss Greengrass is here."

Albus Dumbledore was scarcely recognizable. His beard was thinning and patchy in places, and across his skin there were splotches of blackened, almost scaly flesh. An odor of rot hung in the air of the infirmary, and Daphne had to resist the urge to cover her mouth and nose.

Though his every breath was a wet rasp, Dumbledore still managed a facsimile of a grin as she approached, his dry and cracked lips twitching upwards in greeting.

"Headmaster," she greeted, taking a step closer as Pomfrey closed the curtain behind her. "You… you wanted to see me?"

"Miss-" he coughed, and she waited several seconds for his breathing to even out. "Daphne. Thank you for coming. I'm afraid there isn't much time, and still much to discuss."

"You should save your strength, sir," Daphne said, but even as she spoke she knew it was unnecessary. It was transparently obvious the Headmaster was at death's door.

He ignored her platitude. "I ask again for your word, your commitment to stand by Harry's side in the forthcoming struggle. He will need every advantage possible, and the one you carry is more formidable than most."

"I'll be with him until the end," she said. 'As long as he lets me,' she added silently.

"Harry has-" another coughing fit interrupted him. "He has a mission to undertake, of the most vital importance. I have complete faith that you will carry out an important role in aiding him."

"What mission?" she asked. "What does he have to do?"

Dumbledore's eyes were glassy, less focused than when she entered the Hospital Wing. "Winky," he breathed, and a house elf popped into the room next to his bed. "The bequeathal for Miss Greengrass, please."

"Yessir!" the elf squeaked, and vanished momentarily, reappearing with a heavy book. She held it out for Daphne to take. She accepted it, glancing down at the wrinkled leather binding and faded cover.

'The Great Chase: How Not to Play Games with Your Game'. She stared in befuddlement for a moment, then realisation dawned; this was the library book she'd used a year ago to track Harry to the Dursley's. "Sir?"

"It's a gift; Madam Pince informed me you were the first student to so much as open that book in the last two centuries. Under the circumstances, there were no objections to me purchasing it from the school."

Daphne held the book, feeling awkward and unsure of what to say. "Thanks… but-"

Dumbledore closed his eyes, wearing an exhausted smile. "It's meant to be symbolic. You taught me a lesson, that day we spoke in my office. I thought I'd planned for every eventuality, thought my magic and protections were foolproof. But you bypassed all of the defenses at Privet Drive without even realizing they were there." Speaking at length seemed to wear on the dying old man, and he paused for several seconds to regain his breath. "You taught me solutions can be found in unexpected places. Remember that - you never know when something you thought to be useless might save your life… or the lives of those you care for."

At that moment, Professor McGonagall and an elderly man - one who, when Daphne gave him a closer look, bore a strong resemblance to the Headmaster - appeared at the edge of the curtained area.

"Please, come in Minerva." Dumbledore's arm twitched, as though he were attempting to wave them forward, but his withered and blackened limb barely responded. "We were just finishing up."

"Miss Greengrass," McGonagall nodded, and Daphne returned her greeting before turning back to the Headmaster.

"Thank you, sir, for the gift and for the, uh, lesson."

"Take care of him, Daphne."

She gave her word with a nod. Hugging the battered old book to her chest, Daphne turned and left the Hospital Wing. There was a strange numbness, an odd lack of feeling to walk away from arguably the most renowned wizard in all of Britain, knowing his life was at an end. For her entire life (bar the previous year), Dumbledore was nothing more than a face and a name; a celebrity, a legend, a hero.

As she walked out of the castle and made her way towards the gates to apparate back to Grimmauld Place, she idly considered how long it had likely been since anyone had seen past the fame and reputation to actually know Albus Dumbledore. It must have been so lonely. Daphne wondered if it would be the same for-

"Harry?" she asked in surprise, coming to a halt in front of where he stood, leaning against the massive gates. "I… I thought you'd already left."

He gave her a tight smile, and Daphne's stomach did a somersault. "I was going to, but then I remembered a dinner engagement I'd been putting off." He reached into his back pocket, pulling out an envelope addressed in very familiar handwriting. "Feel like getting some Vietnamese?"

"That... that sounds lovely," she said with a grin, and while there was no inauthenticity in her smile, Daphne did pause when he turned to lead her out of the gates, regarding Harry for a confused and perplexed moment.

Her heart screamed at her to embrace the joy at finally, finally getting some interest from the boy that so much regret, heartache, and desperation was tied up with. How many times had she pictured pretty much this exact moment, after all?

But, for all the butterflies that came with being on the receiving end of that crooked smile of his once more, Daphne couldn't shake the nagging familiarity of their casual interaction. This was... it felt like last summer at the Weasley's, when Harry was holding back the prophecy from her.

"You coming?"

Daphne blinked, and her smile grew fractionally wider as she took in the image of him, his lanky form haloed by the bright sunlight. She quickly caught up to him, and they walked out of Hogwarts together side-by-side, the brightness of the sunny summer day no longer seeming so out of place.

But still... despite it all... Still, Daphne felt...

She wished she knew what Harry did that made Ron and Granger so upset.

A/N: I said I would finish my fics, and I will.

~Frickles