Apologies. No excuses except that life got in the way.
Chapter 22
CwD
October 3rd, 1996
Daphne opened the door leading into the Room of Requirement and let out a sigh. "Come along, Potter."
As beckoned, Harry followed a moment later, carrying both their school bags in one hand. He barely made it two steps into the room before Dobby appeared with a cheerful pop and relieved him of the load, bowing so deeply he nearly folded in half before disappearing again without waiting for thanks.
The room had settled into something recognisable. Like most other nights, it wore the shape of Harry's drawing room at Potter Manor though not exactly a one-to-one copy.
A different rug here, a few more plants there. Even the arrangement of the furniture was different. It was, at the end, his drawing room but with a sprinkle of Daphne's recommendations and oddly enough, Harry hadn't objected.
Despite her fatigue, Harry watched Daphne sink gracefully onto the loveseat as though the entire motion had been rehearsed a thousand times. Then she patted the space beside her without looking at him. Indulging her, Harry sat down and not a second later, found Daphne's feet strewn across his lap.
He raised an eyebrow. "Again, really?"
Daphne threw that annoyingly persuasive, pleading look on her face that Harry claimed he didn't like but was withholden to, nonetheless.
Relenting with a huff, he began gently working the soles of her feet. He could tell she was feeling the effects of his stellar massage techniques, as Daphne had once so claimed the first time, with the way she was practically purring.
"Mmmm…" Daphne moaned with relief. "That's the spot… you really are such a darling~ "
Harry rolled his eyes; feeling the heat rising up his neck. "Can you not?"
"Can I not, what?" She purred innocently, not before letting out another sigh of relief.
"Merlin, you're annoying…"
Daphne pulled a cushion to her face and peaked over its edge. Morgana, help her, she was becoming spoiled and she loved every single bloody second of it.
"I'm not going to steal your toes or anything, so you don't have to keep staring at me, Princess."
"S-Shut up, Potter."
Harry didn't look up but the grin was evident on his face and Daphne couldn't help but smile too. Thankfully, such an expression was protected from the boy's gaze.
Thank you, cushion!
" – And when are you going to return the favour? My back is awfully stiff, you know."
Daphne lifted her chin up. "Maybe if you're a good boy."
"When aren't I?"
"You missed our meeting the other day remember?"
Daphne began to squirm when Harry began pulling each one of her toes one by one.
"I was indisposed, if you don't remember. Fighting Death Eaters and all."
"That's no excuse, Potter – " Daphne suddenly let out a giggle when Harry's fingers brushed in-between her toes. Feeling her face burn up, she pulled up the cushion to cover her mortification. "You did that on purpose!"
Harry laughed. "It's not my fault you began to squirm – there… all done. Did I miss a spot?"
Daphne peaked ever so slightly beyond the edge of the cushion and lightly flexed her feet, wiggling her toes back and forth. After a moment of Harry looking at her exasperatedly, she finally set the cushion aside.
"Thank you, darling."
Harry patted her foot absentmindedly before letting his hand come to rest against her ankle. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he shook his head.
"How are you feeling?" She asked.
He gave the question some thought before answering.
"Better, I think. Not using magic for the entire day definitely felt strange again." He let out a quiet breath. "Other than that... just tired."
Daphne scrutinised him with a piercing gaze. "You reached for your wand four times today."
Harry blinked. "I did?"
"Mmhmm. Once when you attempted to summon your bag after Defence and three times in Potions class."
"I… I didn't even notice."
"Oh, I know."
There wasn't an ounce of smugness in her voice. It was moments like these that reminded Harry just how observant Daphne truly was.
Daphne continued. "So…?"
Harry cleared his throat. "So…?"
"How is your magic?" She asked rolling her eyes.
He hesitated before lifting his hand and focused on it intently. A small flame appeared after a second or so, dancing on his palm. It looked strong at first but almost instantly, it began flickering in and out as he tried to push more magic into it. Eventually, the flame did die out in a burst of sparks, the backlash causing the boy to wince in pain.
"Ow…"
Harry was so focused on the magic at hand he didn't notice that Daphne had sat up and was sitting right next to him looking rather cross.
"It was a question, you idiot," she scolded, taking his hand before he could protest. She turned it over carefully, brushing away the thin layer of soot that had settled across his fingers. "I didn't ask you for a demonstration."
" – Clearly your magic hasn't stabilised yet," she continued, her annoyance giving way to concern. "Frankly, I'd have been astonished if it had. But what I cannot understand is how in Morgana's name, you managed to exhaust yourself to this extent."
Harry leaned back into the cushions with a sigh, allowing her to fuss over him.
"At first, I was alright. Handling the werewolves, the Death Eaters… even the Lestrange brothers. I could take them comfortably albeit, Greyback did give me some trouble. It was Dolohov that was the problem. Him and his bloody Fiendfyre…"
Daphne felt her hair stand on edge. "I know we spoke about it the other night, but I never asked how you felt afterwards. Killing someone… anyone… I imagine it wasn't easy."
"Hmm," he hummed before shrugging. "They weren't the first, so I guess it doesn't really affect me as it once did."
Her heart tightened. "The Dark Lord from when you were a babe?"
Harry shook his head as his eyes darkened. "Remember Quirrell?"
"That imbecile that we had in our first year for DADA?"
"The very same."
She looked at him in disbelief.
"You killed him?"
"Yes and no." Harry frowned. "Well, according to Dumbledore, Quirrell was already dead before I got my hands on the git but regardless, the feeling was all the same…"
Daphne shook her head. "I don't understand, Harry."
Harry gave her a wry smile. "Voldemort had possessed Quirrell in our first year."
"What?" She searched his face for some indication that he was joking and when she realised he wasn't, her stomach dropped. "Oh."
"Yeah…"
"How… why…?"
And so, Harry told her.
He spoke about the break in at Gringotts at the beginning of their first year, about incapacitating the Troll who had wandered into the school. Told her about his cursed broom, about Norbert the Dragon and his detention in the Forbidden Forest where he first encountered Voldemort unknowingly. Finally, he spoke about Ron, Hermione and him going to the Third Floor to stop Snape from stealing the Stone before ultimately finding out it was Quirrell who was the real villain all along.
Harry didn't know how much time had passed since he had begun his tale. For something that should've taken a couple minutes to explain, it must have been almost an hour later when he had finished his story with him waking up in the Hospital Wing seeing Dumbledore eating his sweets.
Meanwhile, Daphne had scooted closer to him and had her frame wrapped around his arm, her head resting on his shoulder. Dobby had even popped in and threw a blanket nearly twice his size over them to stave away the chill.
"All of that happened in our First Year?"
Harry snorted. "Yep."
"Nobody knew a thing…"
"Bizarre, right?"
"No wonder you four got all those points at the end to win the House Cup. You have no idea how furious my house was that even Longbottom received points," she giggled lightly.
Daphne remembered the day as if it was yesterday, returning to their Common Room after the feast, Draco and her fellow housemates kicking up a storm, all being on the verge of tears screaming about the injustice of it all. It really was such a disaster.
"You know," Harry began quietly after a moment, "you haven't asked me a single question about Voldemort."
"I-I know."
"Aren't you curious?"
She sighed. "Of course I am."
"Then why?"
"Because… I don't think that's the important part."
Harry blinked at her confusedly.
"The important part," Daphne continued softly, tightening her hold onto him, "is that an eleven-year-old boy went through all of that... and somehow everyone expected him to return to daily life as though everything was just alright."
Harry stared at her. No one had ever put it quite like that before. He found, rather unexpectedly, that he preferred it.
"What?" Daphne questioned when she noticed him staring intently at her. "Do I have something on my face?"
He merely shook his head, a fond smile playing on lips. He pulled her nose with his fingers, letting out an oof when Daphne jabbed him in the stomach in retaliation.
"Idiot…" she huffed. "I told you not to do that!"
Harry chuckled unapologetically.
"Speaking off Longbottom…" Daphne began curiously as she sat up slightly to look at Harry, "when did he learn how to duel like the way he did today?"
The young Lord eyes lit up with mirth. "With a lot of hard work and determination. Neville really is one of a kind. The real question you should be asking is how Draco got so good."
Daphne deflated, returning her head back to his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harry. Over the weeks, I've tried to keep an eye on Draco but I – the times I do see him, he just keeps to himself or just hangs out with Astoria out of sight from everyone."
Harry patted her knee consolingly. "The slippery git is up to something. That much I know especially after today."
With Daphne's questioning look, he continued.
"Snape had cornered him before DADA. Long story short, he basically wanted to find out what Voldemort had ordered Draco to do but Draco refused to tell him… Just for clarity, Daphne, remind me again exactly what an Unbreakable Vow is?"
The blonde frowned deeply.
"It magically binds the one making the promise – usually there's another party involved to officiate the vow. If they knowingly fail to fulfil the terms of the vow..." She paused. "They die."
Harry's head dropped back. "It's as I thought then though for the life of me, I can't understand why Snape of all people, would bind himself to Draco…"
"I wish I could tell you more," Daphne admitted quietly.
"I know – "
" – There isn't even a new group forming around him." She continued on frustratingly. "If there is a shift in Slytherin's hierarchy, it's happening somewhere I can't see it."
Harry remained silent, allowing her to continue.
" – I've been paying attention, Harry. I really have."
"I know you have."
Daphne lowered her gaze to the blanket covering their laps.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?" Harry blinked.
"For not being more useful."
He shook his head. "Don't beat yourself over it. Draco's trying his best not to pull attention to himself and so far, its unfortunately working. Besides, it's being handled so don't you worry."
"Handled? Handled by whom?"
He sighed. "Someone you don't have to worry about just now."
"Still I – "
" – If anything, I should be apologising. Although we've messed around with some spells here and there, I haven't really taught you anything regarding combat magic, have I?"
Daphne chuckled humourlessly. "That bad at it, was I?"
"Not as bad as I thought you were going to be." Harry pulled back to look at Daphne's pinched face. "Colour me surprised, Greengrass, you did rather well."
She blinked.
"Honestly..." He continued pensively, replaying the duel in his mind. "You adapted far quicker than I expected. Most people panic the first time they're put under pressure. They fall back on whatever they're most comfortable with and you did at one point. That Glacius spell of yours is quite brutal."
"I thought I was all over the place…"
Harry shook his head. "Every time Hermione forced you onto the defensive, you changed something." He counted them off on his fingers. "Your distance, your tempo… even your footwork was all partially there. We just need a bit of a bigger spell repertoire and to work on your endurance and stance, and I reckon you'll be pretty formidable in your own right."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm proud of you, Daphne."
She looked away before he could see the ridiculous grin threatening to spread across her face.
Morgana.
One compliment. That was all it took. Unfortunately, the memory of how the duel had ended quickly smothered the feeling.
"Hermione was particularly fond of her victory against you," said Harry before he frowned slightly. "Well, she was at the beginning but then afterwards, when she did finally turn up to the common room, she never brought it up again which was unlike her. She'd never fail to use one of her success stories as a teachable moment. Its bloody annoying. I wonder if something happened…"
Daphne's face remained expressionless but inside, her heart was pounding as she digested Harry's words.
"Nevertheless," she began, lightly clearing her throat, "I still lost to Granger."
"Sure, you did, but Hermione has been learning how to fight since last year."
Daphne huffed. "And I haven't?"
"Not the way we had. Dumbledore's Army. Remember that? Not only that, but Hermione has also had real life experience fighting for her life." Harry sighed before his face turned teasing. "Tell me one thing… where did you learn that fancy spell that you tried using at the end of your duel?"
Daphne's cheeks pinkened as she burrowed her face deeper into Harry's shoulder.
"Nowhere."
Harry hummed.
"Umbra Imperium, huh? Sounds very familiar… you haven't been spying on me whilst I've been training, have you, Princess?"
Daphne pinched him on his thigh eliciting an ow from Harry. "You train in front of me every day, you idiot."
Harry shook his head with a mock sigh as he counted his fingers. "First, you steal my belongings, then my food and now my spells? What's next I wonder? My clothes? My sanity? My innocence?" He exclaimed to an increasingly blushing Daphne who repeatedly whacked him on his thigh.
The young Lord laughed. "Come on."
Harry stood up, leaving a protesting Daphne who attempted to pull him back into the sofa.
"Come back! You're taking all the warmth."
"You'll be fine. Come on, Daphne." He held out his hands in front of her expectantly and after a long moment of pondering, she slid her hands into his.
Unfortunately for her dignity, Harry put rather more enthusiasm into the motion than she had anticipated.
An undignified squeak escaped her lips as she stumbled forwards, the blanket slipping from her shoulders and pooling forgotten on the floor. Before she could even think about losing her balance, Harry caught her, one hand settling lightly against the small of her back whilst the other remained wrapped around hers.
For a small moment neither of them moved.
"Always lurking in my personal space, aren't you, Greengrass…?" Harry whispered causing an involuntary shiver to race down her spine.
But Daphne would not be beat this time. With a soft hum, her lips slowly dragged itself into a sultry grin. The small chasm of space between them disappeared as the blonde pressed herself firmly into Harry's front enjoying the way she could practically see his mind short-circuit.
"I could say the same thing to you, Potter. If one were to look in, they might think you quite enjoy my company…" she replied anything but innocently. "You could always admit it, you know. I, for one, know that I'm an absolute delight…"
Her response had the effect she was looking for. Despite him trying his best to keep a handle on his Occlumency shields, it didn't save the flush travelling up his neck.
"Come along, you cheater," Harry muttered.
He took a grinning Daphne by the hand and walked over to the centre of the room. Almost immediately, the room began to change as Harry took control much to Daphne's bother. Gone was the comfortable copy of his drawing room and instead, the room was replaced by smooth stone flooring and a high-vaulted ceiling. Practice dummies stood in neat rows before them, each bearing a faded target painted across its chest and in each of their hands held a wand-like stick.
Harry nodded approvingly. "Much better."
"I think not," she said, snatching her hand from Harry's before crossing her arms with a pout. "I rather preferred the sofa."
He rolled his eyes. "Trust me, I've noticed."
"You've become awfully fond of ruining perfectly pleasant evenings, Potter."
"Who said the pleasant evening was ruined?" Harry spread his arms dramatically. "Time for a spot of training!"
Daphne raised an eyebrow despite the corner of her mouth twitching with amusement. "So, Professor, how exactly do you intend to teach me when you're under strict orders not to use magic?"
"I don't need magic to teach. You'd be surprised how many people think spellcasting begins with spells."
Daphne frowned cutely. "Then where?"
"You'll see. Shoot a spell at the dummy."
"What kind of spell?"
"Any spell. Imagine that dummy is an enemy that appeared from nowhere and is hellbent to harm you. What would be the first spell you'd use?"
Daphne blinked, then quickly raised her wand and aimed at the dummy.
"Glacius!"
A surge of ice magic burst from her wand, freezing the ground as it raced forward. The spell didn't strike the dummy directly, but the ambient frost radiating from the blast engulfed it, freezing it solid. The dummy toppled backward and shattered into glittering shards.
Daphne turned to Harry with a smug little smile. He whistled appreciatively. "Not bad. I always knew you had a thing for ice-type magic."
She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Thank you, darling."
" – But it could be better."
Her smugness froze over. "What was bad about it?"
"Nothing really," Harry smiled patiently. "Inherently, there was nothing wrong. It could just be better – much quicker and more importantly, much stronger."
"How?"
Harry stepped around her, close enough that Daphne felt his breath brush her hair. "It's all in your body language."
Daphne instinctively straightened.
"That's exactly what I was hoping you wouldn't do," Harry sighed, poking her lightly in the side.
She yelped, stepping on his foot with a glare. "No sudden poking! You know I'm ticklish, you brute!"
Harry grinned unapologetically. "You stiffened reflexively as if you saw McGonagall coming to pester you about your skirt again."
"I was standing perfectly normally, thank you very much."
He took her shoulders and gently turned her to face a fresh practice dummy. "When people are comfortable, they stand however their body feels like standing. But in a duel, every part of you must be ready. Your feet for movement, your shoulders for control, your wand arm for precision, and your mind for intent. Magic flows through posture as much as through the wand. Now what's tricky is that you have to do all of that within a moment because duels are not only determined by the lethality of your spells but also the speed of the conjurer."
Daphne frowned thoughtfully and adjusted her footing. "Like this?"
"Relax your shoulders a little – a little more – yep, right there. Now tilt your body a little so you appear to be a smaller target. No – not too much. Just ever so slightly."
"Like this?"
"Not quite."
Harry reached out and gently steadied Daphne's waist. "Don't let that mind wander, Greengrass."
"Shut up, Harry."
Harry laughed softly. With careful movements, he adjusted her stance, brushing her hair aside so it fell over one shoulder and cleared his view of her wand arm. Then he stepped closer, close enough that his chest rested lightly against her back and reached for her elbow.
"Lift this just a bit. Your aim's drifting because your body hasn't settled into the new posture yet."
"My arm feels heavy."
"Perfectly normal. Just give yourself a moment or so and – "
" – M-Morgana."
"Better?" Harry whispered.
Daphne's face scrunched up. "I-I'm not sure…"
"Trust me, just hold that stance. Remember that feeling you just experienced."
"Now what?"
"Now, Princess," Harry said with a teasing lilt, "try casting Glacius again."
She took a deep breath to calm her errant heartrate, her electric blue eyes narrowing at the new dummy.
"Glacius!"
This time, a concentrated beam of frost-blue magic struck the dummy dead-centre without much of a preamble. Ice blossomed outward in jagged patterns, encasing the construct in a crystalline shell and a heartbeat later, the entire dummy shattered explosively, scattering shards much more violently than the first time.
"Now that was a Glacius!"
Daphne was practically vibrating with excitement. Before Harry could react, she launched herself at him. His arms wrapped around her instinctively, lifting her slightly off the ground as she burrowed into his embrace.
"I did it!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Did you see the way my spell hit the dummy?! That was all me!"
Harry laughed, swaying with her momentum. "That was all you!"
They stayed like that for a long moment, her arms looped around his neck, his around her waist. Eventually Daphne pulled back, cheeks rosy, a hesitant smile tugging at her lips.
"S-Sorry."
"For what?"
"I've been hugging you quite often lately, haven't I?"
Harry hummed, raising an eyebrow. "Not just hugs."
"I-I can stop, if you'd like."
The vulnerability in her eyes caught him off guard. For a moment, he forgot how to speak. "I-I don't mind it. Truly."
Daphne's eyes brightened, the sparkle returning. Harry found it suddenly very difficult to look away.
"Okay," she said softly.
"Okay," he echoed.
Daphne cleared her throat when she realised she was staring into Harry's eyes for too long. "S-So, it really was just my stance?"
Harry nodded slowly, a proud smile appearing on his face.
"Half, I reckon. Your prowess with your wand is actually pretty great. Definitely one of the best in our year but it's just when it comes to combat where there are gaps in your knowledge. Even something as simple as adjusting your posture can have immense effects on your spellcasting, as you just saw."
Daphne smiled prettily. "Teach me more."
Harry's grin turned mischievous. "Call me Professor Potter again and I might think about it."
She kicked him.
CwD
October 28th, 1996
Days progressed rather easily from then on. Thankfully, a day or two later, Harry's magic did eventually stabilise, much to the boy's relief. It truly was an awful feeling, not being able to use magic like he used to, but he was glad that ordeal was behind him.
As October rolled through, Harry kept himself busy. His days were spent attending classes, his regular weekly meetings with Dumbledore and his evenings in Daphne's company and before he knew it, Halloween was just around the corner.
One major advancement, however, was what had arrived just over a week ago…
Harry scrunched his nose as he entered the Potions classroom, the particular scratchy scent of one of Slughorn's potion's wafting through the room, assaulting his senses.
"Bloody hell."
" – My apologies, everyone!" Slughorn began. "I was a little behind on my Pepper Up potions for Madam Pomfrey this morning and so I had to improvise slightly hence the rather pungent smell! Do take your seats like normal and we can begin momentarily."
The man looked utterly absurd. His usual robes were paired with dragonhide gloves, a comically undersized apron stretched across his rotund belly, and most peculiar of all, a World War II gas mask strapped to his face. Harry had seen one just like it in a documentary his uncle watched once; it had given him nightmares for weeks.
"I feel like I want to scratch my eyes out!" Ron groaned as Hermione led him by the arm to their table whilst Harry went over to his, raising an eyebrow at the Bubblehead Charms that Daphne, Lily and Tracey were sporting.
"Smart, ladies."
Tracey grinned. "My idea… would you like me to give you one, Mr Chosen One?"
Daphne and Lily rolled their eyes at the girl's eccentrics whilst Harry grimaced as he took his seat next to Daphne.
"No thanks, Davis."
"Good morning, Potter," Daphne greeted neutrally.
"Is it…?" Harry muttered, surveying the room full of bubble-headed students. "Feels like Fourth Year all over again except smellier."
He flicked his wand toward Slughorn, who was struggling miserably with a Ventus charm. A sharp gust swept through the classroom, clearing the air in seconds.
"Oh! That's better! Thank you, m'boy!" Slughorn said gratefully, ripping off the mask.
"Aww… I was looking quite forward to wearing my bubblehead for the rest of the class." Tracey pouted when Lily used her wand to poke her Bubble making it pop.
"I quite like air, Davis," Harry deadpanned, taking a deep breath of fresh air with a content smile. "That is better."
"Show-off," Daphne muttered with a roll of her eyes much to Harry's amusement.
"Oh… before I forget, here. This came in morning post."
Offering the boy a curious look, Daphne unfolded what seemed to be a letter, the seal of the Ministry of Magic already broken and began to read it. By the time she finished, she looked at Harry as though unsure whether she should believe what she'd just read. His amused nod confirmed it.
Harry then tilted his head towards Slughorn and without another thought, the girl stood up immediately, her stool scraping the ground so sharply that it quieted the room.
"Yes, dear?" Slughorn blinked when the blonde appeared before him.
Daphne cleared her throat.
"Professor, Potter has just received word that our petition to acquire the recipe for the Aetherial Draught has been approved by the Ministry. As such, we'd like to alter our current chosen potion for our Project."
"Aetherial Draught?"
" – The what Draught?"
"Merlin's Beard! How excellent! Truly excellent!" Slughorn exclaimed, his gleaming eyes immediately finding Harry's. "You must tell me how you got such a decision overturned m'boy, though I do feel as though I have an inkling on how you did it," he finished with a wink.
"Let's just say," Harry began with a wry smile, "the Ministry owes me, Professor…"
What proceeded from then was a whole lot of questions Harry wished he could've done without not to mention the outright piercing gaze from one Hermione Granger. Harry could still imagine seeing her mind churning, trying its hardest to figure out what such a draught could be. However, even he knew how obscure such a potion was.
After all, the entire recipe had to have been removed from official tomes. Even the Restricted Section didn't contain any specific recipe on how to make such a potion, only references that such a potion existed.
" – Surely, there are other candidates other than Peakes and Coote."
Harry thoughts were interrupted when he returned to the present. Rubbing at his temples, he sent Ron an irritated look.
Ron rolled his eyes at the look he was given. "Fine… but maybe just one of them? 'Such a waste of time otherwise because they're both bloody shit."
"What choice do I have? Can't magically summon your brothers and ask them to come play again, can I Ron?"
"I've seen Peakes and Coote play," Ginny piped up with a frown, "they're not that bad."
Ron scoffed dismissively. "They're a pair of twerps."
" – I thought the Quidditch trials were over?" Hermione said absentmindedly, her face buried in a book. A potions book to be specific. It looked similar to the one he and Daphne were perusing when they were choosing which potion to make for their project.
He sighed internally. This girl never gives up, does she…?
"There was apparently a scheduling conflict. Hufflepuff had booked out the pitch but had failed to run it past Hooch so instead they went over and complained to Sprout. Three guesses how that turned out," Harry muttered. "Should've socked Macmillan's smug face when I had the chance."
Hermione shook her head disapprovingly.
"Tosspot. Macmillan did that on purpose because Ravenclaw did the same thing to his house the week before. Posh git. He gets on my bloody nerves," Ron sulked. "I was ready as well! Siked myself up and everything! I knew if I tried out, I would've got Keeper, no doubt!"
"I don't know… McLaggen looked pretty sharp to me…"
Ron shot his sister a death glare and Ginny immediately held up her hands amusedly.
"Think of it this way," Hermione began quietly, avoiding Harry's gaze when he turned to her, "at least because of the rescheduling, you've had more time to practice."
"But now we have to cram in a last-minute trial tomorrow just before Transfiguration so none of you better be late otherwise you might as well not even turn up!" Harry finished, raising his voice at the end so that everyone in the Common Room heard. "I can't believe I'm even doing this in the first place…"
"Harry, you were chosen to be the captain, y'know," said Ginny with a slight frown.
The black-haired teen shook his head. "I should've just gone up to McGonagall and had her make Katie the captain instead. Merlin knows I'll be pants at it. In fact, I should've just given up my spot altogether."
Ron gasped as if he'd witnessed murder. "You wouldn't! No, no… you can't! I-I-I forbid it! How could you even say that?!"
"Give it a rest, Ron," Ginny deadpanned. "He's only joking. Aren't you, Harry?"
Harry gave the two siblings an displeased glare.
"What is wrong with you?!" Ginny exclaimed. "You love Quidditch!"
"Loved," Harry corrected, "I loved it right until Umbridge banned me last year, remember?"
Ron balked. "But that was just last year! Besides, it was bloody Umbridge! Who gives a shit what that bint thinks!"
"Ronald!" Hermione hissed before fixing Harry with a stare. "Honestly Harry, they're right you know. You seriously ought to grow up. It's just Quidditch."
Ron and Ginny didn't even blink at Hermione's words and soon, the moment passed as if she hadn't even said anything in the first place. Ron continued grumbling under his breath while Ginny rolled her eyes, apparently far more interested in Hermione's comment about Quidditch than her reprimand itself.
But Harry did feel the sting from her words, whether Hermione meant it or not.
'Grow up'… easy for her to say… not like she was the one who was publicly humiliated or anything.
He pushed his thoughts to the side. There was little point dwelling on it.
The group was sitting around the fire, drawing on its warmth as the flames crackled merrily in the grate. Today had been the coldest day of the year so far, and for Harry, it felt as though it was only the beginning. The frigid weather certainly did little to improve the mood.
He sat slightly apart from the others, one arm resting against the arm of his chair as he stared into the fire. Every so often, someone would say something that drew him back into the conversation, and he would offer a response or a quiet laugh when appropriate. For anyone watching, he probably looked perfectly content.
He wasn't.
This time of year was always a sore spot for the teen, after all.
He had thought he could keep himself distracted with Dumbledore's lessons, but the old man was otherwise preoccupied, and Harry was certainly not going to go to Snape to find out why.
Unfortunately, that left him with far too much time to think.
There had never been a moment in his life when something bad didn't happen during the anniversary of his parents' deaths. It had almost become a pattern at this point; one Harry had never been able to break.
Even now, with everything that had changed, he couldn't shake the feeling that this year would be any different. If anything, that certainty had only grown stronger especially with Voldemort publicly active once again.
Three more days. Only three more days until Halloween.
"Y'alright, mate?" Ron asked, finally noticing something may have been amiss when Harry had been quiet.
Harry smiled brightly. "Just peachy, Ron."
Hermione, overhearing, pursed her lips at the obvious sarcasm. Opening her mouth, she went to say something but thought otherwise when Neville came down the stairs. Trailing behind him was Seamus and Dean, their faces both with worry.
"What's wrong?" Ginny asked Dean who dropped beside her heavily.
"Nothing good…" the dark-skinned boy sighed. "You better listen to this."
Harry could feel the hairs on his arm stand up.
Seamus held out the Wireless he had in his hand and only nudged the volume up as the group leaned in.
" – Earlier, we at the Wizarding Wireless Network had been informed of some rather severe sounding news and only now have we received confirmation from the Ministry of Magic that the reports are in fact true. Earlier this evening, the Port of Boston had been razed to the ground. It is with great anguish that we report that all stationed Aurors and Ministry personnel who manned the Port… they… they have been confirmed dead at the scene."
The girls let out a collective gasp whilst Ron and Neville put their hands on their heads. Harry on the other hand, went completely quiet, his face eerily blank.
He knew the name.
Boston was one of Britain's primary points of magical transit for traffic coming across the North Sea and into the wider regions of the country. It was actually through there that he had smuggled Sierra White into the country when he had recruited her. Thanks to Dumbledore turning a convenient blind eye during that whole fiasco, the whole process was rather smooth.
To think that entire area was wiped out…
"Magical citizens who had managed to escape in the nick of time have provided the Ministry with early accounts of what had transpired that resulted in the death of so many citizens and I warn you, the following news may be distressing to some listeners… According to their statements, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was sighted alongside a multitude of black garbed individuals."
"The port's destruction coincides with earlier reports our Ministry had received from the Bulgarian and German Ministries on You-Know-Who being sighted on the Continent. Confirmation has been received that talks are underway with potential Premier Mage interference from Germany after it was determined in the last ICW summit that their interference would be permitted if the war here in Britain spilled over. Sources however indicate that talks are only in the preliminary stage and no such decision has been made of the time this is being aired. We will have further updates as more information follows. This is the Wizarding Wireless Network."
Harry stared into the flames as his friends around him spoke in hushed, anxious tones.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears, louder than before, while every nerve in his body seemed to have come alive. It was a sensation he knew all too well, one that had surfaced whenever he had found himself standing against seemingly insurmountable adversity.
Only this time, there was no enemy standing before him.
He could feel the mental dam beginning to crack as the overwhelming urge to act threatened to consume every rational thought in his mind.
Oh, how he yearned to wring their necks. The thought should have horrified him and yet, it felt disturbingly natural.
Maybe there was something deeply wrong with him.
The group was startled when Dobby suddenly appeared beside Harry, forcing him to forego his staring match with the flames.
"What is it, Dobby?" He asked quietly.
"For you, Master Harry."
Harry frowned when he accepted the folded parchment from Dobby. He cracked the paper open and read its contents and when he was done, a wry smile teased his lips.
"Where you off to?" Ron asked when Harry stood up with a sigh, leaning backwards to his crack his back slightly.
"To bed," Harry replied, letting the parchment fall from his fingers. It turned to ash before it even touched the ground. "You want to join?"
The other boys snorted, and the tension that had settled over the group finally broke as Ron huffed.
"Piss off, Harry."
"Pissing off now," the teen chuckled. "Night."
He turned his back to the group, feeling their curious eyes were on him as he made his way towards the stairs.
'I know how your mind works so brush your teeth and go to bed. Don't do anything stupid, idiot.'
Was what Harry received from Dobby a moment ago. Judging from the beautiful penmanship and with the fact that Dobby himself delivered the missive, there was only one person could've done sent that.
Ordering me around… who does she think she is?
CwD
Voldemort inhaled slowly, letting the scent of smoke and blood seep into him like a long‑denied indulgence. It truly was intoxicating. The screams had finally bled out into silence and Boston burned bright behind him.
Another victory.
"What finer way to announce my return," he murmured softly. "I do hope that Britain did not miss me too much."
His followers around him shouted triumphantly as they took in the damage that had befallen Boston.
"The taste of blood is pleasant," a voice remarked nearby. "It truly was an excellent decision to join this war."
Voldemort's crimson eyes drifted lazily towards the speaker.
Ah… Aldric.
Like Voldemort himself, his skin was unnaturally pale, though there the similarities ended. Smooth silver hair fell to his shoulders, framing a face that possessed an almost ethereal beauty. His eyes were as dark as midnight, and a seductive smile rested upon his lips, revealing the sharp tips of bloodied fangs.
Compared to the likes of his father, this young vampire was a fool. Little more than a child wearing the appearance of a man. He possessed the arrogance of someone desperate to prove himself, coupled with the reckless thirst for revenge that came from a grievance nurtured for far too long – qualities that made him oh so very malleable.
France had murdered his mother during the vampires' subjugation almost half a century ago and since then, he had vowed vengeance against Wizardkind. On the stagnant pride of a species that had not dared rise since the Immortal Alchemist crushed them.
It was laughable.
A few promises here and there was all it took to entice Count Dorian's only son and now, twenty vampires stood at his beck and call, with more once Aldric's father realised how inevitable Voldemort's victory would be.
"Clean your sword, Aldric. There will be many battles to come but for now, it is time to reconvene with the rest of my followers." Said the Dark Lord. "Our friendship must be celebrated after all."
Aldric's smile widened as he dragged his tongue along his bloodied blade.
Voldemort watched him with mild amusement. What a pathetic species…
"My Lord," Walden McNair said, dropping to one knee. "Our preparations are complete. I have also received word from our informants that the Auror department is beginning to mobilise. We have a minute, at most."
"More blood to spill!" Aldric hissed exuberantly, a concoction of snarls agreeing behind him.
McNair eyed the vampires with distaste before turning his eyes back to the Dark Lord who was gazing at something beyond the horizon.
"So very predictable," Voldemort murmured. "Signal the withdrawal, Walden."
"At once, my Lord. Morsmorde!"
A flare of green shot into the sky transforming into a giant skull with a serpent slithering from its maw. At once, the Death Eaters around them began to apparate away.
Aldric tilted his head in confusion. "We leave?"
"For now, this is enough." Voldemort held his arms out wide. "Let the Aurors choke on the stench of their failure. The announcement of my return will once again bring fear to the Magical World."
CwD
Pin drop silence.
That's what Severus Snape had walked into when he had arrived at Malfoy Manor. Without the Dark Lord to temper them, his fellow colleagues were nothing but a den of wild animals but today, there wasn't even a single peep.
It was strange but at the same time, it wasn't. If Snape was being honest, even he could feel it. Something lurking in the air that made him feel uneasy. Very uneasy.
"Pathetic, aren't they?" A voice purred.
The greasy haired man's eyes widened when Bellatrix perched her chin on his shoulder. She had somehow appeared behind him without him even noticing.
"They're like those muggles, remember?" Bellatrix continued. "They too were a rowdy bunch before we carved out their throats and strung them up by their ears from their roof," she giggled madly.
"Unlike the muggles, Bella, our colleagues are very much alive."
"A shame! They're all quite a boring lot. You fit right in, Snivellus." Bellatrix patted his cheek before gliding away into her seat by the end of the table.
Snape held back a sneer as he too, took his seat beside her. Taking a moment, he looked around those who had gathered.
Rodolphus' eyes were bloodshot. The deranged looking man seemed as if he was a hair away from exploding.
Snape supposed he couldn't blame him. For his brother to live for how long he did, to suffer the throes of Azkaban, only to be killed by a boy who had just completed his OWLs… anyone would be furious, least of all Rodolphus.
The silence still remained when Malfoy, Nott and Rookwood entered the room. Even they looked tense and when Augustus Rookwood of all people looked uneasy, Snape knew there was something amiss.
Abruptly, Bellatrix beside him stood, the crazed look in her eyes vanishing into a stony mask that immediately rose the hairs on Snape's neck.
" – Fucks sake, Lucius! Why on earth did you summon us so late?!" Amycus Carrow dramatically exclaimed, cutting through the silence.
Fucking idiot.
Malfoy didn't reply. He only moved to the side like Nott and Rookwood and for a second everything became eerily quieter.
"I hope I haven't been keeping you from your nightly ablutions, Amycus… Lord Voldemort would hate to be an… inconvenience…"
Snape swallowed as the Dark Lord stepped past the doorframe, his oppressive aura bathing the room in such vitriol magic that he began to feel slightly nauseous. Amycus Carrow on the other hand, was not so fortunate.
The man's eyes bulged as he clawed against his throat as if he was being strangled. His sister, Alecto, and the other Death Eaters could only watch in horror as Amycus' life was disappearing right in front of their eyes. But as quickly as his death was coming, the pressure on the man's throat vanished suddenly. Everyone turned their eyes to Voldemort who grinned malevolently at them.
"M-My Lord! You've returned!"
"Indeed… rise… greet your Lord."
At once everyone rose and bowed their heads low.
Voldemort, like a whisper, delicately stepped behind them. Snape, at one point, felt the Dark Lord's fingers ghost over his shoulder and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when it went away.
"Sit."
They all did.
"We have a new guest with us, my friends. Allow me to introduce to you Aldric Eisenherz, heir to the illustrious clan of Eisenherz. Our negotiations had gone well, and I am pleased to announce I have the support of him and his clan. Do make him and his brethren welcome."
Snape watched beady eyed as a pale, handsome individual grinned at them all before offering them a languid bow, taking a seat in between Nott and Malfoy much to their distaste.
"We are honoured," Aldric smiled toothily.
The Death Eaters all shifted. None was happy that a vampire of all people would be sitting amongst them as an equal.
Voldemort nodded before snapping his fingers. "Wormtail."
The snivelling rat appeared, prostrating himself before him.
"Some refreshments for us all and ensure proper accommodations are set up for our guest. With haste, Wormtail."
"Y-Yes master… at o-once master!"
Snape watched Voldemort cast his eyes over his followers with an easy smile. That was until he saw the spot next to Rodolphus was empty and his smile turned into a frown.
"Has Rabastan lost his way, Rodolphus?"
At the mention of his brother's name, Rodolphus flinched.
"My Lord – "
"I don't believe I addressed you, Thaddeus." Voldemort warned before training his eyes on the eldest Lestrange. "Rodolphus?"
"H-H-He… My b-brother…" Rodolphus struggled to get his words out which made the Dark Lord frown even more.
"Speak clearly – "
" – He's dead!" Rodolphus blurted out, unbridled rage painting his face in an ugly expression.
Voldemort's eyes flashed. "What?"
Snape held back a wince.
"He vas killed, my Lord."
The Dark Lord then turned his eyes to Antonin Dolohov. "How?"
Snape saw Dolohov grin. "Potter."
Bellatrix giggled next to him and Snape couldn't help the bitter expression from appearing on his face.
"Rabastan wasn't the only one…" Malfoy shifted. "Greyback was also killed by Potter."
Nagini, who in the meantime had coiled herself around Voldemort's chair, hissed violently.
Voldemort suddenly stood and strode over to Rodolphus.
"Look at me."
When Rodolphus hesitated, Voldemort harshly grasped the man by the cheeks, his long nails piercing into the flesh. "Show me, Rodolphus."
Rodolphus merely nodded as he closed his eyes and felt Voldemort's wand press against his temple. After extracting the memory, a Pensieve was brought without delay.
"Bella, Severus, Augustus, Antonin. You will join me as we view the memory."
Snape blinked but quickly collected himself as he and the others joined Voldemort and a moment later, they all dipped a finger in and found themselves on the battle worn grounds of Bones Manor.
Later, when they emerged, each had various degrees of expressions.
Dolohov's expression was almost intrigued-like whereas Bellatrix was breathing hard, her eyes shining with wonder. The expression made Snape feel positively sick.
Only Rookwood and Voldemort himself had their expressions carefully hidden.
"Thoughts, Augustus?"
Rookwood hummed. "The boy has improved leaps and bounds since the Summer. Dumbledore has clearly begun his training."
Voldemort slowly nodded.
"The boy also emulates Filius Flitwick and Alastor Moody," Dolohov mentioned loftily, "I didn't have the chance to vitness his duelling but da, I see them in him. I cannot vait for our next meeting."
Snape saw Bellatrix glare at the Russian's words who instead, looked completely unrepentant.
"His use of the Unforgivables is surprising," Rookwood scratched his chin. "I do not believe for a second Dumbledore would permit his boy to use them."
"Harry continues to surprise me especially the involvement with Dumbledore's phoenix at the end…" Voldemort whispered. Dispelling Fiendfyre like that… I've never seen anything quite like it…
"What can you tell me, Severus?"
"They meet regularly, my Lord. I am not privy to what they do or speak about. Dumbledore is very elusive particularly with Potter. I do not even know where they go for these so-called lessons. However, due to the reports of Potter's use of the Unforgivables, Dumbledore currently has his hands full with the ICW."
"Thaddeus?"
"What Severus says is true my Lord," Nott agreed. "There had been an emergency meeting called in Switzerland. All the major Premier Mages and their Ministers had been summoned to speak on Potter but unfortunately, no sanctions were applied to him directly."
"Premier Mages," Voldemort sneered. "An annoying bunch that would be problematic if they allied themselves and fought us together."
"Something which will never happen," Rookwood murmured.
Nott nodded at Rookwood. "Thanks to the fallout, Dumbledore has lost his role as Supreme Mugwump over this situation. With Lucius and I's meddling, Anton Vogel has taken his place, a great boon to us. We have all but ensured outside interference of foreign Premier Mages in this war will be circumvented."
The Death Eaters began to murmur at this.
Voldemort drummed his fingers on his chair. "A slimy character."
"A fool, my Lord," Malfoy agreed. "He believes us to be supporters of Gellert Grindelwald."
The Dark Lord sneered. "Remove him once his use expires. I do not need anyone who still lives for ghosts."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Thaddeus, Lucius – you have both done well. Preventing the other Premier Mages from interfering in this war was essential to our success."
"Thank you, my Lord," the two bowed.
" – We know of Nicholas Flamel and Albus Dumbledore; the defeater of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald," Aldric interrupted with a whisper, "are these other Mages powerful also?"
Voldemort nodded. "They all hold considerable political and magical power. As you said, Aldric, their pillar is Albus Dumbledore and yet, I am stronger than he. Even Bella and Antonin are stronger than a few of them."
Bellatrix preened at the praise whilst Dolohov simply chuckled.
"For now, I will study this memory some more in my own time," Voldemort murmured, running his fingers over Nagini's cool scales before fixing the eldest Lestrange with his gaze. "The attack on Bones Manor was an ill-timed endeavour and because of your foolishness, we have lost two important allies. In normal circumstances, I would punish you heavily for your idiocy, Rodolphus, but I believe you have been punished enough, and I am nothing if not a merciful Lord. You will however cease your pathetic wallowing."
"But Potter – "
"Silence," the Dark Lord said dangerously. "You will continue recruitment and conduct raids. Antonin, for now, pause your business in the Continent and remain in Britain. Any further commands will be to go through you. Is that clear, Rodolphus?"
Rodolphus hung his head whilst Dolohov nodded. "Yes, my Lord."
"And what of the werewolves, my Lord?" Nott asked. Snape saw the vampire curl his lips at their mention.
Voldemort's eyes briefly flared, no doubt at the loss of such an ally that brought with them a large group of numbers.
"Do nothing for now. That will be dealt later. Rest my friends, we will recuperate and convene at a future time. From here, our cause will only get stronger. You five… remain behind."
Snape ignored Malfoy's concerned look as most of the Death Eaters shuffled out, some voicing their happiness that Voldemort had returned.
"Augustus… How many men did we lose in the battle with Bones?"
Voldemort was angry. That much Snape could gather from the man's stony expression.
"Fourteen Death Eaters and over twenty Werewolves. Not counting Rabastan and Fenrir. It was a massacre, my Lord."
The Dark Lord clenched his fist as his red eyes burned furiously.
"There wouldn't have been nearly as many casualties if I was there," Bellatrix said in a sing song voice.
Snape, Nott and Malfoy stiffened, each looking between themselves.
Rookwood sat up straighter. "I forbade her, just as you instructed, my Lord."
Voldemort nodded slowly. "You did well, Augustus."
"My Lord, I – "
"Until I figure out what had happened to you that night in the Atrium, Bella, I will not send you out again."
Bellatrix's eyes flashed for a moment.
"Nothing happened to me! I'm still Bella! Your Bella!" She exclaimed, clutching the end of Voldemort's sleeve desperately.
Snape knew if anyone else had done such a thing, they would've breathed their last.
Voldemort smiled, an ugly sight on the man's snake-like features. "Yes… yes, you are but for now, you will remain here. Where it is safe."
Bellatrix's face twisted once more and this time, she couldn't hide it. She stood up, the chair scraping harshly on the floorboards causing Nagini to hiss dangerously at her and stomped towards the door.
Malfoy looked at her retreating feature venomously. "How dare she!"
"My Lord, if I may, you allow her too many concessions," Snape murmured.
Voldemort clicked his tongue annoyedly.
"She continues to get restless," Rookwood pointed out. "I fear it may not be long before she lashes out again… the next time Potter is involved… and the last time that happened, Corban was killed."
"I am aware, Augustus!" Voldemort snapped before taking a calming breath. "It's like I surmised, the Cruciatus Curse that hit her in the Atrium has warped her thoughts and emotions."
"Potter's?! Surely not –" Malfoy began incredulously, lowering his head when Voldemort's displeased eyes settled on him.
"Though it wasn't an actualised Cruciatus, Harry's spell did something to her."
Nott hummed. "She was already mad to begin with, my Lord. Perhaps this is another one of her little spells."
"Perhaps…" Voldemort murmured but he wasn't sure. Bellatrix's infatuation for Harry was eerily similar to her infatuation for him when they first met. For a witch as devoted as Bellatrix was, this power struggle between he and Harry was something he couldn't allow.
He couldn't lose Bellatrix to Potter.
He'd rather kill her himself.
"She needs to be continuously monitored. I'd suggest Severus inspect her mind,"
" – My Lord – "
" – But he's too valuable to take out of Hogwarts currently."
Snape shoulders sagged.
"For now, leave her be. What is the name of the shadow that stalks her?"
"Pyrites, my Lord." Malfoy answered.
"Instruct him to continue keeping an eye on her. If he senses any flare ups due to her state of mind, relay it to one of you so you can relay it to me. Let me be absolutely clear, gentlemen, our cause cannot lose Bella. I'd rather skin you all alive than have her die or worse, turncoat."
Snape noticed even Rookwood looked uncomfortable at that.
"Do you all understand?"
They could do nothing but agree.
"My Lord, I do not think you should give overt thought to Potter," Snape said when it was just him and the Dark Lord in the room.
Voldemort held his hand up. "I am well aware of your distaste for the boy and how much it clouds your judgment. Do not concern yourself with it."
Snape pursed his lips but nevertheless, inclined his head. "Yes, my Lord."
"Now, tell me about Lucius' of his progress?"
"His progress… is slow. He's getting desperate, my Lord. It doesn't help that Potter's sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. Only the other day, Potter had unfortunately overheard a conversation between myself and Draco…"
"Oh? I'd imagined a man of your skills in detection would have been able to identify someone lurking, Severus."
"In the moment, no, my Lord. Draco's ignorance and stubbornness had proved to be too much of a distraction when I had confronted him. I had only realised Potter had overheard our conversation when I had walked past him. He had donned a Disillusionment Charm of all things," Snape finished bitterly.
Voldemort hummed quietly for a moment, clearly lost in thought as he absentmindedly stroked Nagini's smooth scales. Snape knew better than to interrupt the man.
"There will be an attack on Hogsmede in the near future," the Dark Lord eventually said in a whisper.
Snape held his breath.
"When that is, I cannot say yet. It needs to be planned and well thought out but nonetheless, there will be for it will serve two purposes." Voldemort held out two bony fingers to the ceiling. "One, for me to test how strong Hogwarts' wards really are. There will come a day when the future of this country hangs on our subjugation of that Castle and for that, I must know what I'm dealing with."
"And the second, is that the attack will provide the distraction that dear Draco needs to accomplish his task."
"My Lord," Snape began carefully, "what exactly is the task you have given to Draco?"
Voldemort laughed. "Now my slippery friend, that would be telling."
"And if I may, my Lord… if I wasn't to know the nature of Draco's task, why is it you had me swear an Unbreakable Vow?"
"A test. For you, Severus."
"M-My Lord?"
Voldemort's crimson eyes glowed malevolently and yet, the easy smile never left his face.
"To see whether you'd give to me your infrangible loyalty even when you don't know the why."
Snape swallowed. "Have I… have I not proven myself already, my Lord?"
"You have but this… this is the ultimate test for we shall see if the years after my initial demise has altered you, Severus. You will find out the nature of Draco's task on the day we attack and it is then where you will choose how you react. Until then, you will not return here until I personally call for you."
Hearing the dismissal, Snape at once stood and offered the man a bow.
"My Lord, before I leave… was it truly wise to bring the likes of a Vampire into your ranks?
"You seem sceptical, Severus."
"They cannot be trusted."
Voldemort smirked, picking up his goblet that contained red wine. "No… they cannot, despite that, our negotiations have held after promising a few… concessions. We will appease them for now until we have gained considerable ground on the Continent. Afterwards, I will vanquish the half-breed colony myself."
CwD
October 29th, 1996
"Ginny Weasley, Katie Bell, Demelza Robins – Chasers. Well done, girls."
The girls all grinned widely at Harry who nodded back with a smile before crossing their name off a piece of parchment he had in his hand before turning to a group of people who looked up at him anxiously.
"Jimmy Peakes, Ritchie Coote – Beaters. Good work, lads."
The two younger boys jumped up and down in joy before running up to Harry and attempted to hug the teen who instead glared at them, stopping them in their tracks. Sheepishly they returned to their place.
Harry cleared his throat, looking down at his sheet with a small frown.
"Keeper… Ronald Weasley."
There was a small round of surprised applause as the people looked between a rather queasy-looking Ron and an incensed Cormac McClaggen.
"This is bullshit!" Cormac exclaimed unhappily, throwing his broom onto the ground. "My broom – "
" – Shut it, McClaggen!"
Harry sighed. "Seeker…"
Katie elbowed Harry hard in the side and gave him a pointed look.
He rolled his eyes.
"Harry Potter – Seeker. Ginny Weasley – back up Seeker. Sweet. Can I go now?"
"Will you say something, you pillock?! Just look at their faces," Katie whispered, tilting her head towards the rather large group of try-outs who looked awfully put out for not being selected.
"Fine," Harry sighed, pursing his lips. "Uh… thank you, everyone, for coming to today's, uh, quidditch try-outs. Congratulations to those who were selected. Katie here will give you further instructions on our training schedule. To those who didn't make the cut this year… better luck next year?"
"Nice going, Potter," Cormac exclaimed sarcastically. "Nice and smoo – "
Harry only needed to send the older boy a pointed look for him to hold his tongue.
"Dismissed."
" – Attaboy, Ronald! I'm honestly quite surprised you managed to stay on your broom let alone make Keeper," guffawed Seamus, whacking Ron on the shoulder snapping him out of whatever funk had befallen him.
"Piss off, you Irish git."
Dean slipped his arm over Ginny's shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. When Ginny saw Harry watching them, her face went red as she wiggled out from the boy's embrace.
"Dean!" She whispered hotly.
"Whaaat? Can't I congratulate my girlfriend for making the team?"
" – She probably means not to do it in front of Ron, Dean," Hermione said with an amused smile. "You know how he's like. Congratulations, Ginny! You were amazing out there!"
"Honestly think the bloke's too busy in-denial at being picked for Keeper than your love life. Congrats, Ginny," Neville said warmly.
Ginny went to say something but held her tongue and gave the two a forced smile. "Thanks guys."
" – The execution was poor mate, but at least you got ten for ten. Unlike that clown McClaggen. Still don't know how he missed the last one."
"Merlin, I was bloody struggling," Ron bemoaned. "A blind man could see that I was."
"Well…" Seamus stopped when Hermione gave him a pointed look. "I mean… you were actually doing quite well. Right, Nev?"
Neville nodded slowly. "Sure, but that still doesn't explain what happened to McClaggen's broom. You just know he's going to be insufferable for the rest of the year for not being chosen."
Hearing this, Harry turned his gaze to Hermione who had moved over to Ron's side, holding his battered broom. Sensing his gaze, the two briefly made eye contact which was all Harry needed to see.
Hermione was never good at hiding her emotions and written across her face was pure guilt. Guilt for what she had done, what she had influenced. Harry had sensed her magic before she had even casted it and though he could've intervened, for some reason, he chose not to.
Did he simply not care anymore? Apparently neither did Hermione. Blatantly breaking the school rules like the way she did to sabotage McClaggen.
Harry stared at her face, taking in her pinkened cheeks and delicate features. Even in the freezing temperatures of Scotland, Hermione was beautiful. She was stunning and yet, for the past couple of weeks…
No. Harry still cared. Of course he cared.
He unconsciously rubbed the ring Daphne gave him. He groaned internally. He seriously needed to stop doing that. It was such an annoying habit he unfortunately picked up.
"Ask Hermione," muttered Harry, turning his back to the group of friends as he began making his way back to the castle. "I'm getting out of the cold; I'll see you guys later."
"Wait what – ?"
"Har – "
Harry cared but apparently not as much anymore. The emotion was sobering as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over his head.
It doesn't matter… he intoned, shaking his head. I've got more pressing things to worry about.
And it was true. There was the issue with Malfoy, keeping up with his grandfather and Dumbledore's training and not to mention his schoolwork that he was slowly beginning to fall behind on.
Curfew can't come soon enough… it's the only time in the day where I can relax a little…
But even with everything going on in his personal life, the main component was Voldemort. The man was back and from what Harry could gather from his mother's letter that came this morning, the wider political sphere was beginning to get restless too because of it.
Harry felt as though he was being stretched in every direction possible and the weight on his shoulders gradually getting heavier and heavier.
" – For the last time, I didn't do anything!" Harry barely heard Hermione huff irritably a couple of steps back.
He didn't turn around. He wanted to but he held himself back.
Fucking hell… I've seriously been a moody git all term.
Hedwig glided soundlessly from the skies, landing on the teen's shoulder without a sound. As if sensing her Harry's mood, she gently nipped his ear, nuzzling her head against his cheek.
"Right, right. At least you're still the same, Hed," Harry cracked a smile before letting out a sigh as he could hear his friends' voices behind him.
Why are girls so fucking complicated?
Eventually, the teen entered back into the castle and thankfully, the sensation in his toes began to slowly return and yet, the coldness in his heart refused to settle.
Where's Daphne when you need her…?
CwD