26

Chapter XXVI: A Boiling Point

(?)

What could almost be described as a smile had crossed the face of the normally decrepit shell of a man as he twirled his yew wand along his boney fingers. The gentle hissing of his snake echoed through the hollow room of his father's old home, a feeling of ecstasy now racing through his body as he called the screaming of his muggle relatives the day he'd first returned to the Riddle Manor. Though to his great annoyance, the silence had not remained pure as the whimpering of a broken man worked as an undercurrent of sound.

"Kill me," The man whispered, "Just kill me."

"Kill you," The distorted figure spoke in fake astonishment from his throne-like chair, "After everything you've done for me? What kind of lord would I be if I did something like that?" A crooked grin had crossed his face once more as he turned down to face the quivering man, Barty Crouch Senior. He couldn't help but think to himself that the man responsible for confining many of his loyal followers to the cells of Azkaban had been an unwilling participant in his future rise to power was laced with layers of tremendous irony.

"Son," The man whispered, his voice broken with pain, "Please, your mother wouldn't have-" But before the Head of the Magical Cooperation department could say another word, his face was met by a ferocious kick from one of the Dark Lord's most loyal, and the man's son. A thunderous crack filled the air as a cackle erupted from the Dark Lord's rudimentary body.

"I'm no son of yours," Barty Crouch Jr. hissed with anger, "And when my master asks you a question, you will answer it!"

Slowly, the heir of the Riddle house raised his hand and all movement ceased within the room, "Your loyalty to me, Barty, is something that I promise you will be rewarded for in time," He said with a voice weakened by his form, "But the man still has his uses for us as a pawn, and we can't allow the head of a Ministry Department to go missing for much longer without turning any heads." There was a slight pause in his voice, as his snake-like red eyes rested upon the man trembling in pain, "Though I must compliment you, you've followed orders nicely. We have broken his body and his spirit, I find it unlikely that he'll be able to resist my persuasion any longer. Take him to Narcissa, have his wounds treated and bring him back to me. I have other matters to attend to."

"Karkaroff!" He bellowed loudly into the open room, not wanting to even face his feeble servant who quaked by his side.

"Y-yes My Lord," The Durmstrang Headmaster said, his voice uneasy.

"I do hope you remember that demonstration," the Dark Lord spoke calmly, "You have betrayed me once, and had you not been willing to provide me your aid and insight that due to Severus' current standing within Hogwarts he cannot currently provide, I would have seen you executed after my rise. I want you to understand me well though, should you fail or betray me again, your death will be far more excruciating than you can even imagine." The Durmstrang Headmaster's face went as pale as a ghost as a twisted grin grew upon the Dark Lord's face. "Good, it seems we've come to an understanding" He hissed, "Now, bring me to the sitting room, I have a person waiting for me."

As the Dark Lord was hoisted into the air, a deep frown developed along his face. Soon, he thought to himself, Soon I shall rise again, and the world will cower at my name. Then, Harry Potter, once I have destroyed your will to live, I will kill you. With great care, though only from fear of punishment did he find himself moving quickly through the manor, the rapid pulse of the frightened man potent enough to be felt against his leathery pink skin through the Headmaster's fingertips. For both their sakes, he was pleased that they'd arrived at the sitting room quickly, and as the door opened, his visitor stood at attention, a tired look plastered on his face. "My lord," He said with a deep bow, "Thank you for meeting with me."

"Of course, Jonathan," the Dark Lord spoke with a soft voice that mimicked a caring tone, "You've done me a great service in retrieving my book, and I am a man who will always reward those loyal to me." Softly the man's poor excuse for a body was dropped comfortably into the seat across from the Head of the Greengrass Household and with a practiced smile he whispered, "Tell me, what is it that you desire."

"As of yesterday," Jonathan began, "The situation has become direr. While it's managed to be contained once more, I fear that the future effects will be catastrophic if nothing is done. Please my lord," He whispered in a tone filled with trauma, "Help me. Help her."

"In due time, Jonathan," The Dark Lord hissed, "You have fulfilled your end of the bargain, and one day, with your allegiance to my cause, once I have laid my claim to this poor muggle-loving excuse of the Magical World, I swear I shall fulfill mine. For now though, you must complete your orders, we must not allow the excess funding towards the DMLE. I trust you shall not fail me."

"No, my lord," Jonathan said firmly, "I will trust in your word and your orders. I will do what I must."

"Excellent," The man said with a nod, "Once I return, I will make both our ambitions a reality."

(Astoria P.O.V)

Never in her life had she felt so uncomfortable in the halls of Hogwarts. For the moment she'd arrived at the castle, she loved it. It had felt like a home rather than a prison, and the fact that she had made friends here rather than people that constantly pressed her about her condition was something that had brought joy beyond belief to her heart. Ever since she'd elected to stay at the castle, however, she'd felt how things had changed.

Sure, the majority of the students who'd returned from the Christmas Holiday had treated her the same, but it wasn't like she truly cared about their opinion. The people she did care for though, had all begun tiptoeing around her. Daphne had been spending every waking moment outside of class in her dormitory, not even bothering to come out for meals which she could only assume were being delivered to her by Dobby, if she was even eating at all. A concern that had become much more valid as she'd overheard Tracey whispering to Harry regarding her sister's condition, and if the look on Harry's face was anything to go by, it wasn't good.

Harry's reaction to her, had possibly been even more painful. He'd barely talk to her, though, since his fight with Daphne, he'd barely talk to anyone. When she'd gotten her broom, all she'd ever wanted to do was go flying with him, but Harry had been seeming to do whatever he could to fill his schedule just to avoid being around anyone. The number of times she'd even seen Harry over the past two weeks could fit on one hand, and every time she had, the boy looked miserable, his body looking as if it was about to fall apart all while trying to act that he was okay with the fact that he was obviously missing her sister terribly.

It's all my fault, she thought to herself grimly as she looked down at her desk, her fingernails digging into the wood as blood pulsed through her head rapidly. Why am I always such a burden? Why can't I do anything right? "Ms. Greengrass," She heard a voice from the front of the class call out to her, "Class was dismissed."

Astoria's eyes widened, her mind feeling fuzzy as she returned to the realm of reality. She looked down at her textbook, Intermediate Transfiguration, before glancing up at the woman addressing her. Professor McGonagall had always been a rather firm looking woman, though Astoria knew first had of the kindness that rested in the old woman's heart. "Sorry Professor," Astoria said glumly, "I must have gotten distracted."

"It's alright," Professor McGonagall said calmly, "Tell me, Ms. Greengrass, how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling like I'm getting sick of being asked that question every time I leave a class," She said with a grimace, "Even Professor Moody asked me how I was feeling, which honestly only made me feel more concerned for my health." She felt her fingers curl inward towards her palm as she looked up at her Head of House, "Why does that everybody look at me like that?" She said her voice trembling.

"Look at you like what?" McGonagall asked though Astoria was certain she already knew the answer.

"Like I'm some kind of pitiful animal," She said anger resonating in her voice, "Like I'm some pathetic person in need of sympathy. I never wanted anyone feeling bad for me!" She shouted her emotions rising, "For Merlin's sake even Snape looks at me like I'm a wounded kitten!" She shot up from her chair, "Harry won't talk to me! My sister won't even look at me! And I just can't take it anymore!" Her fist slammed angrily against the table shaking the teapots that lined the desks in preparation for tomorrow's class, "Why can't people just treat me like I'm normal!"

Astoria hadn't even bothered to wait for her head of House's response, her heart had felt like it was shattering in her chest, and as she raced out of the classroom into the crowded hall, her feelings had only become worse. From across the busy corridor, she caught the slightest glimpse of Harry, Michael's palm resting comfortingly on his shoulder as the Boy-Who-Lived looked longingly at her sister who seemed unable to meet his eye before racing towards the Slytherin Dormitories. Damn it, damn it, damn it! She screamed in her mind, rage echoing through her body, Why can't I do anything right?

I need to be alone, I want to scream, I need to get out of here, She thought to herself, unsure of where exactly her legs were carrying her, but grateful that she was moving away from the crowd that was currently pushing towards the Great Hall. Her tears had become blinding, leaving nothing but distorted figures in her path, but she could feel their eyes resting upon her, their attention focused on her completely unaware that attention was all she'd been hoping to avoid.

She weaved through the body of students as nimbly as she could, her shoulders beginning to hurt from the hard impacts she'd faced, but eventually, she'd ended up at her final destination, the place where everything had gone to shit, the Astronomy Tower. I should have just fallen out, She thought to herself, her stomach curling, At least then I wouldn't have to deal with everything falling apart, at least then Daphne would be free. She swallowed hard as she looked over the balcony assessing the drop, her mind felt hazy, and she had felt her throat grow hot as finally, she released her pent up frustration screaming into the open sky.

Her lungs had felt like they were on fire as she released a heart-breaking roar, but she had felt her pulse begin to slow and her tears begin to dry. She placed her hand on her chest, the anger in her soul seeming to have been exiled by her thunderous shout of frustration bringing her the smallest whisper of relief. That was until a completely new feeling formed to take its place as from behind her, a familiar voice called out, "I was going to ask if you were feeling okay, but I think I already got my answer."

A red flush began to develop her face as she glanced at the blonde curly-haired boy, a frown plastered on her face as he looked at her with unreadable eyes. "How much of that-," She started looking at the ground, "How much of that did you see?"

"Enough to make me genuinely concerned you were considering throwing yourself off the tower," Damyan said softly, walking over to her, taking her hand gently in his, "Want to talk?"

"About what?" Astoria replied not wanting to address the elephant in the room. But Damyan remained silent, simply guiding her away carefully from the ledge towards the back wall, bringing her down to the ground as they sat beside each other watching the sunset on the horizon.

"It's a beautiful sunset, you know," Damyan said with a bright smile, "We don't normally get views like this at Durmstrang, the landscape is nice, I think I've told you that already, but the weather can be even worse than here sometimes." Astoria turned to face the boy as he squeezed her hand gently, "It would have been a shame if you threw yourself out the window before seeing this, don't you think?"

"I wasn't actually going to do it," Astoria said whispered, her free hand digging into the stonework of the tower's floor. "I just, I needed to- well, I don't know what I needed, but screaming seems to have helped a bit." She still couldn't stand to look the boy in the eyes as with a mumble, barely able to be heard she spoke, "I'm sorry about what happened, I um, I didn't want to worry you."

The boy remained quiet, and Astoria quickly began to feel as if Damyan was no longer looking at her, but through her. If anyone else had looked at her like that, she'd have hated it, it normally had made her feel small and powerless, but Damyan, his expression seemed different. It wasn't one of distance, rather it looked more attune to discomfort. The tension grew as the air became thick in the silent room before with a sigh, Damyan spoke, "LAM disease."

"What?" Astoria asked, her head cocked and brow furrowed.

"It's a disease, a muggle one typically, it's fatal, and I have it." Damyan had not even bothered to stare at her as he continued, "In some ways, it's not all that different from what you have." Astoria's eyes only seemed to grow wider as she looked up at the boy, "I knew you were sick with something from the moment I met you at the World Cup, you had that look in your eyes, a look that simply screamed that you wanted to live on your terms, I know it well, I see it in the mirror all the time. The only thing I didn't know was what it was exactly, now I do."

"So," Astoria said calmly, "I was right too, no kind of allergy would have you coughing up blood like you did in Charms a few months back. But it's different, you have a muggle disease, surely there is something magical to cure it. With my blood curse, well, the statistics speak for themselves… one hundred percent fatal."

"You'd think so, huh?" Damyan said leaning back, "I can't tell you how many potions my father forced me to drink, how many operations I've undergone, how successful they've all been. Sure a potion may kill the overgrowth of cysts, but they always come back, and both the operation and the potions put so much strain on my body, I've stopped requesting treatment."

"So you're going to-"

"Die," Damyan said with a nod, "Yeah. But we're the same you know, I don't want people pitying me, I want to live my life how I see fit."

"How long?" She asked a feeling of shared agony glowing behind their eyes.

"Maybe a little more than you, maybe a little less," A smirk grew across the boy's face as he gazed into her kaleidoscopic eyes, "I'll race you." For the slightest moment, a light grin appeared upon her face as she felt Damyan's hand rest on her shoulder, "Life is for the living, at least, that's what my father likes to tell me. What you're doing, isolating yourself, getting angry, nearly throwing yourself off towers, that's not living."

"What can I do," Astoria said with a sigh, "Everyone I care about looks at me like I'm some kind of freak now." Her fist began to curl up once more, "Daphne's been holding herself up in her room doing Merlin knows what, all my professors talk to me like I'm some wounded animal, and Harry won't even look me in the eyes long enough for me to even talk to him."

"Then be louder," Damyan said, "One mistake that people tend to make is that we expect everyone to know how we feel without saying a word. If you don't want to be treated like a sick little girl, make sure you remind the people around you of what you want them to see, and if they don't want to listen to you, scream it until your lungs give out. If they don't want to look at you, wrap your hands around their face and force them to see. But never, allow people to make you feel small."

There was silence as Astoria rose to her feet, her focus realigned. He's right, she thought to herself, cowards run, and I'm no coward. As she reached the archway of the tower door, she stopped for a mere moment to face the boy that had come to console her, his face relaxed as he looked on into the distance, "You know, you've really got a way with words." The boy shrugged as if it had been something he'd heard before but never truly accepted, "Thank you, Damyan."

"Anytime," He replied with a voice just above a whisper, "Astoria."

(Harry P.O.V)

A bolt of red hurtled rapidly towards the Boy-Who-Lived as with all the strength he had, he leapt out of the way. Landing with a thud, he quickly rose to his feet, but he had been too slow finding his legs locked to the ground, bound by a black and putrid looking sludge. Wrapping his hand firmly around his wand, he began muttering the counter curse but was stopped by the flat end of the Auror's staff pressed into his chest.

He looked up tiredly at the Auror, but Moody had not the slightest ounce of sympathy in his face. Harry doubted the man even knew the meaning of the word, as with a heated shout he roared, "Boy! What in the name of Morganna's Saggy Tits was that horrendous display!"

Harry flinched slightly beneath the Auror's voice before he finished releasing the curse that tied him down, rising to meet the Auror, "Sorry Professor," Harry said tiredly, "I'm just a little distracted." Though that was an understatement. Harry couldn't quite remember one instance over the past two weeks in which he'd gotten a good night's sleep. He was thankful that Astoria was allowed to stay in the castle under careful moderation, but the fact that Harry now knew the girl's days were numbered was slowly beginning to drive him mad. It also hadn't helped that while Tracey and Blaise had both been begging for him to go talk to Daphne and smooth things over, the girl seemed to be avoiding everyone, not even coming out for meals. She's falling apart, Tracey's words had rung in her head, She loves Astoria more than anything, and I'm afraid she'll do something stupid and dangerous soon.

"You don't have time to be distracted boy," Moody said, his voice still sharp but calm, "He's coming back, you understand that don't you? Do you think the Dark Lord is going to care that your feelings were hurt? You need to get your act together, for everyone's sake."

"Don't you think I know that!" Harry shouted, the Auror forcing him to his boiling point, he closed his eyes releasing a heavy sigh, "Sorry, I know that my feelings don't matter when it comes to war, but right now, it's just a lot, okay?"

To his great surprise, rather than barking an order, he felt the touch of Moody's hand on his shoulder delivering him a firm squeeze. "I'm aware of what you've been going through with both Greengrass girls, I know you care for both of them deeply, but you must understand your place in this war. We don't have time to waste finding cures for blood curses or dealing with feelings of betrayal from your girlfriend. After all, it's not like you've told any of your friends the truth about your fate with Voldemort."

Harry's face became as pale as snow as he looked up at the Auror who stood there his face indiscernible, "All the Professors were informed of Miss Greengrass' condition after she elected to stay, as for the Prophecy, Dumbledore allows me to be privy to information he may not be so forthcoming to others with." Harry could only look down in dread as the words of the Prophecy echoed in his mind, "You've been lying to your friends the whole time, boy." He said calmly, "You're training them to survive the war, not to fight the Dark Lord, in the end, you know that only you are capable of killing him once and for all."

"People look to you as the White Knight of this war, boy." Harry hated that term, but Moody paid him no mind as he continued, "When war comes to the doorstep of the wizarding world, people are going to fight for you, and you need to be ready to do whatever it takes to win. War is a messy thing, people die, people get tortured, and even those that survive must live with the scars that lace both their body and mind. The Old Man preaches for love, but loving those you enter a battle with will only lead to anguish. A leader must learn detachment, a skill that young Astoria's fate will help you practice."

Harry had felt as if he'd been sinking in a frosty ocean as an overwhelming feeling of cold began to seep into his core. Over the past two weeks, he'd grown to greatly respect his trainer. Moody had never taken it easy on him, he had the bruises to prove it, but he had also always been bluntly honest with his opinions and measurements of his skill. In fact, Harry had felt he'd grown more over the past two weeks than over the entire summer, and yet, he could accept the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor's words. Give up on Astoria, he thought to himself bitterly, Over my dead body. There's a cure out there, I have to find it. I will save her.

He felt his fingers curl upwards into his palm as his body trembled under his tense muscle contraction as he looked up at his trainer, a forced smile on his face. "I can't do that. Becoming a detached person, that's just not who I am." He closed his eyes taking a deep breath before continuing, "I know that's foolish, and that you may be right that because of my choice I'll always experience pain. But," Harry said his eyes firm with determination, "I won't abandon the people who volunteer to fight beside me, and I will not allow my comrades to die, that is absolute."

"You're stubborn and annoyingly optimistic about this war," Moody said his authentic eye closed while the other zipped behind him, "Much like your mother. I hope though, for the sake of the wizarding world that you're right." Harry nodded at the man's words before he removed the staff from his chest, "We've been at it for a while," Moody said, "And you hardly look able to move in your condition, go get some rest, we'll be back here at the same time tomorrow."

Harry nodded and without another word, he left the room of requirement, his book bag filled with any textbooks related to curses that Kreacher could find in the Black Family Library as with a brisk pace, he moved as fast as his injured body could carry him to the Gryffindor Tower.

His relief upon entering the Gryffindor Tower simply could not be measured. His legs trembled to support his weight, and his body that was currently littered with black and blue spots burned as if he'd been placed in the center of an inferno. It had been manageable before, primarily thanks to Daphne's fantastic pain-ointment, but now his stash had finally run dry, and even if he had wanted to confront Daphne, the girl had a knack for disappearing when she wanted to.

It was only after he placed down his bag that he noticed that he hadn't been the only Gryffindor who'd chosen to skip dinner, as sitting in his favorite armchair, her new broom resting upon her lap was none other than Astoria Greengrass. He couldn't quite understand the emotion he was feeling, was it hurt, no, despair, no, in reality, all Harry felt was broken and numb as he eyed the girl he'd come to love as a little sister, but Astoria's firm gaze held a different story.

The second-year Gryffindor hadn't given Harry a moment to even collapse onto the couch as she approached, "Hey, Harry," but he couldn't turn, he didn't want to see her, the image of the blood leaking from her every orifice was a horror too painful to relive. Despite his lack of contact though, she continued, "I haven't really had a chance to go on my first flight with your gift. Do you want to come out to the courtyard and watch?"

He shook his head, his eyes now glued to the ceiling as he rested his battered-body on the velvet-red couch. "Sorry Astoria, can't right now."

"Okay, well, maybe we could go get dinner, I think they have ribs tonight," She said a bit of frustration building in her voice, "I-"

"Really, Astoria, I'm busy. Maybe next time," Harry said off-handedly as he reached into his bag, desperate to begin his research. "Why don't you just go down without me?"

Had Harry looked, he may have noticed the redness building up across the girl's face, but his eyes had become locked in on the leather-bound book he currently held in his hands. Yet, despite the forced distance, Astoria persisted, "Have you learned any cool spells with Moody that you can teach me, or maybe you can even help me master the maximum shield charm, last time I tried it I accidentally-"

"Too dangerous," Harry said once more without a single glance as Astoria felt her blood begin to boil.

There was silence, as the desperation he'd heard in Astoria's voice began to arrive at a boiling point. I should say something, he thought to himself, but what? What am I supposed to do? Things aren't normal any-

"Look at me!" Instantly, the book fell from Harry's hands as Astoria's outburst shook the common room. His Emerald Green eyes peered into hers with deep concern, and while Astoria had finally won his reaction, the tears in her eyes had failed her, and Harry watched her composure shatter, "Why do stare at me like that? Like I'm some wounded animal! I don't want pity! I don't want you to feel bad for me! Be angry with me! Hate me! Do anything but look at me like I'm some fragile doll!"

"Astoria I-," Harry started but Astoria couldn't stop herself, for weeks Harry had suspected these feelings had been boiling within her and now, whether he was ready for it or not, it was time to let them out.

"I can take it from everyone else!" She shouted, "I can take it from Tracey, and Blaise, and my sister, but I can't take it from you!" Her voice trembled in her throat, "You were the only friend I ever had that didn't look at me with those pitiful eyes! You were the only one who ever looked at me like I wasn't some poor dying girl! You looked at me like I was a person, a normal person! You'd eat dinner with me! You'd fly with me! You'd help me get better at magic! You let me live my life, you were the only one who let me live! I can't handle it when you look at me like that!"

"Short Stack-"

"I don't want to die, Harry!" She shouted, unable to control herself, "I'm scared and angry and I hate the fact that I'm stuck with that fate, but I'd rather die than have everyone look at me like they're sorry that I'm even alive!" There was no more self-control left in her voice as she released all her pain, "Everyday I watch you stumble in through the portrait hole in complete agony because your pain cream that Daphne makes for you is all used up, and you try to keep yourself occupied because you don't want to face the fact that you and her had a fight because of me! Meanwhile, my sister is wilting away in her room, refusing to come out for food because she feels like a failure not knowing how to stop me from dying and because she loves you and thinks that you'll never forgive her for not telling you about me!"

"But that isn't her fault!" She shouted, "I made her promise not to tell anyone! I didn't want anyone to know about my sickness! I wanted to have a chance to make actual friends and when you started treating me like I was your little sister it made me happy! I wanted to tell you that I was sick but I didn't want you to start treating me differently! I just-"

Harry could no longer stop himself as tears began flowing from his sister's plea. His pain had seemed to flash away as he bolted forward from his spot on the couch, wrapping his baby sister up in his arms as he drew comforting circles on Astoria's back, her breath now ragged and filled with hiccups. "I just wanted everything to go back to normal. I just wanted to keep being your little sister, and I want you and Daphne to stop fighting because it's obvious that you two love each other, and I don't want my sister to be alone after I die, and I-"

"Short Stack," Harry whispered softly, "Everything's going to be okay. I promise you, I will find a way to save you, and I will work things out with Daphne, and I promise that no matter what happens I will never leave either of you two alone. We're a family Astoria, we're in this together."

"I just feel this is all my fault and I can't handle the fact that I put this wedge between you and her when all I wanted was to keep everything the same," Astoria said her voice softening as she hugged Harry back with weak arms, "I just wanted to be normal, just for a little while longer, please."

"Okay," Harry whispered softly, "And tomorrow, maybe we can even go for a test flight. If you really show me some promise, I might even teach you a few tricks."

"Really," She whispered back her voice steadying beneath the soft gasps.

"Really," He said with a nod, "But for now, I've got to go find your sister. It's about time we stop acting so child-," Harry hadn't even gotten a moment to finish his sentence as a loud pop filled the common room. Reflexively, he pushed Astoria behind him, his wand drawn to face the threat, but there was none to be found. Instead, all that remained in the epicenter of the apparition was a trembling and familiar house elf… "Dobby?"

(Daphne P.O.V)

Daphne rocked herself gently on her bed in the empty Slytherin Dormitory. Though her stomach rumbled, she felt no desire to eat. In fact, Daphne had been living in a state of constant nausea, not just at the remorse she felt every time Harry's heart-broken face would flash into her mind, but the bloody mess that had been Astoria's weakened body that horrid night. Yes, Madam Pomfrey had worked miracles with Astoria, using up what she could only imagine had been all of Hogwarts' blood replenishing potions, but just because her sister was currently up and about didn't mean the situation had changed.

Her hands trembled as she read the pages of the journal that had all but encapsulated her life over the past days. The journal itself hadn't been in great condition when Harry had first gifted it to her, but now the pages had become more yellow and stained with watermarks, as yet another droplet fell from her cheek onto the page. Furiously, she wiped her red eyes, I'm fine, she cursed to herself, I don't need anyone, I'm the Ice Queen for Merlin's Sake, I don't need Harry. It hadn't taken long for the truth in her heart to fight back as the word liar raced around her mind. I just need to save Astoria, she's all I have left, she's all that matters.

A loud pop soon filled the air, and Daphne leapt in fear, her quiet violently interrupted as her eyes scanned the room for the source of the disturbance. The search hadn't taken long as her floppy eared caretaker had popped into the dormitory, a book bag that looked just about ready to burst strapped over his shoulder, and in his hand rested a plate consisting of a chocolate chip muffin and a cup of hot cinnamon tea. "Dobby has returned with the items that Mistress ordered Dobby to find. Dobby doesn't like stealing from scary Professor Snape's stores, but Dobby did as he was told."

Daphne eyed the elf sympathetically, "I know Dobby, I'm sorry for asking you to do that, but you know it was urgent."

"If Dobby can speak freely," The elf said with a squeaky voice, "Dobby doesn't like what Mistress Greeny has been reading. Dobby doesn't like it one bit. Dobby would rather have Mistress Greeny eat his muffin and tea that read that terrible, terrible, book."

"I'm not hungry Dobby," Daphne lied, a sad smile resting on her face, "But thank you for thinking about me." The tennis ball eyes of her elf still rested firmly upon her, she knew full well that Dobby wanted more answers, but she couldn't afford to give it to the elf. "That's all Dobby, you're free to go-"

"Will Mistress Greeny at least drink a little bit of her tea and stop reading the-,"

"I said that's enough Dobby!" Daphne shouted her anger boiling over, yet as she watched the sinking facial expression of her only loyal company throughout the recent tragedy, she instantly lunged forward hugging the elf, "Sorry Dobby," She whispered, "I didn't mean to yell. I just- I need this book, I need to save my sister. No matter the cost." The hurt on the tiny elf's face had become too hard for Daphne to bear as she took the bag from the elf's hand. "Dobby, don't tell anyone about this, I'll be back soon."

But Dobby didn't respond, the elf had simply nodded his head and slumped on the ground his eyes full of defeat. Dobby, Astoria, Harry, please forgive me. The thoughts of those she loved continued to fill her mind as she climbed the winding staircases towards the off-limits bathroom that was guarded by the ghost of Moaning Myrtle. She had figured it was a place that nobody would come looking for her and she'd be able to work in peace, and had Harry decided to look for her on the map, there wouldn't be anything odd about a girl being in the girl's bathroom.

As Daphne pulled into the bathroom, the supplies banging gently in her back, she quickly got down towards the cauldron she'd placed in the room yesterday and lit the fire. She had wasted no time as she pulled the decrypted potion instructions from her bag, as well as the material. "Okay," she stated aloud, "First, I need to add the sloth brain fluid, into a boiling infusion of wormwood. After that, I need two bushels of fermented knotgrass. Then a drop of basilisk poison reduced with phoenix tears," She shook her head in amazement, "It's almost unbelievable the castle has these things."

"Then-"

"Then you're going to need to wait three days, stirring hourly until the substance becomes a paste." Daphne jumped at the familiar voice that called out to her from the shadows. She hopped to her feet turning slowly and finding nobody other than Harry James Potter. "Daphne, what are you doing?"

"How did you-"

"Dobby told me," Harry said softly a gentle smile on his face, "Plus I read your mind. You can't seriously be thinking of doing what I think you're doing, are you?"

"What I'm doing is none of your business," Daphne snipped back, turning away from him only to feel his hand resting gently on her shoulder.

"If you're thinking of exchanging the curse Astoria has to you, I can't let you go through with it." Harry sighed heavily, "She wouldn't want that."

"How would you know what she wants," Daphne barked back, "You haven't talked to her in days!"

"I was being an idiot, both of us were," Harry replied, turning her around. "We're hurting Astoria, Daphne. That's something we both didn't want to do, and unfortunately, we both fell into the same trap. In fact, she really let me have it in the common room a few minutes ago."

"Harry," Daphne replied, her voice trembling, "I can't let her die. She's all I have left. I just can't. Please don't ask me to."

Daphne hadn't even a moment to breathe before Harry's arms wrapped around her, "I promise you, I won't let Astoria die. I don't care if I have to spend every waking moment helping you look for a solution, we will find one." Daphne's lips began to tremble, "I'm sorry I walked away from you when you needed me most. I was just so angry that you hid something so important from me, but Astoria told me why you did it. Plus, I was being a hypocrite, Moody actually pointed that out to me earlier today, I haven't been being completely honest with you either. But I don't want to keep lying to you anymore, so I want you to listen."

"What secret?" Daphne said, tears streaming down her eyes as she hugged Harry, inhaling his Cedar and Green Apple scent, a scent she'd been missing for far too long.

"I haven't been training you guys to fight with me, in fact, I never really had any intention of all of us taking down Voldemort together." Daphne had felt her body tremble in Harry's arms as she looked up at him in confusion. "Shortly before I was born, there was a prophecy, about him and I. There's a lot of fluff in it really, but the point of it is that he and I, we're destined to fight one day, and during that fight, one of us is going to die."

"Harry, please, tell me this is some kind of joke. I can't lose you too, I just-," Daphne started but was silenced as her boyfriend's arms held her tightly.

"It's not a joke, and honestly, I wasn't always so sure I'd be strong enough to win. In reality, I'm still not too sure," Harry said. "But if I do stand a chance, it's because I have something worth fighting for, that's something Voldemort doesn't have. But that thing, it's not the wizarding world, I don't give a damn about these random people that look up to me as some hero one day and turn their back on me the next. I care about Sirius, Remus, Andy, Tonks, Astoria, and Michael, and Neville… I care about you."

"If you throw your life away," Harry said with a gentle pause, "I don't know if I want to win anymore. If I can't save the people I care about, I'm not sure I could keep fighting. I need you, Daphne Greengrass. But I don't need this girl who isn't thinking straight, the girl who's actually considering sacrificing her own life on the word of some evil wizard. I need my level headed princess who never lets the world know that the sky is falling. The girl that can keep calm no matter what. The girl that can be my compass when I feel lost. That's who I need if I stand a chance at winning this fight."

"I'm sorry," Daphne said, tightening her grasp around Harry, "I'm sorry for shouting at you, I'm sorry for avoiding you, I'm sorry for abandoning you when you needed me too. I'm so-"

She was stopped however by the familiar yet lost sensation of Harry's lips pressing against hers, "It's okay Princess, we'll get through this, through all of this, together."

"Together," Daphne said with a nod, the pounding in her chest calming in the warmth of Harry's embrace. "Thank you Flyboy, for everything."

"Always, Princess," Harry said softly, "Always. Now," he said, Daphne finally feeling some joy as Harry cupped her face, "Let's go see Astoria. I think we've kept her waiting long enough."