A/N Missed Friday upload date, can only apologise! Longest chapter yet, hope that makes up for it. Also I'm drunk when uploading this.

"Utterly stupid..." Ginny said in a hollow voice. "No Seeker or Beater for the last match of the year... I cannot believe we're going to lose to Slytherin..."

These were the first words spoken after he had delivered the grave news, ten minutes ago. He'd just finished his meeting with Professor McGonagall where she had informed him that because of his duel with Malfoy, he was suspended from the next Quidditch match. No such news had reached his ears if the same had happened to Malfoy, but he very much doubted it. Ron also had been temporarily taken from the team on the basis of his accident, despite the match still being a way off and him already almost being back to normal.

Harry was thinking furiously. Everywhere he looked he saw naught but disconsolate and angry faces. The team around the Gryffindor table was composed of himself and Ginny, Katie Bell and their new chaser, Nadia Khanna. It was everyone aside from their Beaters, Demelza Robins and Dean Thomas, of whom Harry was not looking forward to having to repeat the bad news to, and Ron, who was still in the hospital wing. Hermione also lingered on for moral support.

For a second, he hesitated to say anything more. Baring Ginny, he typically liked his professional life separate from his Quidditch, so confidining in the girls before him did not come with a load of confidence. But on the second examination, he was decided. He was simply unable to keep his thoughts to himself; he had to give justification to his actions. It was a life-and-death matter and he would risk the worry of being laughed at.

"Malfoy nearly killed Ron, I couldn't not do anything…"

Hermione looked at him cautiously

"Harry…"

But his proclamation had already drawn the attention of Katie and Nadia.

"He poisoned them?" Katie asked.

The news about what happened to Ron and Tracey had broken to the rest of the school and, though details were vague, it was the general consensus that it had been a targeted attack against the two of them.

"Why hasn't he been taken to Azkaban?" asked Nadia, also interested.

Harry felt suddenly on the spot about how to respond. His mind failed him on how to update two girls, both of which had stayed relatively away from his usual drama, on over a year's worth of context. Hermione meanwhile, looked like she was trying to inch away from him out of embarrassment.

"It's... " he said slowly," … well, we know someone has to have done it, and he has the most reason…"

"So he's in Auror custody, then?" Katie asked.

Harry chewed his lip, knowing what was next.

"No… he isn't."

For a second, he worried how they would react. He wasn't used to having his opinion challenged and made the fool of in front of the team. Would they trust his judgement as captain, or roll their eyes and call him paranoid? When they did decide on their emotions, they seemed split down the middle. Nadia leaned in, looking interested, while Katie scrunched up her face like she had misheard him. As Nadia opened her mouth, looking like she was about to say something important, he cut her off.

"Don't ask me why. I don't know."

Finally, it seemed Hermione could not hold her tongue any longer.

"Because they don't have enough evidence Malfoy was behind it," she interjected. "And frankly, any evidence there could have been will be covered up by now."

Though he shot her a warning glance, she carried on.

"I'm not saying it wasn't him, Harry! I'm saying you can't just go charging around bullheaded like that! What good has it actually gotten you? There's a right and wrong way to deal with this kind of thing and publicly accusing people and attacking them in the corridor is not the way to do it! Neither is dragging other people into it!"

Although angry, he wished he could disagree. Malfoy was still free to roam around and the only real repercussions were felt by his teammates, who would now suffer defeat at the hands of Slytherin.

"You sound like Sirius," he scolded her.

"Then Sirius is right."

A glare of pure hatred bubbled from somewhere inside him. Why was his judgement suddenly questioned now? Had he not proven himself over the years? Not even a year ago, he had similar suspicions about Daphne that had been proven right, had he not earned himself a little good faith?

He was willing to accept that he had acted rash and without broader judgment, but if others were on his side, his actions wouldn't have been necessary in the first place. He did what he did because nobody else was doing anything. Hermione and Sirius could say they believed him as much as they wanted, but believing him was only worth so much when there was important action needing to be taken. And when the lives of people he cared about were on the line, he refused to sit down and wait for the worst to happen.

Irritated, and feeling more than a little spiteful, he locked eyes with Katie across the table.

"... and I bet he was the one behind your curse."

She did not appreciate him bringing this up. In fact, there had been a general consensus among the team never to so much as acknowledge the whole ordeal had happened, as Katie seemed ashamed with herself over it. Both Hermione and Nadia shot him furious glares of warning, but he pushed quickly through them.

Nadia rose her fork threateningly at him.

"Mate, leave it out."

"We saw him in Borgin and Burkes at the start of the year - that's the same place that necklace was from!" he carried on. "You and Ron both have me in common, we all know he's had it out for me for years! He tried getting you to give me the cursed necklace, and he tried poisoning me!"

Hermione chimed in a second later with a cry of frustration.

"The poison was not meant for you! It was meant for Slughorn, Harry!"

It was only his want not to cause a scene that stopped him shouting back. Her shrill cry had drawn the attention of a few Gryffindor members of the table. Even Ginny, who had all but ascended to the ethereal realm way, looked suddenly back in the room.

Seeing him silenced, Hermione wound back in for another go.

"Look - yes! We can sit here and get ourselves all worked by continuing to speculate and then do something utterly stupid again, or we can try and focus on the problem at hand!"

He frowned at her.

"Which is?"

"We should…"

She gave a sigh so hard and so harsh that it sounded like someone had struck her in the back with a knife.

" ...figure out... what the plan is for the Quidditch team…"

He deadpanned at her.

"Are you serious?"

She gave him a pained look and he understood.

Though it justified his anger more not to notice it, somewhere along the line he could sense she was on his side. The way she said it made it obvious. She agreed with him, just not the approach he was taking. She now knew Malfoy was a problem as much as he did, but for the sake of all of them, was trying to force calmness. He acknowledged that, but in his current mindset, didn't much appreciate it.

Reluctantly, and pulling profound effort out of god knows where, he gave up.

"Bloody wonderful. Fantastic. Amazing."

The mood on the table was truly abysmal. Any chance of salvation was gone the second he had opened his mouth. Minutes past and reluctantly, everyone decided to start on breakfast. Harry didn't feel like eating anything. He felt that, perhaps if it did, it would immediately faze through him and drop to the floor.

It was the source of abundant annoyance to him that, in such a short time, everything had gone so irreparably wrong in his world. And though he had Hermione and Sirius talking good sense to him in one ear, the other one couldn't hear anyone else responsible for it than Draco Malfoy. He felt empty, cold and useless. No matter what he did, any action by him resulted in making things worse. He couldn't have just put his faith in Sirius and Tonks, could he? It wasn't enough he'd dragged Daphne into this dangerous world - he had to go beyond that and make other innocents suffer for his, as Hermione put it, bullheadedness.

The mood surrounding them wasn't McGonagall or Malfoy's fault - it was his.

"Ginny, couldn't you always play seeker?"

Hermione asked this after everyone had long since zoned out. It took Ginny a long time to realise the question was directed at her, and when that finally occurred, she frowned something ugly.

"No, really!"

She was speaking in that horrifically forced voice Harry had become so well accustomed to in their latter years of Hogwarts.

"I've seen you in practise and you're really good at it! You're not Harry, obviously - no offence - but you're the best other option!"

Ginny, who looked surprised, and more than a little intimidated by the prospect, shook her head.

"If I'm Seeker, who will be Chaser?"

The question wasn't to her, but to the group as a whole. That meant she wasn't saying no to filling in for him, Harry noticed. He leaned in, interested. Katie was the one to answer and, like Hermione, she looked uncomfortable, but positive.

"We have reserve Chasers... But no reserve Seekers. It could work."

He had known Ginny to be a no-nonsense kind of girl, and especially so when it came to Qudditch. Which made her response as she saw him, Katie, Nadia and Hermione all nodding enthusiastically back at her, all that more surprising.

"Right. First match where I'm Seeker, and it's only for the bloody Quidditch Cup! Even Better!"

She hissed as she spoke and abandoning her breakfast, she stood up and marched away from them. Nadia sagged against the dining table, but Hermione rounded on her, keeping up her force enthusiasm.

"She didn't say no, she's just nervous, is all! You know how good she is! And at least this way you'll still qualify!"

The mood, though still sour, suddenly had a glimmer of hope. That did seem to be the universal agreement. At least this way, even if the last minute rearranging of the team did still result in a humiliating failure, they at least stood a fighting chance. So long as they still qualified for the match, that would be enough.

That should have done a lot for improving Harry's mood, but his mind wasn't with Qudditch anymore. As Ginny marched away, he saw another familiar face. The alarming thing was, it was making no deviations or delay, and was heading straight for him.

Oblivious to the quite hardened glare he was giving her, Daphne came to a stop by the Gryffindor table.

"We need to talk."

He could do little other than blink back.

That was usually the lead-in line to a breakup, he knew, or the prelude to a big argument. And the aura she brought with her was threatening. She spoke so robotically, it was as if unaware of the dozens of eyes being drawn their way - apparently, no one was in a hurry to forget she had betrayed Dumbledore's Army to Umbridge, or how Harry himself had turned up with a broken nose after talking to her last term. Katie and Nadia sized themselves up, looking not unlike female lions protecting their cubs.

"Is this the place?" he asked incredulously.

Daphne took a slow look over the rest of the table, who were all staring in amazement at her. With a flick of her hair she gestured out of the Great Hall, signalling him to leave with her. Nadia closed in beside him.

"Anything you wanna say to Harry, you can say in front of us."

Daphne wheeled back around, her eyes snapping from head to head to see who had spoken out.

"I am a Prefect and I can talk to whoever I want!"

He was on his feet in a flash. He grabbed her lower back and pulled her quite suddenly away from the table. He shouted back to them, not stopping to gauge any reactions.

"You guys figure something out, tell me about it! See you at practise!"

Thankfully, Daphne carried on down the aisle without resistance. He leaned in to her, his smile fading.

"The bloody hell are you playing at?"

She gave a hollow scoff.

"Let them gawk. Get over it. I certainly am."

Up ahead, there was a chorus of girlish laughter and shrieks from the Slytherin table. He realised his hand was still on her lower back and dropped it abruptly. The ruckus had caught Daphne's attention too and she turned towards them.

Harry didn't know what was about to happen, but he was sure it was going to be embarrassing for him.

Though most fell silent, she came to an abrupt halt in front of a pair of still-sniggering Slytherin girls. He didn't recognise most of the group and he didn't see anything of Pansy or Millicent, which made him think this was a group of younger students. Though on second glance, he was able to vaguely recognised the giggling girls as the same ones that catcalled Daphne as they were studying together last year

"What is funny?"

The girls finally stopped jeering, but kept their cat-like grins.

"Ooooh, nothing, babe!" one of them cooed.

She gave them a long, hard stare, which only seemed to broaden their smiles.

"Ten points from Slytherin."

The two let out a cry of disbelief. She turned and continued her march out of the Great Hall. Harry and the girls were left staring at each other, flabbergasted.

"Daphne!"

He took off in a light jog to catch up with her, further dragging even more looks their way. By the time they had left the Great Hall together, he wouldn't be surprised if every one of its occupants had seen them and, knowing Hogwarts, was currently theorising about what new drama was going on between them. In other words, a complete and total reversal of everything they had been working towards.

But for whatever reason, Daphne did not seem bothered by this. It made it so that, when she dragged him to the same corner of the entrance hall they had met in before their date, he fell deathly silent. He understood the concept of urgency, and so wanted desperately to hear what was so important she would trade everything they had worked towards in exchange for it. And, he wanted to be sure of her reasoning before shouting at her.

"Have you gotten that memory from Professor Slughorn yet?"

Those words stopped him in his tracks. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been that. The urgency of the situation made him think someone had died, or there had been a major development with her Death Eater status. And also, correct him if he was wrong, but that was the first time he'd heard her call him Professor Slughorn. He didn't know why this was, until remembering that she had gotten into the habit of referring to him by his first name only. Had the experience the other night affected the way she felt towards him, perhaps?

"No, I haven't..." he said finally.

"What is your plan?"

He felt very out of depth. The vigour she spoke with, it was obvious they were not on the same page about something. He was afraid something had happened he had missed out on and raked his memory of recent events for something that could have sparked this sudden interest.

"What's... going on... ?"

When her demeanour didn't change, he knew all too well to reformulate that answer into something she wanted or he'd regret it.

"No, I haven't. Not exactly," he started again. "I've been waiting for the right time to bring it up, last time I did, see, he didn't really respond well…"

For a second, she looked to be thinking hard about something. Then, nodded abruptly.

"This evening are you doing anything?"

He attempted to gesture vaguely back to the Great Hall.

"I need to help the team, the Quidditch cup is soon and we're against Slytherin, they won't let me pla-"

"Cancel it. We'll get the memory off Professor Slughorn together."

His mouth dropped limply open.

"I can't just cancel, Ginny is playing replacement Seeker and-"

"Meet back here during tea. Bring that invisibility cloak of yours, as a precaution."

Harry stared at her, lost for words.

She wasn't asking him this - she was telling him.

Where had this sudden change of mood come from? She wasn't usually this… this… Ice Queeny. Not with him anymore, at least. This was more akin to the Daphne he'd worked with in Potions at the start of last year than anything he'd come to expect recently.

Something was going on, that much was apparent, but he didn't feel a corner of the entrance hall was the correct place to discuss it. So, reluctantly, he agreed wholly to her conditions.

"Good. We'll go tonight and… see what happens."

"See what happens?" he repeated.

She nodded, looking fully aware she wasn't giving him the answer he wanted.

"I have ideas."

A half day meant only one lesson that afternoon. That was normally a relief, but throughout Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lecture, Harry's mind was deeply clouded by Daphne's behaviour.

If he had approached her like that at the Slytherin table, he'd never hear the end of it. And where had this sudden interest in the mission Dumbledore had set him come from? She seemed more enthusiastic to get it done than he ever had. It was enough to take his mind - for the time being, anyway - completely away from Draco Malfoy. And made a much more apt replacement to worry about Qudditch than did, to say the least.

Her strange development aside, the more he thought of it, the more positive he grew. Pursuing Slughorn was a duty he'd been neglecting in light of other things for a while, so it filled him with reassurance to be back on track - even if it was strange circumstances that led him there. He was still none the wiser about how he was going to get it, but he trusted in Daphne's social engineering ability and was confident that, between the two of them, tonight would be the night.

When time for tea came, he found himself avoiding entering the Great Hall. His intrigue about tonight had been that strong, he didn't want to do anything else other than meet her right away. The entrance hall was now dark, light only by torchlight and the overpowering sound of laughter and the sweet scent of whatever the House Elves had prepared was making him reconsider his judgement of arriving early.

"Oi, Harry!"

He'd wound up in a world of his own and was shocked to see Hermione and Ron, who was now out of the hospital wing, before him.

"Ron!"

The two cheered and crashed into one another in a manly embrace. Of course, they had seen each other in the Hospital Wing, but the principle of him finally being released demanded a big deal be made of it.

Ron's accidental breakup with Lavender had been conveniently absent from conversations they had while he was in the Hospital Wing. With the new context, he had watched them both a little more closely during these visits, but they did not seem any different with each other, except maybe being a little politer than usual. Harry supposed he would have to wait for him to be released to see if it would have any impact on their lives - and exactly that was what happened.

Their embrace broken, Ron returned back to his place by Hermione, who then, as though hoping if she did it slowly enough then Harry wouldn't notice, she snaked her fingers through his.

But Harry did notice. And he grinned. It was obvious they fancied each other for a while - but that was seemingly to everyone but themselves. Ginny thought it was never going to happen, but he had an inkling that it would sooner or later.

Initially, he had been unsure how to feel about it. Though he and Cho were not necessarily on bad terms anymore, they never so much as looked at each other these days, never mind talking anymore. The thought had occurred to him, what if Ron and Hermione started going out together, then split up? Would their friendship survive it? He remembered the few weeks they hadn't been talking in the third year and how much he hadn't enjoyed trying to bridge the distance between them. And then, what if they didn't split up? What if they became like Bill and Fleur and it became excruciatingly embarrassing to be in their presence?

But those fears, now that he saw them in front of him, were naught.

Hermione had obviously tried to make their new status as subtle a reveal as possible, probably in hopes he wouldn't mention. But, feeling suddenly ecstatic and more than a little cheeky, he decided to do exactly that.

"You two seem to have worked things out."

His smug grin was met by her turning scarlet and Ron grinning ear to ear.

"You're… okay with it, aren't you?" she asked cautiously.

He could sense she was genuinely worried about what he would say or do. To remedy this, he gave them both the biggest, happiest grin he'd ever managed in his entire life.

"Absolutely."

Hermione gave a subtle, but very enthusiastic smile, then quickly regained her composure. She gestured to the Great Hall.

"Are you coming in?"

He wanted to, but decided good things came in small packages. He would let them have tonight absent of worry of the larger picture, as he and Daphne had attempted a week earlier.

"Meeting Daphne, actually," he smiled harder. "Wouldn't want to interrupt you two."

Ron nodded and led Hermione away, who was still blushing. She smiled appreciatively as they departed. Again, he had a sudden feeling that everything was going to work out. He didn't know how long passed of him smiling witlessly into the void, just that he jumped when he was next interrupted.

"Hope that smiles for me?"

Again his senses had again betrayed and he'd completely missed Daphne appearing from the dungeons, crossing the Entrance Hall and stopping in front of him.

"Oh! Nothing, just…"

But, his euphoria carried him the rest of the way and he decided to share his feelings of a world he liked to keep separate.

"Ron and Hermione are together."

Daphne considered this. An expression of consideration appeared on her face, as though concept of romance was unknown to her. Then, with a neutral smile, she nodded.

"Good for them. Are you ready?"

She had brushed past it a little quicker than he would have liked, but riding the positivity sweeping through his system, he agreed.

They departed to the dungeons together. The halls were empty for the most part, but even if they weren't, Daphne did not seem to have a single qualm about them being seen together. His curiosity reached it's breaking point, and as they started down the long staircase to the dungeons, he pulled her on it.

"What's going on?"

She gave him the briefest glance, done more for principal than anything else. When she answered, she avoided eye contact with him.

"We need to get a move on before Draco does. This is important. Now, if asking Professor Slughorn nicely doesn't work, what are you planning?"

Her transparency avoiding the subject was so un-subtle - he almost respected it. He gave a vague shrug.

"I've been thinking about it, if you'll hear my plan?" she asked.

"'Course…"

Though they were alone on the stone steps, her voice dropped dramatically.

"We go to his study and ask to be invited in, under the guise of wanting to clear the air over what happened. I imagine he'll jump at the chance to clear his name and get back in our good books. Once in, we'll share a few drinks and when he is nice and drunk with his guard down, you strike him with the confundus charm..."

"What!?"

"Well - you're better at offensive spells than I am," she brushed passed, as though she hadn't just casually recommended attacking a teacher. "Then, after we extract what we need from his memory, I'll perform the Obliviate charm so he forgets everything we-"

Choking, and feeling as though Hermione had suddenly possessed him, he stopped her.

"Daphne, stop. We're not attacking anyone."

She went silent, looking at him as though he'd just said something quite insulting to her. He made to remedy this.

"It wouldn't work, anyway. Dumbledore was specific, he needs to transfer the memory willingly."

Annoyance took her face and she retreated into the highly concentrated state he'd often seen her do. He could practically see the gears turning importantly behind her eyes.

"Willingingly…" she mumbled to herself.

Then, she said something that shocked him so much, it turned his blood an icy cold.

"So…" she eased out, cautiously,"... the Imperius curse wouldn't work, then?"

He slowed his pace, determined to have misheard her.

"Oh, please, do not look at me like that!"

He was caught off guard by the suddenly venomous glare being sent his way. She was looking at him as though he had been the one to just suggest using an unforgivable curse. He spluttered through his defences to say something.

"Like w-what?"

She was finally making eye contact - now he was the one trying to avoid it.

"Like you're better than me! Look - you wanted me on your side and here I am! I betrayed everything I was brought up on for this cause and I will do what needs to be done for the greater good. Otherwise, all the stupid problems we've caused for ourselves have been for nothing."

"We're not bloody Death Eaters, though! We don't do that! You don't do that!"

He got the feeling that came out wrong, because she fixed him with an icy stare. Then the corners of her lips turned slightly, like she was trying to explain to a child that two plus two made four.

"Being me hasn't exactly done us any favours in the past. We are at war, Harry, it isn't meant to be nice. The only way stuff gets accomplished is by making the tough decisions. Every day we delay because we're too busy being nice is a day that The Dark Lord is moving against us. Pieces can be put back together later, but salvation isn't an option for dead people. You and I know that all too well."

There was a violent, sickening churning in his gut. The elation he felt from Ron and Hermione's development was leaving him like he was a balloon with a puncture. She turned away from him, as if uncertain whether or not to continue or not.

"Victory is as easy as we make it."

Stunned by the verbal assault, he could do nothing but remain quiet in its wake. It was the same all-or-nothing attitude she had about revision and assignments, but hearing her apply it to people, as though they were merely obstacles they needed to overcome… For the first time, he could see the woman before him as a Death Eater. There were a thousand things he felt he should be saying in response, but he was too mixed up to say any of it.

Maybe it was that he'd gotten so used to the opposite - for the longest time her only real involvement with him and the Order was trying to keep her safe - that actually seeing her on their side and ready to apply herself to the fight… Was it his fault for setting false expectations, or had he again gotten caught up in the romanticism of them?

Having delivered her speech, she cleared her throat. Their conversation was clearly over. Neither of them said anything for a while, but carried on walking. He searched for something to say, something to break the air of conflict, but his words failed him.

"... and I wasn't saying we should, I was considering it as an option…" she followed up, "... and it doesn't seem to be a valid one…"

It seemed a small part of her recognised she had gone too far. She sounded tired, or frustrated, he couldn't tell which. Though he didn't know how he felt, whether he was angry or applauded, he could at least respect the attempt at fixing things.

"Let's just…" he forced out, "... go to him, and see what happens, yeah?"

"See what happens?" she repeated incredulously.

"Yes," he said forcefully.

Harry had kept an eye out to try specifically to try and spot Slughorn heading into the Great Hall, and had seen neither head nor tail of him. Which confused him, as when the two arrived in the cold dungeon corridor and knocked, they had no response.

Daphne looked far more troubled by this than she should have been.

"He could still be having tea?" he suggested.

She shook her head.

"I placed an alert charm over the dungeons. He hasn't left them since dinner."

He frowned.

"Bit overkill?"

"Shut up. I set an enchantment over the dungeons. If he left to go anywhere else in the castle I'd have known about it..."

He looked around uselessly, fearing another Daphne tantrum coming on.

"He could have used a different exit? Don't the dungeons also lead out to the boat house and the greenhouses?"

She seemed absolutely revolted by this suggestion.

"I mean - yes - but why in Merlin's name would he go out either of those exits?"

He didn't know what was going on tonight, but it was clear he wouldn't be able to decipher any of it with her behaving like this. He didn't know if this was just her in a foul mood, her time of the month, or if she was simply trying to prove a point to him.

And then, all at once, a solution came to him in a glorious stroke of inspiration.

"I've got an idea!"

"What is it?"

Before he knew it, he was sprinting back through the dungeons the way he came, sheer excitement stretched across his face.

"I need to go to Gryffindor Tower. Will you come with me?"

Daphne jogged to keep up with him. She didn't share his enthusiasm, but was listening intently to him.

"What for?"

"I need to get something."

Daphne felt an annoyed jolt in her gut as he returned down the staircase, smiling broadly. The warm glow that normally flared inside her at the sight of him was extinguished by an icy pit in her stomach. His whole attitude about tonight was inappropriate - it was as though he didn't understand how important the job they had on their hands were.

"Well?" she asked, sincerely hoping his apparent arrogance had cause behind it.

He extracted a tiny, gleaming bottle from inside his robes.

"This'll help us find him and get that memory."

Though she did not recognise it immediately, slowly, the memory of their first Potions lesson with Horace returned to her.

"Felix Felicis?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Imaginary images hovered on the edges of her imagination; vague and unformulated plans involving her being extricated from the Death Eaters free of punishment, Astoria's miraculous recovery from her blood curse and, most impossible, was her father embracing Harry as his son-in-law. The benefits she could gain from having a potion like that in her life - how hadn't she thought of it before?

"Well, here goes!"

He raised the little bottle and took all the liquid in one big gulp.

He did not do anything for a moment. Then, it looked like he was subject to an exhilarating rush sweeping through his system, not unlike he had just taken a shot of very pungent alcohol. He held himself more strongly, smiling, shining with confidence.

She stared blankly back at him.

"Why did you down the whole thing?" she asked, disparagingly, "I would have quite liked some too."

"I'll brew you some!"

Apparently the potion was having its effect already, because as she went to slap him for that, he quickly ducked out of her range. In fact, now that he was slightly further away and she was able to look at him properly… She suddenly wasn't as mad about his attitude. Had the potion also made him more good looking, as well?

Her heart did a little flutter as he reapproached her.

"Lets go to Hagrids!"

She did a double-take.

"I beg your pardon?"

He scooped her under his shoulder and began leading them towards the castles exit without second thought.

"Hagrid? Big bloke? Looks like he's covered in face in glue and headbutted a yeti?"

He gestured comedically to his jawline. She did not laugh.

"I know very well who he is, I would just like to know why you think it's appropriate we visit him now!?"

"Dunno."

"You 'dunno'!?" she repeated.

"Dunno! Just got a good feeling about Hagrids!"

"We're meant to be finding Horace! Professor Horace! Slughorn - UGH! - Professor Slughorn!"

Though she was not sure her annoyance had completely dissipated just yet; her thirst to get on with tonight's task stopped her fighting him.

In fact, her shoulder fitted quite neatly into the armpit of his robes. Having rarely the chance to venture anywhere together, this was not something they'd discovered before. Considering she'd spent the past five years at Hogwarts working out in her spare time, she was impressed he was able to make her feel so small. And comfortable, as well.

He caught her staring up at him. There was something very hypnotic about the goofy grin plastered across his face. Normally, it held her attention well, but now she was doing all in her power to resist kissing it. She eased slowly into him, allowing herself to enjoy the sensation. It was nice while it lasted, before hushed whispers caught her attention and she turned to see a pair of Hufflepuff girls pointing at them. All at once, her feelings of jubilation vanished. She wrestled her way out from under his arm, her cheeks flushed.

Though it was his idea they were to visit their Care of Magical Creatures Professor, as soon as they had ventured out into the dusky grounds, he took a rather abrupt turning towards the Herbology Greenhouses instead.

"Where are you going now?"

"Hagrids! I know a shortcut!"

But he was wrong - there was no shortcut this way. In fact, having attended Hogwarts for over five years, Daphne happened to know the greenhouses and the Forbidden Forest were in complete opposite directions of one another. But Harry seemed oblivious of this logic, and sprung forward merrily, a certain spring in his step that for reasons unknown, angered her beyond belief.

Now they were not physically joined, she found it difficult to keep up to his pace.

"Will you slow down!?" she barked after him.

At this point Harry had started humming so loudly, he probably hadn't heard her.

She swore under her breath. Was it Liquid Luck he had taken, or several shots of fire whiskey?

Up ahead, there was a ripple of a shadow in the steamy panes of the greenhouse. She blinked to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her - and confirmed that it was indeed, Professor Horace Slughorn before them. He was leaning through a glass pane, hunching over a venomous tentacula, who seemed very unhappy with him messing with it.

Unsure as to how exactly Harry could have known this, she turned to him, but he moved quickly past her slipping stealthily into the window with him.

"Hi, Professor!"

The Professor jumped so hard, his head banged against the glass pane above them. A loud clunk reverberated throughout the greenhouse.

"MERLIN'S BEARD!"

Harry's good mood was completely unfazed.

"Sorry, sir! I should've announced myself! Cleared my throat! Coughed! You probably feared I was Madam Sprout!"

"Well, yes, actually -"

He looked at him with a paranoid eye, then briefly noticed her presence as well. He cocked his head, studying the area suspiciously.

"Why… Why ever would you think that?"

"Just the general behaviour, sir! The sneaking around! The jumping when you saw me! By the way, those tentacula leaves - they're quite valuable, aren't they?"

At this, she took a brief glance at the venomous tentacula herself, understanding at once what they had walked in on him doing - and she respected it. He gave a knowing smile.

"Why - ten galleons a leaf to the right buyer! Not that I'm familiar with such back alley transactions, of course… one hears rumours is all! My own interests are purely academic, of course!" his smile faulted a bit, "... How… How… How may I help you both?"

"Well you see Professor, Daphne and I were going on an evening stroll down to visit my friend Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor. Then we saw you and wondered if you would care to join us?"

"You… really shouldn't be out visiting friends at this time, my boy," he softly, looking over at the mass of black trees across the grounds. "It's nearly nightfall, surely you realise I can't in good faith condone you roaming the grounds at this time?"

"Daphne's a Prefect, aren't you, Daffy?"

She glared at his use of that nickname, then nodded proudly.

"I've condoned the visit, Professor."

He looked to be considering. His curiosity was evidently aroused by their sudden appearance, but he looked to be keeping his guard up.

"Well... well, I suppose one extra chaperone couldn't hurt..."

Harry beamed at him.

"Excellent!"

He sped them off across the grounds, delighted with himself. He hadn't waited for either of them, and after a shared look of bewilderment, they took off after him.

Leaving the greenhouses, they crossed out into the vast expanse of the grounds. The sun was low on the horizon. It was a tranquil scene. The contrasting colours of the greenery, the mountains and the black lake, all now with a vibrant purple hue coating them. There was a light breeze, gentle enough to keep them cool.

With him leading a few spaces ahead, Daphne took the opportunity to come closer to Horace

"Good to see you again, Daphne..." he said under his voice, "Don't tend to see much of your outside of lesson, anymore."

They both knew the reasons behind this, but she faked ignorance.

"Prefect duties combined with seven N.E.W.T classes are a difficult combination to manage."

He didn't seem entirely happy with that, and still looked distracted by her earlier referral to him as Professor. When he next spoke up, he was then addressing Harry as well as her.

"You know - I really didn't get to apologise for last week's incident! You should both know how deeply ashamed and... and regretful I am of the whole venture. I sincerely hope it hasn't affected your opinion of me! …Or, of our little club."

Harry gave a loud bark of a laughter, something that reminded her of Tracey.

"The poison? Completely forgotten about it! Haven't we, Daffy?"

It seemed there was a lot more he still had to say on the matter, but Harry wasn't sticking around to hear it. He was able to keep up such a pace that her thigh muscles were beginning to burn as they rubbed together. Horace frowned impatiently - then supported himself on her shoulder, huffing to catch his breath.

"He's quick, isn't he?"

She cast around for another change of subject, but was saved the necessity of finding one.

"Good heavens!" Horace exclaimed.

As the unlikely trio approached the Forbidden Forest, they stopped suddenly in a line. They had happened across something - the startling sight of an enormous dead spider. It lay on its back, its legs curled up above it in a tangled mess.

"Is that an actual acromantula?

"A dead one, I'd say, sir."

The sight of the corpse sent an unpleasant churning through Daphne. She had no problem with spiders or insects normally - a fact which had once surprised Tracey - but the unexpected sight of death had taken her quite aback.

The next sight to occur to them, was that of the solitary Care of Magical Creatures Professor nearby

"Merlin's Beard, Hagrid! How ever did you kill it?"

But as they approached, the half-giant gave a pitifully sob.

"Kill it? One of my oldest friends, that is!"

His eyes were puffy, red and swollen. He looked to have fashioned himself a black armband out of what seemed to be a dirty rag dipped in boot polish. It came as no surprise to her that Rubeus Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures Professor with a renowned for his fondness of dangerous creatures, had a friend acromantula.

Horace gaped, but Professor Hagrid waved at him sullenly.

"Ah, don' worry yerself. Yer not alone. Seriously misunderstood creatures spiders are! The eyes, ah reckon. Unnerve people. Thank yer both fer comin'..."

He trailed off and did a double take. At this moment, he seemed to have noticed her presence. She felt very tiny under his gaze, and moved to place Harry between them.

"Thank all of yer her comin', 'should say."

"I wouldn't want to be indelicate, but Acromantula venom is uncommonly rare and, well, if you wouldn't mind extracting a vial or two - purely for academic pursuits…"

She knew exactly what his academic pursuits were, and the very thought made Daphne's insides burn with anger. How disrespectful would he be, just to make a profit? She didn't know how badly this request would be taken and moved herself clear as a precaution, but then to her surprise, he nodded.

"Don' suppose it's doin' 'im any good, izzit?" he cried.

"My thoughts exactly!" Horace beamed.

He rummaged quickly about his pockets, then extracted a small collection of mismatched vials.

"Always carry a few spare for just such occasions! Old Potion Master's habit, you know…"

Wobbling, he scrambled to get close to the acromantula through its mass of stiff, hairy legs. The trio watched him struggle, making no effort to assist him in his efforts.

"Wish yeh coulda seen 'im in 'is prime! Magnificent 'e was! Jus' magnificent…"

Between cries, the rugged Professor took a blanket-sized handkerchief out of his coat and snorted loudly into it. The force of the blow was enough to brush a strand of hair from Daphne's eyes.

Horace looked up, studied the half-giants expression with what appeared to be empathy - but could just have easily been confusion - and stepped away from the beast.

"Now - why don't I say a few nice words as we put him to rest?" he suggested.

Professor Hagrid nodded, looking both astonished and touched at the offer.

"Yes… yes, please…"

Horace cleared his throat. Harry nudged her. He gestured to her stance. She stood up straight and respectfully, though somewhat distracted by the fact he had so skilfully sank away, even she had somehow forgotten he was there.

"Farewell…"

He frowned.

"Aragog."

He nodded and began again, swapping into a distinguished speaking voice, reminding Daphne quite frighteningly of her father.

"Farewell, Aragog... Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun places of your forest home... May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained... Rest in peace, Aragog, King of the Arachnids!"

Professor Hagrid let loose a loud howl, causing an out-of-sight dog to begin barking.

"Tha was…tha was…beau'iful!" he bellowed.

Daphne stepped aside in fear of being crushed. Harry patted him consolingly on the elbow, which was the highest point of him he could reach. Then he wiped his eyes and stepped forward. He walked to Aragog and studied him lovingly, then put a shoulder to the big beast's body and sent it tumbling into the freshly dug grave adjacent with a sickening crunch.

"There, there," Horace soothed

He waved his wand so that the huge pile of earth beside them rose up and fell with a muffled crash, onto the dead spider, slowly forming a smooth mound.

"Lets get inside and have a drink, shall we? In memory?"

Finally, a step in the right direction. She shared a glance with Harry, who beamed back at her. He seemed to be thinking the same as her, though seemed infinitely more chuffed about it. They would still need to find some way of getting rid of Rubeus Hagrid - not a prospect anyone looked forward to - but they were definitely on the right track.

Though the Grounds Keepers hut had been a part of Hogwarts scenery since she her first year, this was the first time she'd ever been inside it. It looked - and smelled - exactly how she had imagined it. They deposited their weeping Professor into a chair at the table. A large boar hound had been skulking in it's basket as they entered, but now came padding across the wooden floor greet them. It put it's head in Harry's lap, while steering far away from Daphne.

Horace uncorked a bottle of wine that had appeared from somewhere.

"Given the circumstances, I feel it appropriate to reassure you that both myself and Professor Snape have tested this for poison," he reassured them.

He poured most of the bottle into one of the cabin's bucket-sized mugs and handed it to the half-giant.

"Had every bottle tested what happened to poor Rupert and Travis. One for Harry…" he continued, dividing a second bottle between two more mugs, "... one for Daphne…and one for me. Well!"— he raised his mug high — "to Aragog!"

"Aragog!" they said together.

It had occurred to Daphne how easily it would be for him to again attempt to poison them. And because of this, under the guise of reaching forward for a drinks mat, she accidentally brushed against a bottle and sent it crashing to the floor. It didn't smash on impact, but succeeded in making each member of the table leap to try and grab it. In that time, she swapped hers and Harry's glass with the two Professor's, then returned to her stool like nothing had happened.

"Whoopsie daisy! There we are!"

To her continued annoyance, Harry decided to join the Professors as they drank. She, however, understood the path ahead relied on them having clear and alert heads, so merely pretended to take a gulp.

"Ah had him from an egg, yeh know!" Professor Hagrid announced morosely. "'Tiny little thing he was when he hatched. 'Bout the size of a Pekingese! A Pekingese!"

"So sweet!" Horace cooed.

"Used ter keep him in a cupboard up at the school until…well…"

His face darkened and Daphne did not know why. Horace, however, did not seem to be listening; he was looking up at the ceiling, from which she spied a number of brass pots hanging, and also a long silky skein of white hair.

"Why - that's not unicorn hair, Hagrid?!"

He looked vaguely up at the area he gestured.

"Oh, yeah," he said indifferently. "Gets pulled out of their tails. They catch it on branches an' stuff in the forest, yeh know…"

Horace scoffed loudly.

"But my dear chap, do you know how much that's worth?"

"I use it fer bindin' on bandages an' stuff if a creature gets injured," he shrugged. "It's dead useful…very strong."

The ignorance did something to Horace, who took another deep draught from his mug, his eyes now moving carefully around the cabin. Daphne didn't blame him - now she joined in, what she had formerly regarded as useless nicknames and bits of wildlife was a treasure trove of rare creature-related items.

He refilled their mugs and then his own, and took to questioning about the other valuable creatures that lived in the forest and how to look after them all. It was enough for her to zone out of their conversation entirely before long. Not that she found Care of Magical Creatures boring, per say, but her concerns were more in the well-being of her own species, right now. Professor Hagrid, becoming bloated under the influence and Horace's flattering interest, stopped mopping his eyes and happily entered into a long explanation of bowtruckle husbandry.

It didn't seem they would be getting rid of him anytime soon. They would have to wait to make their move until a time after they had left the cabin, however long that may take.

"It's getting late," she reminded Harry, who has been listening to the Professors conversation with great interest.

He beamed at her, then gestured down to her jug.

"Then drink! We'll be here a while!"

Though she glared at him, he'd turned away quick enough not to have seen it.

She pouted. Truth be told, since raising the mug to her lips earlier, the scent of the wine had lingered in her taste buds.

As she swallowed, a shiver shot up her back. The wine had a very distinctive aftertaste. She breathed out, the fumes heavy in her nose. She couldn't remember if this was one of Horace or Professor Hagrid's, but considering the strength of it, thought it more likely of the latter.

Minutes passed as the two Professors continued their drunken ramblings, Daphne or Harry occasionally taking chances to jump in and contribute. Then slowly, as Daphne got progressively used to the texture of this new, half-giant wine, those minutes turned to hours. Shapes began to blur together and normally stationary objects were now starting to dance.

She was drunk in no time. And it was a remarkable time, at that. The only time she'd been this drunk this quickly was at Horace's Christmas party, and that time, she had helped herself to a good half a dozen of free glasses of wine. This occasion, however, she was barely at the bottom of her second jug. Whatever the wine was, it was damn-sight stronger than Ramiel Pure. She moved to get a better look at the label on the bottle - but caught Harry as he drew his wand. Hiding it under the table, he pointed it at the emptying bottles and without muttering a sound, the bottles began to refill. Daphne disguised gasp of surprised behind a cough, which went unnoticed. He grinned cheekily at her.

The potion was apparently working overtime with him tonight. Even she had only just began to master the basics of non-verbal magic.

There was a soft, barely audible breathing lingering in her ears. She turned suddenly, and was taken aback by his face now hovering mere millimetres from hers. The sudden jolt she gave caused their heads to collide with a harsh thud. The impact of our foreheads causes both of us to pull back and yelp in pain, though she sounded arguably more like a squeak toy than Harry did.

"Sorry! Sorry! I just... wanted to..."

He was leaning back in again. A heavenly urge was dragging her to meet him, but she resisted it. They had a mission to be getting on with... though if she was perfectly honest, she was a bit hazy on what exactly that mission had been.

Beside them, the two large men set about in a ruckus chuckle, signalling the end of another anecdote. Professor Hagrid took the break to excuse himself from the table and straighten himself up, then topped off everyone's mug with a bit more wine. Daphne brought her close... then, reluctantly, poured it into a plant pot by her feet.

"Sweet. I once had a fish. Francis. Lovely little thing..."

Horace continued, talking in a dreamy state from a conversation she hadn't been privy to.

"... One day I came downstairs and he'd vanished. Poof."

Professor Hagrid gave a large and animated frown, moving towards the cabin door.

"Tha's odd, innit!? Tell you wha' Ah'll be right back 'Orace, just nippin' out ta freshen up. Yer comin', Daphne?"

She flinched at the surprise mention of her name. She had no desire to be left alone with their gigantic Games Keeper, but one look at Harry told her to go with him. The prospect of leaving him alone with Horace was clearly another effect of the potion.

"Ah'll be gentle with 'er, don' you worry 'Arry!" he announced, standing back to let her pass through the door ahead of him.

The night air enveloped her. She gasped a refreshing breath of sober air, not realising how hot it had become in that hut with the four of them.

She walked across the freshly darkened garden toward an overgrown pumpkin patch, her chaperone waddling drunkenly by her side. She dared a glance up at him. Behind his wild mane of a beard he looked brutish and battle-scarred, very different from her usual kind of company. He was, as of course Daphne knew, a half-giant, though she tried not to let that affect her opinion of him. She didn't know his reasons for wanting her in private, but expected she was about to find out.

"Ow'd you know Aragrog, then?"

Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been that.

"Pardon?"

She tried to kept her voice as pleasant as she could, as his tone, too, was light and friendly.

"Ah didn't think 'e had any human friends 'sept fer me! And 'e never mentioned ya!"

She caught on, and felt guilty.

"Harry told me about the spider. I have a big respect for wildlife, so I was sad to hear it had passed away and came to pay respects."

"E's not an it. 'Es an 'e!"

His voice had changed completely. It was not gentle any more, but angry, offended. She said nothing, knowing how bad saying the wrong thing could end up for her.

"... He," she eventually corrected herself.

Professor Hagrid seized the collar of his dragon skin coat, straightened it out and somehow, seemed to became even taller.

"Am half giant, yer know? Do ya think am an it?"

Again, she said nothing. She could tell, dimly, where this conversation was turning, but was not about to help them get there.

"Not at all, Professor."

"Ow does it' make ya feel, then?"

She looked briefly around - and saw Harry and Horace having an intimate discussion through the hut window. Whether she liked it or not, her place was out here tonight.

"It isn't your fault," she said, still endeavouring to keep her voice calm.

Not looking at him while she spoke certainly made it easier. She waited for him to say something back, but when he did not oblige, she went on.

"You are what you're born as, nobody can help that... It's what you do with the gift of life that matters!"

"Ah meant 'ow does that make ya feel? About me? About standin' 'ere next to me! Ah say yer face when ah said ah'd join ya, don't deny it!"

He had not been as successful at keeping emotion out of his voice as she had been. In fact, it had just about shook the glass of his cabin.

Daphne deliberated, wondering whether to lie or not. Of course, if he decided he didn't like her talking down to him about his race, there wouldn't be anything she could do about it. With the size and muscle behind him, she would break easier than a twig before even having chance to summon a curse his way. Her trust in Harry's judgement and need for the plan to work was about the only thing keeping her here.

She looked to the closest pumpkin, which had a skinny and frail tiny bowtruckle making its way across it. Probably how she looked like to him right now, come to think of it.

"Well, giants are known for being violent and malicious… but..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him round on her aggressively.

"Ah! So it prolly makes yer think less o' me then, does it?"

She had to mull that one over for a few seconds. How brave was she feeling tonight?

"With your size, I scarcely think that would be possible."

Though he did not speak for a moment, his expression hardened instantly. They looked at each other, long and hard.

Finally, with no pretence or warning, he let out a bellowed laughter.

"YE GOT ME THERE, YOU 'AVE!"

She let out a tense breath. Or, more accurately, it was torn from her as he delivered a pat to her back that was so hard, it nearly sent her crashing straight into said pumpkin.

As his laughter died down, a stillness took the Hogwarts grounds. Though she couldn't see that far beyond the little hut, the noises of the lake and forest were present in her ears. It was a tranquil setting, and she was glad she was able to appreciate it more now than when she had her meeting with Sirius last week.

"Look - 'Arry is one of me best mates, 'e is. An' 'ah happen' to know what went down between the two of yer last year. It's not me business knowin' as a teacher, ah'm aware! But ah certainly won't be tellin' anyone, if tha's what yer worried about."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that the entire school also knew, but in fact, she appreciated the gesture all the same.

"You caused a lot of trouble fer 'im and 'is mates, yer know that?"

There was a gentleness in his voice now that hadn't been there before. Though he was accusing her of something, she felt no need to defend herself.

"BUT - but… well, 'e seems to really like ya, 'e does," he continued. "So does Sirius, actually. And ah've not known the pair of them ta be wrong often. Good judges of character if you ever met one. So, am willing ta give yer a chance. Just know that ah always put me mates interests first and foremost, got that?" he finished, regarding her with a fond, if bloodshot, eye.

His eyes were like little shining beetles inside that shaggy mess of a mane. She understood all at once why Harry liked him. He wasn't dangerous - well, he probably could be, if he really wanted - but he was a gentle soul. Looking into his eyes on this starry, moonlight night, something important connected inside her.

He could break her like a twig. But just because he could do something, didn't mean he would.

With an increasingly foolish feeling washing over her, she opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. Somewhere out in the grounds, a shrill, musical cry echoed throughout the darkness. To her intense embarrassment, she realised her eyes were turning watery. Under her breath, she cursed, and blinked away the tears threatening to escape down her cheeks. Her heartbeat began to drown out the sound of the wind.

"Oh… bollocks…"

This wasn't her.

She was playing the part again. She had been relying on, if she tried hard enough, she'd eventually believe it herself. The truth was - she never wanted to force the memory out of Horace, she never wanted to use the Imperious curse, or hurt anybody more than she had already done. She just needed to do something that justified the anger she was feeling.

There was no getting around it, despite everything, despite her better judgement and all he had done to justify her hatred - she felt bad turning on her father.

He was probably on his way to Azkaban right now - not that she would know. She had been specifically avoiding any recent Daily Prophets for that precise reason. She was glad she had made the decision to, but the longer it sat with her, the worst it festered. But that was all it was, a guilty feeling, and she was strong against it. Stronger than she was last year, and a lot stronger than she had been when she'd been given her mark. She didn't allow herself to feel anything other than shame and hate towards him now. No, the issue wasn't the pain she felt, but it was how she was choosing to deal with that pain, which was the issue. She tried harnessing it, weaponizing it and using it to spur her on. She used it to justify acting like a bitch to people, under the guise of acting for "the greater good".

Maybe she wasn't as developed as she let herself believe - the second she felt conflicted, she had fallen right back into her old ways.

She was doing the same thing now that had doomed her as the Ice Queen, the only difference being now, it was for the other side. She was as closed off and narrow-minded as always, and again had convinced herself she was in the right. The problem wasn't the Ice Queen, it was her. Just because her allegiance had changed, didn't mean the rest of her had also. She wasn't suddenly a good person, now she was on the good side.

A long silence passed as the two stared out into the dark of the grounds.

"Penny 'fer yer thoughts?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering how best to embark on what she wanted to say. How could she have been such an idiot? If she hadn't have had this talk with him, she might not even have realised it. And now she had, she suddenly felt increasingly ashamed of her behaviour the past few days.

"Do the ends justify the means?"

She tried to sound casual, as though it was a throwaway question of no real importance. But he gave a long sigh, with a hint that he understood.

"Good question, tha' is... An' ya prolly need someone smarter than me ta' answer it... What ah reckon though is, it all depends on the end, see? If the end is permanent, but the means aren't, then ah'd say so! But if ya gotta lose somethin' important ter get there, somethin' ya can't get back, then ah'd say evaluate very carefully if where yer are right now is that bad afterall!"

"Thank you, Professor."

"Call me Hagrid. Yer've earned it."

Daphne, who hadn't expecting that, smiled fondly.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I am sorry about Aragog."

Before he could respond, there was a ruckus of noise and their scene was disturbed. The door to the cabin swung open and Harry and Horace left together, holding each other tighlty, but looking considerably more sober than they had earlier.

"Hagrid! My friend! Good heavens, have you seen the time? These two need to be back off to the castle!"

Hagrid clapped his hands loudly together, startling her and sending a flock of birds flying from a nearby tree.

"Right! Right! Scram, the pair of yer! Not gettin' in trouble on my behalf!"

Her attention zeroed in on Harry, who was stumbling merrily towards her. Her heart didn't race nor pound anymore as she reached his proximity.

"Did you get it?"

He winked, causing her to go stiff.

Results spoke for themselves - it had been him that got the memory in the end, not her. That was probably down to the luck potion, but also her technique.

"Thank all of ya fer comin'. Ah know he would 'ave been absolutely made up with such a turn out! Ya'll are welcome down 'ere any time ya like, remember that!"

She looked up at Hagrid and felt a mix of surprise, sorrow, and yet also the deepest gratitude she thought she'd ever felt. The only reaction she could muster among her conflicting emotions was a smile. She would definitely remember that.

She was then able to wrangle Harry, stopping him speeding off without her. He took her hand in his, as gentle and warm as ever and they slowly began the walk back to the castle. For whatever reason, Horace had decided to remain behind. Which was lucky, because the new mood had set in and begged they not receive any extra company.

Lucky.

She grinned drunkenly at her own joke.

They held each other tightly as they climbed the incline. She squeezed hard on the hand holding hers. Her normally confident figure was now fragile. Something in her had broken tonight. Just as it had the fabled night of Horace's party. This difference was this had not been a sad revelation, but an empowering one.

"Harry, wait."

A single gust of wind rustled the trees and a second of silence passed.

"What is it?"

She wasn't able to check the time before they left, but judging by the night sky, it was late. Her energy was starting to wear off; it was a miracle that she managed to last this long. Even Harry, in his dazed and drunken state, was starting to look a bit tired. They had come to a stop just before the entrance to the bridge. An important spot, as it has been where she had confessed herself to him last year. A similar feeling of assurance swept her now. It was a romantic moment; she felt compelled to say something stupid and brave. And as they stood alone, she knew what it had to be.

She took a long breath, a slight shakiness to it.

"Let's just stay here. Just for tonight."

No more action to the castle was made. She leaned her head into his shoulder as he put his arm around her waist. It was the kind of public display of affection that would make her take house points away, had it been anyone else. But neither of them wanted to break this peaceful scene. With his eyes shut above her, he looked peaceful, and might well have been asleep. Even if he was, she wouldn't have minded, the warmth of his body pressing against hers, the secure feeling of his hand on her back... and that smile. That wonderful smile that was engraved into her memory. It was a contagious smile and she knew for once, they were both sharing it.

Their pasts were scattered and their futures shadowed by darkness; that much was undeniable. It would be as impossible to remove them from their lives as it would be to remove blue from the sky. But even with all that had happened already - and all that may well inevitably befall them in the future -now she was stood here and looking into that goofy smile, she was quite sure she wouldn't change a thing. Because her past, her mistakes, failures and all, were exactly what lead her here, tonight.

She closed her eyes and brought her face to his neck, pushing tightly into him.

"I think I love you, Harry."

She tried saying it as matter-of-factly and with few words as possible. For a fleeting moment, he went still, and she set about worrying. The only movement was the calm night time breeze. She felt as if she wanted to break into a run, yet was rooted firmly to this spot. She couldn't hear anything moments ago, but now she was picking up every ambient noise. Then, he let out a knowing chuckle.

"I love you too, Daphne."