Chapter 26 - The Pillars of Strength

Hi...

Quick recap...

- Dumbledore had met up with the Unspeakables to discuss the Bones attack and the fallout of Harry's actions.

- Madam Pomfrey caught Daphne in Harry's bed after they had their scandalous rendezvous in the Hospital Wing.

- Andromeda confronted Amelia over the smear campaign the media is pushing against Harry labeling him as a Dark Wizard for allegedly using the Unforgivables. Andromeda threatens Amelia, demands she fixes Harry's image or there will be retribution.

- Tonks wakes up at St Mungos, has a heart to heart with Remus who assures her that he won't leave her side again. Andromeda arrives to see Tonks. The two have their moment but it's not long before they go at it over Remus.

- Andromeda visits Harry at Hogwarts, vents to him over Tonks and Remus. Andromeda assures Harry that she'll take care of the media fallout.

- Afterwards, in the Great Hall, Susan publicly thanks Harry for saving her aunt. Harry then gets told off by McGonagall for his reckless and dangerous actions. Hermione, Ron and Co. have a group conversation about Harry and his behaviour.

- Daphne accosts Harry. Brimming with jealousy over the whole Susan thing that happened in the Great Hall, she is short with him as she demands he stops skipping Snape's DADA class. Harry questions her on her anger and that's when Daphne finds out Harry had been wearing the ring she had got for him from his birthday all this time.

- Daphne's no longer mad. The two have a sweet moment...

All caught up... hope you enjoy...

Chapter 21

CwD

October 3rd, 1996

She has to be doing that on purpose… Right?

Under a disillusionment charm, Harry blatantly stared at Daphne's swaying hips as the blonde made her way towards the Defence classroom.

Luckily for them, his fellow classmates were still waiting outside the room – likely for Snape – Harry reckoned, who had yet to turn up.

Despite the frigid temperature of October, Daphne's expert prowess in Charms was in full effect and Harry couldn't deny that he was more than a little envious. Here he was, freezing his balls off whilst the girl was practically prancing around as if it was summer.

"Even a Veela's allure is easier than this…" Harry muttered under his breath as he watched Daphne make her way to Tracey and Lily.

"Wait five minutes after I get there…" Daphne had stated earlier and when he had asked if during that time, Snape turned up and ushered them in, the blonde's answer was rather grating.

"The man already hates you for missing his classes and for whatever other inane reason for all these years. You turning up late for his class after it begins won't make him hate you any less…" and begrudgingly, Harry couldn't help but agree.

Snape did have it out from him since day one and after last year's rather abysmal Occlumency training with the sallow skinned man, he finally figured out why he held such a grudge.

Harry wouldn't deny that he was a bit caught off guard with the fact that his father and godfather used to bully Snape. In fact, a small part of Harry even sympathised with the man. He was. after all, a victim of his own cousin's bullying up until Hagrid had come along all those years back. Despite Dudley and his roles having been switched as Harry got older, the bitter desperation of longing for someone to save him when he was younger would never go away.

Children can be so devilishly cruel.

Nevertheless, even with Snape's pessimistic life, it still did not give the man carte blanche to ruin Harry's, solely on the sins of his father and his friends. There was absolutely no correlation with the two.

Harry instinctively rubbed the ring that Daphne had given him.

He was not one to judge someone based on the actions of their parents. The proof of that was that blonde beauty in tights with her back to him. At the end of the day, Snape was just a giant piece of shit because that's just the kind of man he was. The type to continue holding decades old grudges… against a dead person's son, no less.

Harry thoughts paused when he watched the rather sombre mood between his fellow housemates with a small frown.

Ron was silently fuming whilst Seamus, Dean, Neville, Lavender and Parvati looked as though someone had died. Harry could practically taste the tension in the group, and it was reinforced when his eyes found Hermione.

Her usual hair was bushier, her expression sullen. She was upset, that much Harry could gather with the way she held that large tome he had gifted her for Christmas last year, tight against her chest.

Harry mentally sighed.

Was this because of our conversation yesterday?

Just as Harry had noticed his fellow housemates' despondent expressions, so did the others in the class.

Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode couldn't quite keep the smirks off their faces as the former began whispering to the other, clearly not quiet enough judging from the way Ron's face was slowly matching the colour of his hair. Harry couldn't quite tell what they were saying from where he was but as Hermione and Neville began tugging Ron's robes in an attempt to pull the redhead away from hexing the Slytherins, Harry realised someone else was watching the proceedings with a rather impassive face.

If only their electric blue eyes weren't flashing with an emotion he had seen many times before.

What are you up to, Daphne…?

Harry didn't know what was going on in that brilliant mind of Daphne's as she watched his fellow Gryffindors but he definitely didn't have a good feeling about it especially with the way Daphne had her gaze transfixed on Hermione. Their last tumultuous encounter in the library was still rather fresh in his mind.

Just as he felt that enough time would have passed to not look suspicious that he and Daphne were together, a disturbance caught his attention behind him on the other side of the far end of the hallway.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy turn the corner before the former grabbed the front of the blonde's robes, thrusting him into the wall behind him. The two were whispering rather severely and Harry cursed as he realised his Cloak was still with Daphne. Although he was confident in his Disillusionment Charm, he wasn't confident enough that Snape wouldn't find out.

Despite the risk, Harry shuffled over as quietly as possible, eager to hear even snippets of their conversation, enough to prove his theory that his stupid cousin had finally taken the Mark.

" – I was chosen! Me!"

"Draco – "

" – No!" Malfoy hissed, yanking his robes away. "I won't have you steal my glory!"

Harry watched Snape sneer. "Do not be a fool, boy. You are clearly way over your head… if you just allow me to assist you, I – "

"I don't need your help – "

" – I swore to protect you!" Snape hissed, his eyes flashing. "I made the Unbreakable Vow…"

Harry blinked. What…?

He saw Draco's expression falter ever so slightly before it was gone. "That's on you… Professor. Nobody told you to do such a thing. Now… stay out of my way or else."

Harry could just about imagine Snape's eyes bulging with anger from Malfoy's words but remarkably, the man held himself back.

"This conversation is not over."

With that, the Potions Master swiftly turned and Harry only had a split second to flatten himself as far into the wall as possible. Fortunately, Snape didn't notice and Harry let out a breath of relief when the dungeon bat walked right past him.

Harry turned back to Draco who oddly hadn't moved.

Eventually, he did snap out of whatever daze had befallen him and began walking towards him and it was when he passed that Harry let his charm fall.

"Looking quite tense there, Draco?"

Malfoy flinched. Harry could see the clench of his jaw and watched carefully as the other boy slowly turned around.

" – Goodness lad! You ought to get yourself checked out, I say!" A painting beside Harry exclaimed. "I've seen corpses with more colour than you!"

The young Lord couldn't disagree. In the light, Draco Malfoy looked positively awful.

Dark circles bruised his pale skin. His immaculate hair hung loose at the edges. Even his posture lacked its usual pompous arrogance.

In just over a month, the Slytherin's form had descended even further than before.

"Piss off, Scarhead."

Harry scoffed, pushing himself off the wall and began stalking towards the other boy who took a hesitant step back.

"What are you up to, Malfoy?"

Draco sneered. "I'm not one of your sycophants who worship the ground you walk, Potter. Now fuck off if you know what's good for you!"

With that, the blonde turned his back and started walking away.

Harry, slightly miffed, decided to reach out to the boy's wrist and within a second, found a wand aimed at his forehead.

Green eyes widened in surprise before they narrowed into dangerous slits, only matched by the furious gaze of Draco.

"Clearly you've been training…" Harry acknowledged, tightening his grip on Draco's wrist. "You were never this quick before. Who trained you, cousin…?" He tilted his head. "Bellatrix?"

Draco's animated visage flickered at the name. "I'll give you one opportunity to unhand me – "

" – Or you'll do what?" Harry interrupted with a dark grin. "You'll curse me? By the time you utter a spell, I would've ripped your arm off. Maybe then I'll be able to see what you're hiding."

" – I'm not hiding anything!" Malfoy hissed. There was a certain crazed emotion in the boy's expression that was familiar. Before he could press him further, Harry's favourite professor decided to rejoin the fray.

" – What is the meaning of this?!"

The two boys sharply turned their heads and saw Snape marching back down the corridor. Behind him was their fellow classmates who were standing at the end of the hallway watching the unfolding confrontation with undisguised interest.

Draco snatched his arm back from Harry just as Snape reached them. "Nothing, Professor."

Snape's expression made it abundantly clear he did not believe a word of it. Nevertheless, his black, beady eyes slid toward Harry instead, settling on him with their usual measure of disdain.

Harry, on the other hand, met the look with practiced innocence.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being a nuisance in the corridor, Potter. Both of you, inside the classroom. Now."

Harry scowled but said nothing. Instead, he shoved past the pair and trudged along, reaching the large group of gawkers.

"Harry!"

He slowed as he reached the group, giving Hermione and the others a brief nod of acknowledgment. His eyes flicked briefly over the crowd and paused for a fraction of a second on Blaise, whose smirk suggested he had enjoyed the spectacle far more than was polite.

"What happened, mate?" Ron asked.

"Just the usual, Malfoy being a prat," Harry replied vaguely, waving off their further questions when it looked as if they were going to say more. "Don't worry about it."

"I wasn't expecting to see you here." Hermione said quietly once their interrogation died down.

"Thanks, Hermione."

She huffed. "You know what I mean!"

Harry offered her a small smile. "Yeah well, there's only so many times I can skive off lessons before my mother found out and let's just say, she wasn't too happy."

"There's no way you haven't got a dozen detentions already," Neville wondered, shaking his head.

Harry's smile widened. "Oh no doubt… and I have no intention on attending any."

Hermione made a quiet, exasperated sound at Harry's blatant disregard for school rules, but whatever reprimand she had been preparing died on her lips as Snape finally arrived with Draco in tow looking none too pleased.

"In."

The students didn't need to be told twice, and all began shuffling into the classroom with haste. Harry however, lingered behind.

At one point, he saw Daphne and her friends walk up alongside him as they waited their turn to filter into the classroom and the two made eye contact.

"After you." Harry said cheekily with a hint of sarcasm as he offered Daphne and the girls to go ahead before him.

Tracey's eyes lit up instantly, clearly delighted by the exchange, while Lily merely rolled her eyes. Daphne, however, simply raised one curious eyebrow.

She accepted the offered gesture without comment, stepping past him though she failed to completely hide the subtle twitch at the corner of her lips when Harry's finger poked her on the small of her back as she passed.

Harry, after admitting Daphne and her friends, was the last to enter the classroom and opted for the seat in the back. Seeing this, Hermione and Ron who had been waiting for him, joined him on his table, closely followed by Neville who took the seat on his other side.

" – I'd suggest you not get comfortable with your current seats," Snape uttered from the front of the room. "If you are under the impression that you will be duelling your fellow housemates today, you would be mistaken."

The room let a collective groan which was quickly silenced when Snape glared at them.

"Duelling?" Harry whispered to Neville.

Neville lowered his voice. "DADA's nothing like it used to be, Harry. Snape, well… he's still an arse but he's actually teaching us how to defend ourselves."

Harry hummed thoughtfully.

He had little doubt that anything Snape taught in this classroom would pale in comparison to the lessons he had received from his grandfather or even the weekly sessions with Dumbledore. Still, he couldn't deny a certain curiosity.

If nothing else, watching Snape attempt to teach a room full of teenagers how to duel promised to be entertaining.

After all, Harry was an expert, so to speak, in that area.

Snape's dark eyes swept slowly across the classroom, lingering on various students with the sort of disdain that suggested he had already decided most of them would die young. Eventually, the man got to Harry, and his lips curled with malice.

"Well, well… our resident celebrity finally decides to grace us with his presence."

Harry merely shrugged.

"Your detentions for your truancy numbers in the double digits, Potter, and so help me, I will ensure you attend every single one." Snape sneered triumphantly.

Harry's eyes caught Daphne's briefly and all he received in return was a raised eyebrow. The meaning was crystal clear.

"Yes sir," the teen eventually replied. If anything, his pallid acceptance only made Snape's mood sourer.

"After a month of painfully trying to teach you all the theory on Silent Casting, we started duelling last week and I'd like to comment at how utterly abysmal most of you had been. No doubt thanks to your irregular teachers over the course of your education. Although there are some who'd never amount to anything remotely resembling a duellist," Snape sneered, "you know who you are…"

Harry saw more than a couple students shifting uncomfortably. He was happy to see Neville wasn't one of them.

Last year, he had taken particular care with his fellow Gryffindor and after a lot of blood, sweat and tears which included getting rid of his father's pesky wand that Augusta had forced him to use, Neville was a shadow of his former self.

And he wasn't the only success story. There were many more like Neville but to Harry, finding the pride he felt for Neville was different to the others.

The Longbottom scion was just like him. Godbrothers even! They both experienced losses in similar but different ways but Neville was living in the past no doubt thanks to his grandmother's domineering personality and her ridiculous expectations whereas Harry learned to embrace the future.

Neville and he shared a special bond, and it was a terrible oversight on Harry's part that he didn't acknowledge the shy Gryffindor sooner.

" – Non-verbal spellcasting," Snape continued, "relies upon precise intent and absolute mental clarity. The incantation merely serves as a guide for the inexperienced."

Harry leaned forward, crossing his arms on the desk and stared at the professor with mild interest. For all his unpleasantness, it seemed Snape really did know what he was talking about.

Snape raised his wand towards a dummy off to the side. Without a word and barely a flick of his wrist, the construct was slammed into the far wall with a deafening crack.

"Depulso… had I spoken the incantation aloud, even the slowest among you would have had ample time to react. What else did you notice?" His gaze swept the room again. "Well?!"

Harry could feel Neville shifting in his seat as Snape blatantly ignored Hermione's outstretched arm.

He leaned over to the blonde boy. "If you know the answer, just say it, Nev."

Neville pursed his lips before hesitantly raising his arm in the air.

If Snape was surprised, it clearly wasn't displayed on his face. The Potion Master instead stared at Neville's arm as if it though it had personally offended him but did give the barest of nods.

"W-Well… sir," Neville began carefully, "your incantation didn't have the typical wand movement for Depulso… s-sir!"

Snape turned positively puce.

Harry almost snorted at Snape's expression whilst Hermione pouted next to him as she lowered her arm.

"If any of you by some miracle, do happen to advance that far in non-verbal casting… yes… you'll be able to limit your wand movements masking your incantation even more."

Harry elbowed Neville on the arm with a grin as the boy smiled back at him queasily.

" – For the purposes of this class, you will be expected to demonstrate competent silent casting before the end of the term."

A quiet prattle of nervous whispers rang about in the class.

"Silence! You will begin immediately in pairs with controlled duelling exercises."

The students reluctantly complied. With a few waves of Snape's wand, the desks and chairs were pushed to the sides of the classroom allowing a large stretch of space to form. He then flicked his wand at the blackboard, and a list of names were displayed.

"Find your allocated partner and start. Those who waste time in my classroom I will personally throw out."

"Bollocks… I got Zabini," Ron groaned as he trudged his way over to the Slytherin who leaked equally as displeased.

"'Least you haven't got Malfoy." Neville sighed. "Of all the sodding people…"

Harry patted Neville consolingly on the shoulder. He then turned to Hermione, whose expression was blank. "Who'd you get?"

Hermione, however, didn't reply. Only her jaw clenched hard until her face grew resolute. As she began gathering her things, that's when Harry looked over to the blackboard.

"Oh."

" – Rather intelligent of you, Potter."

Harry repressed a groan as he turned to the voice.

Daphne merely sniffed at him as she stood with her hand on her hip and the other holding her wand looking more than a little irritated. "Will you speed it up, Granger?" She snapped. "I'd like to actually use some spells in today's class, if you don't mind."

Hermione glared at the blonde who glared right back not before sending another glare at Harry as if it was his fault that Snape partnered Daphne and her together.

"Merlin…" he muttered warily watching Daphne strut away with Hermione sedately following her.

" – Rather catty, aren't they?"

Harry blinked; caught slightly off guard.

"Li."

"Potter… seemed as though Professor Snape has paired us up." The Ravenclaw, Sue Li, raised a slim eyebrow as she stared up at him. "I must say however, I am rather looking forward to duelling the future Premier Mage of Magical Britain."

Harry repressed a scowl at the title. "You sound awfully confident, Li."

The girl shrugged before inclining her head towards a spot off to the side.

"I am confident in my skill. Your prowess on the other hand has always been rather elusive over the years – do not misinterpret my words as insult," Su continued when it looked as though Harry was about to say something. "Theres no doubt you are skilled if rumours of your escapades over the years have any substance to them."

"Well sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Li, but I've unfortunately been rather restricted to using magic for the time being by a rather incensed matron." Harry muttered, his eyes naturally wandering off to where Daphne and Hermione were, who in the meantime, looked as if they were trading back and forth.

Not with magic, more with words.

Harry held back a sigh. It's like that greasy bat wanted everyone to suffer with these pairings.

"Well… that's a shame." Harry heard Su say.

He briefly turned to Ron and Blaise and saw the latter taunting the increasingly murderous-looking-red-faced Ron as he wrapped him up in two sets of chains that crossed his crotch and shoulders like a makeshift mankini while those around them laughed hysterically.

At least Neville and Draco on the other side of the room were actually duelling.

Harry's lips quirked up.

Those who hadn't seen Neville's simply miraculous improvement in the overall wand usage department could only watch on in awe as the young man duelled Draco like a man possessed. Spell after spell after spell was sent in precise and rapid intervals and what surprised Harry even more was that his wayward cousin was matching Neville.

A fire was clearly lit in Draco's sunken eyes as he swished his wand left and right, blocking and weaving Neville's heavy onslaught of hexes from a particularly nasty spell chain that Harry had taught him towards the end of the last school year.

Even Snape was impressed.

The bastard was hiding it, though Harry couldn't tell if he was more impressed with Neville or Draco.

Harry was now absolutely confident that Draco, during the summer, had received some rather special training.

Likely from bloody Bellatrix… Harry mused annoyedly as he watched his cousin freeze Neville's Confringo before hurtling the shards of ice back at him who managed to shield just in time before being pelted.

The prat even knows advanced counters…

"I must say, you did a rather good job with Longbottom."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Su who had been observing the matches as well.

"What makes you think I did anything?"

Su made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a snort. "That clandestine little club of yours was one of the worst kept secrets this castle has ever seen. I trust you know that, Potter?"

Harry, in fact, did, but it didn't mean he wanted to admit it to her. "Yes well, you can blame your fellow housemate for that. Hope she's enjoying her face…"

"Vindictive, aren't you."

Was she amused…?

"Believe me, it's the least that little shit deserves. If Hermione hadn't held me back, my choice of spells would've been much worse," he muttered darkly. Marietta Edgecombe was always a smarmy little toenail. Harry still hadn't forgotten the way she actively helped Malfoy sell the 'Potter Stinks' badges or the particularly vicious rumours she spread about him and Fleur.

Su smirked as she looked away. "Speaking of your girlfriend, looks like her and Greengrass' duel is finally about to start. Curious how there seems to be so much tension between the two…"

There was a question in her words that Harry chose to ignore completely. Instead, his eyes were transfixed on the two girls as they took up their positions when Snape had finally got round to them whilst they were mid-argument and had told them to ready their wands.

"Any bets on who'd win between the two?" Su asked innocently.

"No."

"Not much of a betting man, Potter?"

"No."

Su mock sniffed. "You're rather no fun for a Gryffindor."

Harry didn't deign her a response. His eyes instead were laser-focused on every shift in stance. Every adjustment of grip. Even every subtle change in each of their postures.

But one thing was different though. Every time he'd watch Hermione, his eyes automatically switched to Daphne for two or three seconds longer.

"Granger should have this in the bag." Su commented airily.

Her opinion irked him even if he knew it was true.

Harry had barely scratched the surface when it came to training Daphne in duelling. They had attempted a few spells together, mainly when they were completing homework for Charms and Transfiguration but hadn't solely focused on combat spells. He was starting to regret that now.

Harry began fiddling around with the ring Daphne had given him and when he realised what he was doing, he immediately clenched his fist and stopped.

Why am I so tense…?

Daphne's kneeling, broken visage flashed in his mind; a multitude of wounds littering her body…

"Potter?"

Harry gritted his jaw hard. "M'fine."

The thought of once again, seeing the utter defeat on Daphne's face was repulsive to him. He hated the very thought.

Snape stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Begin."

Hermione wasted no time. "Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!" Daphne's shield came up almost immediately and the Disarming spell bounced off helplessly, but Hermione was already moving.

"Diffindo!"

The blonde scrambled out the way from the charm and just in the nick of time no less as it sliced a deep cut on the ground from where she stood.

Su whistled lowly and Harry frowned.

The Severing charm, although allowed in duels, was quite dangerous particularly if it was powered with more magic than what was necessary and clearly, Hermione's was. It was a practice duel after all. Harry looked over to Snape to see if he was going to intervene, but the man stayed silent.

Daphne however wasn't.

It was clear from her narrowed eyes that she was quite taken back from such a spell from goody-two shoes Hermione, and she wasn't the only one. Others had stopped their duels to watch theirs and even some members from Dumbledore's Army raised a few eyebrows.

It was unlike Hermione to be so aggressive.

Harry had a bad feeling.

"Glacius!"

Like a blanket, frost erupted from Daphne's wand with such ferocity that it froze everything it touched. The ground, the walls… even some students who Snape's counter spell didn't touch in time.

"How apt…" Su commented interestingly, poking at the ice that had frozen the tips of her robes with her wand. "Ironically, it seems the Silent Queen has an affinity for ice magic, wouldn't you agree, Potter?"

Harry didn't respond, which caused Su to roll her eyes. With a wave of her wand, she dispelled the ice around them. "Being uncouth doesn't suit you, Potter."

"And I didn't realise you were such a chatterbox, Li."

She shrugged, casting a curious glance in Harry's way. "Only with certain company."

"Sorry Li, I'm not interested," Harry replied distractedly, watching Hermione flinch when the ice began creeping up her legs.

Su eyed Hermione releasing a localised Incendio, melting the ice enough to free her legs. "Shame… my family would adore you and your name."

"Sounds as if I'd be marrying your family and not you."

The Ravenclaw hummed. "You're not entirely wrong…"

" – Watch out, Hermione!"

The class watched intently as Hermione (thanks to Hannah's exclamation), just about pivoted to the side to avoid the jagged ice spikes that had formed underneath her in uneven angles.

Snape glared at Hannah. "Five points from Hufflepuff."

The other Puffs' grumbles were smothered by the now back and forth between Hermione and Daphne, but it was clear the blonde was quickly losing steam as the duel continued.

"Seems as if this duel is coming to an end. Pity… Greengrass surprised me," said Su loftily.

Harry agreed.

Daphne was completely outmatched and he figured that even she knew likely from the get-go and yet, she still fought soundly.

"Depulso!"

Daphne flinched, not expecting the Banishing Charm of all things at the end of Hermione's spell chain.

"Proteg – " The blonde tried but she wasn't quick enough. One second, Daphne found herself on her feet and the next, she felt her back collide with Snape's ward.

The room became quiet. Only the sound of the ruffle of Daphne's clothes and the laboured breathing of Hermione, permeated the space.

Snape hummed before shooting Hermione a half glare. "Do you need me to show you how to end a duel, Miss Granger?"

Hermione snapped out of whatever funk she was in and quickly shook her head. Slowly, she began walking towards a downed Daphne and her expression slowly turned smug as the majority of the class began to applaud and congratulate her.

"You taught your girlfriend well, Potter. Just be careful that Warrington doesn't come after you on his betrothed's behalf."

Harry didn't reply, too busy watching Daphne. Her hair had perfectly fallen across her face blocking her expression so he couldn't see if she was hurt or anything.

He pursed his lips.

Not like I could go and check anyway.

Hermione levelled her wand at Daphne and just before she could stun her, suddenly Daphne whipped her wand out and pointed it at a startled Hermione.

"Umbra Imperium!"

A second went by, then two and finally, three before everyone realised nothing had happened.

Daphne had only a moment to glance and see Harry's absolute shocked expression before her wand was ripped out of her hand and into Hermione's outstretched one.

"Hmph… clean yourselves up Greengrass, Granger," Snape commanded before he moved on to the next pair.

"What was that all about in the end?" Neville asked as he walked up to Harry. The class in the background was going into an abuzz over the two girls' duel. "Harry?"

Harry blinked, regaining his senses before shaking his head.

"No idea," he lied, watching Daphne snatch her wand out of Hermione's hand before she was surrounded by Tracey and Lily who led her away to the side.

Neville crossed his arms. "Probably some Greengrass Family Magic or something. Though from the look of things, either she didn't use it properly or doesn't know how to – oh! Hey Su! Didn't see – you alright there, Su? Looks like you've seen a ghost…"

Harry frowned and turned his gaze to the smaller girl beside him. Neville was right. Su's face had gone pale. The Ravenclaw turned to look at him when she felt his eyes and for a moment, the two locked eyes before the moment ended.

"Fine…" she began softly as she turned around. "Excuse me."

Neville and Harry turned to look at each other and after a moment, shrugged carelessly.

Ron, meanwhile, grumbled as he penguin walked over to the pair. His hand held his crotch gingerly whilst students around him snickered. "Fucking Zabini… I'll get him next time, the bloody pillock…"

Neville tried hiding his grin to no avail. "Had a good time with Zabini, Ron?"

"Piss off, Neville. At least Hermione knocked the socks off Greengrass. It's about time that bitch fell down a couple pegs or two."

Harry chose not to respond and instead walked away and went to look at Susan and Pansy's duel instead.

"What's his deal?" Ron whispered to Nevile.

Neville shrugged as the pair followed him. "Maybe he's ticked off that he wasn't able to duel?"

CwD

"Looks like they've made up."

Daphne didn't bother following Tracey's line of sight.

"I wasn't aware they were fighting," she said coolly. "Nor do I care."

"Pfft! It was obvious they had some sort of spat." Tracey replied adamantly, watching Hermione animatedly gesture at Harry and the others, clearly recounting the duel as if they hadn't been watching the entire time. "Well… more than usual but now they seem to be back to normal again."

She brightened suddenly. "Anyway! You almost had her!"

Daphne and Lily shot Tracey an incredulous look until the brunette grinned sheepishly.

"Just trying to stay positive…"

"Well save it," Daphne sighed, rubbing her elbow where she'd hit the floor. "Everyone knew Granger would wipe the floor with me – did you get that scorch mark off the back of my robes, Lily?"

"Which spot – oh!" Lily swished her wand and the fabric smoothed itself clean. "There. Honestly, what'd you even do to tick the Bookworm off so much? That Severing Charm was a little excessive. I have half a mind to curse her myself for that if I didn't know Potter would intervene for his little girlfriend."

Daphne chose not to reply.

Tracey nodded rapidly. "Exactly! What was she even thinking?! She could've killed you!"

Daphne huffed, repairing her shoe with a wave of her wand. "Glad I got out the way then."

"Clearly, she was pissed about you and Potter, Daph." Tracey giggled. "Didn't like the way you're monopolising your time with him."

Daphne kept her expression perfectly neutral. "As though I've been given much of a choice in the matter…"

"And how goes your little potion project with the Wonder Boy?" Lily smirked.

"Slughorn gave us another week to see if we can rescind our rejection to brew the Aetherial Draught. If not, we'll have to brew our backup… we're already cutting it close – time wise. Hopefully this thing with the Ministry can be fixed."

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" Tracey asked. "Your father?"

Daphne's expression darkened before it cleared. "No. H – Potter said he'll handle it… whatever that means."

Tracey looked thoughtful. "Well after the Bones thing, he's back in the news again – "

" – When isn't he – "

" – MY point is," she continued, shooting Lily a glare, "he might be able to pull a few strings or something, I don't know."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Potter doesn't seem the type. He could've done all sorts of things over the years if he had used his name to get around stuff. Rita Skeeter… hello?"

"I suppose…"

The bell at that moment chimed. Snape immediately, swished his wand at the door and opened it. "I expect your homework to be done promptly and to a high standard. Any who submits subpar work will be target practice next class. Dismissed."

The students began to leave measuredly, and Daphne peeked above her classmates' heads to see if she could spot Cassius waiting outside for her.

"Seems like he's got a lesson next period – small mercies," Lily said, patting Daphne on the shoulder. "I don't know how you cope. Even for the rest of us, it's getting annoying."

Daphne smiled but the expression didn't reach her eyes. "One day at a time."

Her friends shared a helpless look between them.

Ahead of them, the Gryffindors gathered near the doorway.

" – Common Room, Hermione. Coming?"

"I'll meet you there," replied, Hermione, skipping ahead. "Just need to pop to the lavatory!"

The three Slytherin girls watched as she disappeared into the corridor.

"You reckon she ever feels out of place? She is the only girl in their group." Tracey remarked out of earshot.

"I'd say that's more the Weasel than Granger," Lily snorted. "It's like this: if you and Greenie were constantly flirting around me, I'd have first hexed you both silly and then would've left you guys to yourselves. No one likes being a third wheel."

Tracey grinned as she put an arm around Daphne's shoulders, ignoring the blonde's heatless glare. "No one except, Weasley, apparently?"

"He's a bit thicker than most," the black-haired girl chuckled. "Still… did you see how happy Granger looked when Potter congratulated her?"

Tracey smirked. "Oh, I saw."

"Like a little puppy," Lily finished.

The girls giggled though they sobered up relatively quickly.

"Potter probably showed her how to duel like that. Don't you remember her and Millie back in the Second Year?"

"Yeah, but that was Second Year, Trace."

"Still!" Tracey insisted as the three of them drifted out into the courtyard, the crisp air a welcome change from the stuffy classroom. "Anyone can learn spells and whatnot, sure – but chaining them together like that, pfft! That's difficult. Remember my uncle? Uncle Phil? On my mum's side."

"The ex-duelist?"

Tracey nodded eagerly.

"We met up with my cousins over the summer, and I got him to show me and my brother some spells. Showed us this wicked spell chain and when I went to try it, I failed after like the second charm… what I'm saying is that Granger struggled with Moody back in fourth year, didn't she? Remember how he used to shout at her for not being able to link the Levitation Charm with the Descending one properly?"

"And that was just two spells…" Lily hummed thoughtfully.

"Right!" Tracey exclaimed excitedly. "And now look, here the bookworm is chaining what… five or six spells at once? Seamlessly in fact! And-And it's not like Umbridge taught us anything last year so who else have we seen chain spells back when Moody was teaching us…?"

"Potter…" Daphne said softly.

Lily leaned in slightly. "I mean it makes sense… when it comes to DADA, Potter's always been leagues better than all of us. In the practical side anyway. By the way, Greenie… what was that last spell you tried doing at the end of your duel with Granger?"

Daphne's cheeks pinkened.

"It was a spell I saw when I was watching H – my father practice over the summer," she lied. "It was meant to occlude the opponent's vision, but I suppose I did it wrong."

"Could've been a game changer if it did work," said Lily patting Daphne's arm. "Wonder what kind of face Potter would've made if he had seen his little girlfriend fall to his Potion's partner."

The girls giggled and Daphne, despite herself, cracked a small smile though inside, the physical ailment that came with her injuries slowly gave way to frustration at her lack of skill.

Daphne hated losing. Especially to Hermione Granger.

"Anyway… Common Room or Library? I need to get started on my Transfiguration essay or I won't have any time to do it later."

"Prefect duty?"

"Bloody hate that bitch, MacGillony," Lily sulked. "I accidently walked in on her cheating on her boyfriend last year and since then, she's been making my life hell! Always making me escort the First Years in between lessons. They're all so annoying!"

Daphne sent an icy glare at Lily who raised her hands up when she realised what she had said.

"Gods, not Fiona! She's like the only one that's normal! Doesn't ask needlessly annoying questions, she's quiet and doesn't need to be told thrice about where things are or how to get to places. Honest!"

Daphne's expression eased.

"Nice save, Lils…" Tracey smirked when she saw how flustered Lily got under Daphne's ire.

"Shut up, Tracey."

The two continued bickering back and forth as the trio began walking in the general direction of both their Common Room and the Library. Meanwhile, a sudden idea popped into Daphne's mind.

"I've got to ask Professor Snape something. I'll meet you guys at the library afterwards."

Tracey frowned slightly. "Want us to wait?"

"I won't be long. Go on ahead and try to get the table by the window."

Lily snorted. "And if the Hufflepuffs are there like before?"

"Then you do what you always do," Daphne replied dryly. "Threaten to hex them if they don't move."

Tracey puffed up with mock pride. "That's usually my role, actually."

Daphne and Lily exchanged an amused glance.

"Don't take too long otherwise Tracey will drag me around the castle looking for you again," Lily rolled her eyes at the brunette's indignant 'hey'.

"Make sure you get that table," Daphne reminded. "You know I hate it when people stare at us when we're sitting out in the open."

"That's what happens when you're seen with us," Tracey shot back over her shoulder.

When they were out of sight, the faint smile on Daphne's lips faded almost immediately. Without a moment to lose, she headed off towards the lavatory. Daphne hated lying to her friends, but she couldn't let the chance slip. If she was quick enough, a certain bookworm would still be there, and a certain conversation was long overdue…

Girl to girl.

Fortunately, Daphne was indeed quick enough.

She pushed open the doors to the lavatory and spotted a cluster of Fifth Year Slytherins giggling and snickering by the sinks. Her lips curled.

"Out."

The girls all stiffened at once. One of them opened her mouth as if to protest, but whatever she saw in Daphne's expression made her think better of it. Within seconds, they had gathered their things and filed out in a hurried shuffle, whispering under their breath the entire time.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Daphne threw up a Notice-Me-Not charm and a subtle lock charm that would only require an individual to push open the door with slightly more effort than normal to open it. What was handy about it though was that the moment someone would open the door, Daphne would know immediately.

After hearing a flushing sound from one of the cubicles, Daphne, walked over to one of the sinks and took stock of her reflection. Despite the rather animated duel with Hermione, she looked no worse for wear thanks to Lily for fixing her up. Her face displayed her well known perfection and except for a few strands of her hair that had escaped her ponytail, she looked right as rain.

From the corner of her eye, Daphne saw the door to a cubicle open and from it emerged Hermione. The moment their eyes locked through the mirror, Hermione instantly whipped out her wand and pointed it to Daphne's back.

"What do you want, Greengrass?"

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

" – If this is about the duel – "

The blonde sneered. "Don't be so stupid."

" – Well then what? It certainly looks like you're here to take revenge."

"Am I forbidden from using the lavatory now, Granger?"

Hermione gritted her teeth but eventually let out a breath.

"This is pointless," she said, pocketing her wand – walking off to the exit. "I'm leaving."

" – I'll admit… you're better than me."

Hermione paused in her step. She turned to look at Daphne who was washing her hands.

"What…?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Granger."

"I-I don't understand…?"

Daphne exhaled softly. After drying her hands, she reached into her bag and retrieved a small compact. Flipping it open, she began lightly touching up her face. "You really are unsufferable. And to think I lost to you."

Hermione watched the other girl's reflection half in perplexion and half in slight envy.

Envy because there was something effortless about the way Daphne carried herself. She looked like one of those fairy princesses her mum used to read her stories about when she was younger except far, far ruder and definitely more arrogant.

Even this; standing in front of the mirror, easily fixing her appearance looked natural in a way Hermione could never quite hope to replicate.

A flicker of a memory she had thought she'd forgotten resurfaced… and a very nasty memory it was.

Hermione was coming down the stairs from her dormitory looking for Harry and Ron. It was a few days after the Christmas holidays and though she had been patient, not to badger Harry on and on about learning the Patronus Charm, it was finally time for the stubborn boy to teach her and, she supposed, the rest of Dumbledore's Army.

" – Fittest bird in Sixth Year – Go!"

Hermione's footsteps faltered.

Dean hummed before his eyes lit up. "Ohh, that girl from Hufflepuff… Something Hunt… she's that Seventh Year that tosser Davies dated."

Seamus closed his eyes in concentration before snapping his fingers in recollection.

"Juniper!"

"That's her!" Dean guffawed; eyes becoming starry. "Juniper Hunt… olive skin, smoky eyes… she's so sexy."

"Aye… you can't forget the arse on that. Someone said she's related to Professor Sinistra and if that's true, fuck that makes so much sense," Seamus grinned lasciviously. "I'd so do, Professor Sinistra."

"You'd do anything with a hole, Seamus," Ron and some of the other boys, both younger and older, who were loitering around laughed uproariously.

Hermione from her spot, didn't. She wanted to interrupt their awful conversation, but something held her back.

"Laugh it up, you gits!"

" – Ooh, ooh, ooh! Cho Chang! Can't forget about sweet, Cho Chang. No offence, Harry."

Harry, who was busy playing Neville in chess after losing to Ron, made a negligent wave of his hand.

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, the whole school knows you're horny for Hermione."

Hermione could feel her face getting warm. Do they have to be so crass…?

"Fuck off, Seamus," Harry said cheerfully before taking Neville's bishop.

Neville groaned.

" – And that's good for us," Dean piped up. "Everyone's knows you like Hermione, so all the girls have kinda just given up on you – thank goodness!"

Nearly every boy was nodding in agreeance.

" – And I'm perfectly fine with that. Check, Nev."

" – Can we move on, please." Ron pleaded, from his spot.

Seamus grinned. "Right… forgot Ron gets the shits whenever Hermione gets brought up."

Hermione blinked.

Ron's ears went red. "Seriously, fuck off, Seamus!"

The Irish boy held up his hands, stemming his chuckle. "Alright, then, who's the fittest bird in our year? Dean, go."

"… Well that's obvious… Daphne Greengrass."

"Greengrass?!" Ron spluttered. Hermione, off to the side, pursed her lips tightly.

"Nev?"

"Uhhh…" The blonde boy went completely red in the face.

"Skip him, he's obviously going to say Hannah."

"Wait, say's who – hold on – "

" – Harry?"

Harry paused and looked at him from the corner of his eye. "I thought you knew my answer too?"

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach.

"No but conventionally. Like pretend if Hermione was with someone else – Merlin, I said pretend!" Seamus quickly repeated when Harry narrowed his eyes. "Who'd you pick?"

"Oh, come on, Harry. We're all wondering y'know."

Harry snorted in refusal.

"He's not wrong mate," Ron said with a strained smile, one Harry failed to see.

" – C'mon, Harry!"

" – Mate – "

Hermione felt the ground vanish beneath her when it looked as if Harry was really considering answering Seamus' ridiculous question.

" – Just one name – "

"Fine!" Harry exclaimed annoyedly. "Bloody idiots…"

The guys watched with eager expressions. Even some girls who had been listening in on the not-so-private conversation stopped whatever they were doing to hear Harry's answer.

The teen sighed, dragging a hand through his messy, black hair before pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose the one in our year is not bad… Greengrass, I mean – "

The boys began whooping loudly and Hermione felt as if she was drowning –

"ONE OF US!"

"ONE OF US!"

"ONE OF US!

" – Granger!"

Hermione blinked as she returned to the present. "W-What…?"

Daphne, now facing her, looked as if Hermione was particularly dim. "I asked who trained you."

"N-Nobody trained me!" She replied hastily. "I-I trained myself."

"I find that hard to believe… in fact, I still remember how you struggled to chain charms together back in Fourth Year. Professor Moody wasn't quite happy with you."

"People improve, Greengrass," Hermione shot back bitingly. "It's called growth."

Daphne looked at her painted nails. "If it wasn't for Potter teaching you himself, perhaps I would call it growth too…"

The brunette narrowed her eyes. "What's Harry got to do with anything?"

A derisive sound escaped from the back of Daphne's throat.

"…You think Harry trained me."

"I think it's fairly obvious he did and I'm not the only one who thinks so."

" – What's it to you whether Harry has trained me or not? He's my best friend."

Daphne smirked. "Well… if the rumour mill can be believed, nowadays all you do is fight."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Like I said… what's between myself and Harry has absolutely nothing to do with you. So just butt out of our business, Greengrass."

" – It absolutely has everything to do with me." Daphne hissed, stunning the other girl. "I've had the misfortune of being paired up with him in Potions and I can't have him be distracted over some pathetic issue with you, Granger."

"Y-You don't know what you're talking about!"

" – He likes you," Daphne interrupted quietly.

Hermione looked away.

Daphne watched the reaction with narrowed eyes, her mind moving a mile a second.

"It's obvious to everyone that Potter likes you," she continued, "and its frankly quite annoying. Annoying because his lack of concentration… is distracting not only me… but really messing with our entire… project… too… and I have no intention… of fai – " Daphne trailed off, seeing Hermione getting increasingly closed off as she spoke.

"If that's all, Greengrass, I am leaving."

Once again Hermione began leaving for the exit but before she could pull the doors open, Daphne spoke up behind her again.

" – You don't like him back… do you?"

Hermione's hand stilled on the door handle. For a moment, she didn't turn.

"…That's none of your business," she replied after a pregnant silence.

"Which makes it all the more curious, Granger. You practically have the Harry Potter in the palm of your hand and yet…?"

"You don't know anything – "

"Believe me, darling, I know enough. Allow me to guess… Potter doesn't fit into your so-called categories anymore. He's changed too much." Daphne deduced.

Hermione vehemently shook her head. "You're wrong!"

"Am I? It's not that hard to figure out, you know. You've seen what they've written about him, the things he's done, the lengths he plans on going and that clashes entirely with you, Hermione Granger."

Daphne went for the kill.

"You hate what he's becoming and honestly… I do not blame you."

Like a switch, Hermione's despondent expression turned into one of disbelief. "W-What?"

"People talk… Slytherins in particular. Nowadays, the hot topic around the school is about Potter. It's honestly quite tiring," Daphne mock sighed, turning back to the mirror. "Nevertheless, despite all the gossip, there is a trickle of truth beneath their words. There always is when the rumours begin in Slytherin."

"Truth? W-What truth?"

"That Harry Potter is a killer. That it was he who killed Rabastan Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback and not the Aurors. That if it wasn't for him, Madam Bones would be dead, and we'd once again be thrust into another election."

Daphne heard a sharp intake of breath behind her and her lips twitched. A loaded silence followed which the blonde was perfectly content with letting Hermione stew in her thoughts.

"You… You said that – that you don't blame me… why?" Hermione whispered almost as if she didn't even believe it herself that she was asking such a question.

"Because, Granger, I'd likely feel what you're feeling if I was in your shoes," Daphne lied. "To know that the person you… love might be capable of things you fundamentally disagree with. That they used spells that we were taught to despise. We may have been brought up in two different worlds, Granger, but I do believe our morals are aligned."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "… The newspapers lie." She shook her head, "I've seen and experienced it first-hand."

"Will you continue to live in denial?" Daphne's eyes twitched. "And what about Potter… did he deny it himself?"

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but found there was no words coming out. Daphne continued speaking after spotting the other girl's hesitancy.

"Whether it's true or not… you've thought about it." Daphne locked eyes with Hermione through her reflection. "I can see it in your face, Granger."

" – Why?" Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line. "You've never even spoken a word to Harry until this year so why do you care, Greengrass?"

"I don't… not really, anyway. Perhaps it's jealousy? That you have the ability to make your own choices and yet you squander them hurting not only yourself but Potter as well."

Hermione's eyes immediately softened as a pit formed in her stomach. "I-I'm sorry, Greengrass. About – About your betrothal. No one should go through something so barbaric. Especially if it's something that's against their will."

"Don't be." For the first time since the start of their conversation, Daphne's expression was unguarded as pure revulsion filtered in. "I do not have a choice, but you do. I'm sure it wasn't easy being cast in Potter's spotlight ever since he had his eyes only for you. In your own way, I suppose you became trapped the moment the expectation began to settle in. The tales of James and Lily Potter's tumultuous romance is legend after all. A young Pureblood heir chasing after a reticent Muggleborn girl… Sounds familiar?"

Hermione looked away, wrapping her arms around her midsection.

Daphne's eyes glinted. "Do the correct thing, Granger. Before you become truly trapped as well. Otherwise, there won't be a day where you'll continue to doubt yourself on whether you really made the correct decision. It will eat at you always."

With that, Daphne walked past Hermione and towards the doors that led out to the hallway. Her ice-cold mask had settled in but if one would look closely, behind those electric blues housed one emotion.

Triumph.

Now to wait for the demons in her mind to take over…

CwD

October 7th, 1996

" – The boy isn't even here to answer for his actions!"

"This is not a trial, Ambassador Julie," Amelia cut in, sending a sharp look at the fuming woman.

She, her cabinet and Dumbledore had been summoned to appear in front of the ICW following the attack on her and slowly but surely, Amelia was beginning to get sick of the whole ordeal. "The British Ministry has found Lord Harry Potter's actions to be of no fault – "

" – Of course, his Ministry will cover the criminal – "

" – If that is the case, why hasn't the ICW charged Lord Potter with a crime? It's been almost two weeks since the attack on my Manor and yet, not one single charge has been pressed." Amelia shook her head annoyedly. "Ladies and gentlemen of the chamber, we must move on. There are more pressing matters at hand, one I have repeatedly asked for assistance on – ."

A wave of protest rose instantly drowning out Amelia's voice.

"ORDER!" The sound of a gavel being struck was echoed a few times before the masses quietened. At the helm of the chamber, dressed in garish brown robes was a woman with a severe looking expression. "The British Ministry has the floor as is their lawful right! If certain individuals cannot contain themselves, I will have them removed from this chamber. Madam Bones, please continue."

The command did little to quieten the chamber.

The redhead inclined her head before her eyes swept the circular room. "Thank you, Madam Speaker. As I was saying, the International Confederation of Wizards is not a court of spectacle, and it is certainly not a venue for emotional conjecture! Lord Potter is a British magical citizen under the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic. Any review of his actions is being conducted in accordance with British magical law and overseen by my office personally."

"And that is precisely the problem," the German Minister of Magic snapped.

Amelia hid back a sneer. She despised Anton Vogel. How the man even became the German Minister of Magic was unknown but his admiration to Gellert Grindelwald was not, however. He was a slippery fellow; one Amelia had to ensure she was on her guard for.

"You expect us to believe this is impartial? The boy used the Unforgivables!"

"That is simple conjecture that has been blown out of proportion." Amelia retorted, her irritation beginning to show. She looked over to Dumbledore for some kind of back up, who, unlike her, had conjured up a comfortable-looking armchair and was simply rocking back and forth as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Albus."

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Catalina Ávila of Spain!"

At once the room quietened. Heads turned to the one who spoke and saw an elderly woman rise from her seat. Her brown hair had an almost green tinge to it, laced with streaks of grey that contrasted heavily with the rest of her appearance.

She lacked the German Premier Mage's mountainous frame and certainly did not carry Dumbledore's quiet omnipresence. Yet the moment she stood, the atmosphere within the chamber shifted regardless.

Amelia noticed immediately the name in which Catalina was known for began filtering through the air.

The Butcher of Salamanca.

The Bones family were known long ago to dabble in Necromancy and that's probably why Amelia felt the fear in her well-up. After all, Catalina Ávila was most commonly known as the one who ended the Tashkent Necromancer Revolt twenty years ago. The revolt in which a cult of Necromancers utilised the family magic of many magical families, including her own, to bring back powerful wizards of old to do their bidding. Thankfully, they didn't succeed though it wasn't without casualties. Many had been injured especially Moody who had lost his leg saving her but that didn't hold a candle to the number that had been slaughtered for ritual sacrifices.

Amelia found herself lowering her gaze before she even realised she was doing it. The compulsion was too much but almost as quick as it came, it disappeared when she felt Dumbledore's hand on her shoulder.

"Catalina, my dear, I would rather you not do that, please. It is awfully off putting."

The Spanish Premier Mage's gaze lingered upon the old man for a long moment before shifting towards Amelia. "Forgive me, Madam Bones. It is a… habit. One I have been unable to break from when I see someone like you."

Amelia grimaced but nevertheless, nodded thankfully at Dumbledore who smiled back gently.

"One of the two Hit-Wizards who had been dispatched to your residence, Madam Bones, carried my seal," she began. "Fortunately, Isabella survived."

"Jacques Rousseau was among the finest combatants France possessed," Catalina continued evenly. "Isabella informed me he had been pivotal for the evacuation of injured Auros before his death at the hands of Antonin Dolohov."

A low murmur went through the chamber at the name. Everyone knew the story about the once disgraced duelling master. Amelia looked over to the Russian delegation and saw their members with stony faces.

"Lucas has every right to be furious over Rousseau's death," Catalina said. "As would any nation represented within this chamber had one of their own fallen under similar circumstances. However… I agree with Madam Bones. I find this chamber's priorities questionable."

The murmurs halted abruptly.

"With respect, Madam Ávila," Anton Vogel began slimily. "Potter – "

The woman shot the man a look that instantly drained his face of colour. Amelia couldn't help but smirk.

"As I was saying… the attack on Bones Manor was not just an act of violence but a coordinated terrorist assault. An assault, that resulted in the deaths of British civilians, international operatives and Ministry personnel alike and yet, for the past two hours, this chamber has focused almost exclusively upon the actions of a sixteen-year-old boy."

"Au contraire, Catalina… the topic of this boy must be discussed. He is, after all, ze apprentice of the current Supreme Mugwump and heir apparent to Britain's Premier Mage title."

Whispers descended throughout the chamber as everyone, including Amelia's, turned their gazes to the new voice who spoke.

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Lucas White of France!"

He was a handsome man who looked to be just on the cusp of adulthood, Amelia acknowledged. Blonde, shoulder length hair fell in waves over his head with chiselled features that one would find in a typical storybook. His eyes, however, was most fascinating.

They glowed like molten gold, as though forged in a sunlit pool and sculpted into perfect spheres.

He was striking – that much, Amelia would admit, but it was the power that he exuded that had an impression on all. It was overwhelming and Amelia could only imagine how someone so young, could be so gifted.

Her eyes caught the entourage behind him particularly Sebastian Delecour who gave her an uneasy look.

Amelia had a bad feeling about this…

"Ever zince Lord Potter has been introduced into our midst, we have heard nought but wrongdoings and with ze power he holds now, every action of his not only reflects on us, the pinnacle of zhis world's power, but has caused international consequences."

"Indeed… indeed it has," Catalina replied softly. Next to her, Isabel Vargas, looked away with a pinched expression. "I am not blind to the concerns surrounding Lord Potter. Nor am I particularly comforted by recent reports regarding his conduct." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Especially considering his familial inheritance. To think that cursed family has been resurrected through Lord Potter troubles me greatly. One only needs to travel back in time for a few decades to remember the utter destruction and turmoil Cassieopia Black wrought alongside Gellert Grindelwald."

The chamber shifted uncomfortably, none more than Amelia.

"Harry is not his forefathers. I must urge you all to remember that." Finally, Dumbledore stood up to his full height and addressed the chamber. "He was under direct orders from me to go and protect Madam Bones whilst I went to handle the Dementors who attacked our magical district. Madam Bones can corroborate this."

Amelia blinked as the focus returned to her. She cleared her throat.

"Lord Potter's use of force was justified. It was due to him that me and my Aurors hadn't succumbed to Antonin Dolohov's Fiendfyre. We owe him our lives."

" – Ze cursed flames?! – "

" – Fiendfyre…?! –

" – I do not believe it!" –

" – Gods save us… " –

The whispers travelled like wildfire throughout the room so much so the elderly woman who was standing for Dumbledore at the centre dial was struggling to regain control of the room.

"Order! Order!"

" – That is impossible!" Anton Vogel exclaimed rather dumbly, in Amelia's opinion.

Lucas held up his hand and just like that, the room fell back into silence.

"Lord Potter's combat capabilities are not in question," he began softly. "I believe zhat much has become painfully obvious."

Amelia couldn't help herself. "And what exactly is your concern, Mage White?"

"My concern, Madame Bones, is zhat Britain appears determined to produce another weapon that they cannot control."

"Britain has every sovereign right to appoint its successor as it sees fit, Lucas," Dumbledore replied calmly. "As does France. As does Spain, Italy, Germany – every nation represented within this body does."

Lucas' eyes flashed dangerously. "I would rather you not address me so candidly, Dumbledore."

The old man merely smiled benignly before taking his seat back in his comfy chair. "My point still stands."

Amelia saw someone, a woman, what it seemed to be closely related to the Premier Mage, bend over and whisper harshly in Lucas' ear and slowly, the anger rising in the young man's eyes dissipated.

Lucas took a breath. "Britain's internal affairs ceased being solely Britain's concern zhe moment its new apprentice began leaving bodies behind him. One of zhem was my own…"

"Like I said before, Harry Potter defended innocent people from terrorists," Amelia reiterated sharply. She was beginning to tire of this dance. "What happened to Jacques Rousseau and the other countless British Auros is beyond tragic, but I would remind this chamber that it was because of Lord Potter that two high profile criminals who had escaped Azkaban was killed. One of them, Rabastan Lestrange, brother-in-law to Bellatrix Lestrange and if that name isn't familiar to you… maybe this one is – Fenrir Greyback – the very same werewolf who terrorised multiple ICW countries for over two decades, was also killed by Lord Potter."

That had the reaction Amelia was hoping for.

Whispers descended almost immediately. For over twenty years, Greyback had ravaged magical communities across Europe. Children disappeared near forest borders. Entire hamlets in Eastern Europe had been abandoned because of him. Amelia still remembered reading reports from Norway where parents had locked their children inside their family vaults deep within Gringotts during each full moon. It was surreal.

"So… it's true then?"

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Reinhardt Krieger of Germany!"

Amelia turned towards the new speaker and saw the German Premier Mage leaning forward in his seat, thick arms crossed over his broad chest. Reinhardt Krieger looked carved from stone itself. Towering even while seated; the man's scarred face remained unreadable though his pale eyes had sharpened considerably at the mention of Greyback.

The redhead swallowed. Every alarm bell in her mind was blaring all out once.

This man was dangerous. Very dangerous.

"It is… confirmed," she replied evenly. "Fenrir Greyback was identified and later processed at the scene by my Department of Mysteries. The werewolf's decapitated head has been handed over to Norway. It was there, after all, he began his terror."

"Hm."

That singular sound seemed to carry more weight than half the chamber's speeches combined. Across from him, another Premier Mage stirred.

"And Rabastan Lestrange is dead, you say?"

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Vittorio Moretti of Italy!"

Premier Mage Vittorio Moretti of Italy was an older wizard with silver-threaded black hair swept neatly behind his ears and dark robes lined with maroon stitching. Unlike Krieger's brutal physicality or Catalina's oppressive aura, Vittorio carried himself with effortless aristocratic grace which greatly eased Amelia. The man looked more like an opera conductor than one of the deadliest wizards alive.

"Dead," Amelia answered.

Vittorio's brows lifted.

"Well." He leaned back with a soft sigh. "That alone would earn the boy medals in certain parts of my country."

Several other delegates reluctantly agreed.

"Medals for killing?" Lucas interjected coolly. "Please be zerious, Vittorio."

" – For ending monsters," Vittorio corrected without missing a beat. "Greyback especially had been terrorising part of the Continent for almost as long as you've been alive. There is a difference, Lucas."

The young French Premier Mage's golden eyes narrowed faintly. "And who determines where zhat distinction begins?"

"If you don't know the answer to that, perhaps you still haven't experienced much of the world."

A subtle tension rippled between the gathered Premier Mages. It was clear to Amelia that there was some sort of history at play between them though what it was, she didn't have the foggiest.

"I believe, the concern is not that this Potter killed Greyback or these terrorists… it is that he did so at the mere humble age of sixteen. Quite remarkable indeed!"

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Kaede Himura of Japan!"

Premier Mage Kaede Himura of Japan sat with one leg crossed over the other, appearing almost slightly intrigued by the proceedings. Younger than most of the chamber expected from a Premier Mage, she possessed sharp fox-like features and calm dark eyes that Amelia thought was ever so beautiful. Almost as if she might lose herself in them the more she stared and stared and stare – "

" – Be mindful of her eyes, Amelia…"

As if a spell was broken, Amelia blinked hard. She felt slightly disoriented and had to hold herself up on the railing in front of her to regain her balance.

What the hell was that?

"They are naturally hypnotic and can be devasting if one stares at them for far too long," Dumbledore continued sagely as if reading her thoughts. "Observe how everyone avoids her gaze."

And he was right, Amelia noted. Everyone avoided the Japanese Premier Mage's gaze. Well… everyone besides the other Premier Mages that is. As if she could hear, Kaede Himura smiled knowingly and inclined her head with slight apology.

"At sixteen… you too were feared, Albus."

Dumbledore chuckled jovially. "I should hope I have mellowed with age, Kaede."

"Debatable," mentioned Catalina with a snort.

To Amelia's astonishment, Vittorio outright laughed while even Reinhardt's mouth twitched faintly. The sudden familiarity between them was rather startling. And earlier she thought that they wanted to kill each other.

" – If you all are quite done… to compare Harry Potter to Dumbledore… ze comparison is flawed. Mage Dumbledore defeated zhe Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald. Potter has not yet even reached his age of majority," Lucas sneered.

"And yet your concern implies you already believe he could one day stand amongst us," Kaede replied. "Am I correct, Lucas?"

Lucas' jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Isabella informed me Lord Potter shielded civilians from Fiendfyre while simultaneously coordinating an evacuation escape via his elf." Catalina's eyes drifted towards Amelia. "That level of battlefield composure is unusual for someone so young."

Vittorio's eyes turned calculated. "At sixteen, it is monstrous."

"Zhat is precisely why zhis chamber cannot afford complacency." Lucas interjected again. Everyone could tell he was beginning to get annoyed. "Power unchecked has always led to catastrophe. Every age produces another monster because people mistake talent for wisdom and ignore the warning signs. Do I need to remind everyone about Grindelwald or even more recently, the one who calls himself Voldemort," he snorted.

" – And the penny drops…" a deep voice drawled lazily, "this whole thing's gotten considerably more interesting than the paperwork suggested."

"The chamber recognizes Premier Mage William Sayre of the United States of America!"

Broad-shouldered and silver-haired despite not looking much older than his forties, Sayre wore dark navy robes with gold-lined cuffs rolled halfway up his forearms as though he had arrived from somewhere infinitely more important and vastly less boring.

Unlike the others, Amelia noticed, William Sayre radiated almost no visible magic which somehow made him even more unnerving. A cigar floated lazily beside his chair untouched, earning disapproving looks from several delegates. Even Catalina looked particularly close to hexing the man.

Vittorio drummed his fingers on his chair. "You finally decided to grace us with your wisdom, William? And about time to. Awfully quiet, you've been."

William shrugged carelessly. His eyes then slowly drifted towards Dumbledore. "Quite the spectacle your boy, Albus. What's interesting is that you're even more protective of him than when you first brought him before this chamber. Where is the Chosen One?"

"Harry is still in class, attending his studies," Dumbledore chuckled.

"Ah yes. I forgot he's only sixteen." William leaned back into his chair and propped his feet up on the banister. "Sixteen and already kills Greyback, kills the younger Lestrange and apparently survives Fiendyre without wetting himself and lives to tell the tale… he's got – what's it you Brits call it? Bollocks? Potter's got bollocks!"

Amelia and half the room rolled their eyes at the man's eccentrics.

"My funny humour aside… what can you tell me about this Voldemort gentleman?"

And just like that, the very slight, easy atmosphere was gone. Everyone looked uneasy, no one more than Amelia.

"Voldemort's return was confirmed over a year ago," she stated stiffly. "And since then, Britain has repeatedly requested international assistance. Assistance which, I might add, has been largely ignored."

"That is because," Anton Vogel interjected with a negligent wave of his hand, "many nations do not yet view this conflict as an international war."

Amelia rounded on him instantly.

"And what exactly would qualify, Minister Vogel?" she snapped. "How many bodies? How many massacres? How many more attacks before this chamber stops pretending this is contained?"

William Sayre whistled lowly. "Your new Minister's got some fire in her, Albus."

Amelia ignored him.

" – Germany and it's allies do not dictate Britain's internal security matters nor how they handle internal affairs," Anton droned. "We are not responsible – "

The German Minister stiffened when Reinhardt beside him held up a meaty hand.

"I fought Voldemort once," he said bluntly. "Twenty years ago, in Hanover. He killed thirteen of my men in under a minute before fighting me into a standstill… to this day, I still do not know why he was in my country. I wish I could rip the sinew from his very bones for what he did to my men but nevertheless, I know my limits… and the duty I must uphold to my people… Germany is fortunate he obsesses over Britain."

"Have you lost your touch, Reinhardt?" William questioned mockingly.

The German Premier Mage gave his colleague a humourless smile. "If you had fought him yourself, perhaps you'd understand, William."

" – France remembers Grindelwald. We remember what happens when dark men wage wars beyond zheir borders." Lucas turned to Amelia and Dumbledore, the latter who had his eyes closed as if he already knew the answer. "But our laws are absolute and zhe answer will be zhe same. Zhis remains Britain's responsibility and zheir war until zhe moment Voldemort steps beyond your borders."

Amelia felt like she was going to explode. "That is a cowardly answer!"

Lucas narrowed his eyes almost instantly and Amelia only just realised what she had just said.

" – One mere dark wizard is not enough to change written law."

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Mei Xiu of China!"

Heads turned toward the eastern side of the chamber where Premier Mage Mei Xiu sat with perfect posture, her long black robes untouched by even a wrinkle. Unlike the others, she looked almost bored by the proceedings, but the power of her magic flowed like a boundless river. It was so visceral that Amelia's eyes were beginning to water the longer she stared.

"China agrees with France. The ICW exists to preserve balance, Madam Bones." Mei said calmly. "Needlessly deploying a Premier Mage into another magical country opens the door for future issues."

" – And if Voldemort destabilises Britain entirely?" Catalina challenged. Amelia was thankful that there was at least someone on her side.

"The balance will adjust accordingly, Catalina."

The bluntness of Mei's answer made several delegates rather uncomfortable. But the silence didn't last long.

"Well," William Sayre drawled. "We have heard from a couple of our colleagues although some have remained remarkably silent… ice frozen your tongue, Sergei?"

" – What is more to say, American?"

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Sergei Volkov of Russia!"

Amelia's very first impression of the man was that he felt cold. Rather ironic but it was undeniable. Massive even by Reinhardt's standards; the man possessed harsh, brutal features clearly weathered by both age and no doubt conflict. Thick streaks of grey cut through his dark beard while a long scar disappeared beneath the collar of his heavy black coat.

Amelia noticed even Lucas White avoided looking at him directly for too long.

"One of Voldemort's men was Antonin Dolohov, no?" William had a sly smirk on his face. "Curious, no?"

He's intentionally provoking him… Amelia intoned with annoyance.

"Antonin Dolohov ceased being Russian the day he abandoned country. He was stripped of title, family, citizenship."

"That does not answer the question, Sergei, and you know it."

Sergei stared at him for several long seconds before slowly rising on his feet. The air suddenly began frosting as his crystal blue eyes began to glow.

"Then perhaps ask better question."

William chuckled though everyone could see challenge in his eyes as he stood up too. Both men sized each other up and looked as if they were going to go at it like a pair of feral wolves.

" – Gentlemen…" Dumbledore reprimanded disappointedly as if he was addressing a pair of students who were misbehaving. "Please act accordingly."

Though both Premier Mages' eyes flashed with anger at being spoken to as if they were children, neither said a word as they regained their seat.

"If you are both done," Catalina glared at the pair of Premier Mages who ignored her, she turned her gaze to another corner of the room. "Devendra… you haven't voiced your opinion yet…?"

Premier Mage Devendra Rao of India adjusted the absurdly elaborate golden shawl draped over one shoulder before gracefully standing. If Amelia had to surmise, the man was in his late thirties perhaps even younger. Rings adorned nearly every finger while peacock-bright robes shimmered faintly beneath the chamber lights. Despite the flamboyant attire, the unmistakable power simmering underneath made her hairs stand up in attention.

"The chamber recognises Premier Mage Devendra Rao of India!"

"Britain's internal conflict does not presently concern India or her people."

And with that, the Mage promptly sat down.

Lucas blinked. "Zhat's it?"

Vittorio looked profoundly dissatisfied. "You have no thoughts whatsoever regarding a sixteen-year-old apprentice killing terrorists?"

"Many sixteen-year-olds kill in war." The Indian Premier Mage's gaze shifted meaningfully towards Dumbledore. "Whether Lord Potter becomes protector or destroyer is irrelevant at present. The deciding factor will not be his strength but those who shape him."

For the first time since the discussion began, Dumbledore's smile dimmed slightly.

Anton Vogel took that moment to stand up rather pompously. "Permission to speak, Madam Speaker."

"You never asked before you opened your trap… go ahead," the elderly woman sighed.

"It is a good point that Premier Mage Rao has brought up… The concern many within this chamber share is not simply that Lord Potter killed. It is what he represents. A politically shielded child to two ancient houses that holds considerable power. We can agree that he had killed terrorists… very well. But experiencing such devastation at an early age is known to disrupt someone's mental capacities and with that person being someone like Potter – who is known for his instability… the results can be catastrophic."

He began slowly pacing the centre aisle as he spoke.

"But the question we must ask ourselves ladies and gentlemen… who made him this way?"

Amelia felt her stomach tighten. She, like the others who had pieced together what the German was saying, turned to Dumbledore and saw no hint of surprise or animosity. Frustratingly, the man looked completely serene.

"I do not wish to hurry you, Minister Vogel, but I do have a school to run after all," Dumbledore commented mildly.

Vogel forced a smile. "I am merely implying, Supreme Mugwump, that perhaps this chamber's confidence in your leadership is no longer what it once was."

The chamber erupted instantly.

Amelia slammed her hand on the banister. "This is outrageous!"

"I am merely relaying what I have heard from our fellow peers, Madam Bones. Magical civilians look to us to ensure our continued survivability and prosperity. With the recent decisions the Supreme Mugwump has made, perhaps the best course of action was to listen to our gut feeling last year when he was removed."

"You opportunistic little – "

"Madam Bones," the Speaker interrupted loudly, though even she looked rattled by the sudden escalation. "Order! Order, I say!"

Dumbledore slowly rose to his feet and just like that, the chamber quietened once more.

"I have held the office of Supreme Mugwump for many years," he said peacefully. "Long enough to understand when political tides have begun shifting."

His gaze drifted across the room, lingering momentarily upon Vogel.

"If this chamber believes new leadership necessary, then so be it."

"Albus," Amelia hissed incredulously. "You cannot seriously mean to simply hand him the position!"

"My dear Amelia," Dumbledore replied softly, "positions such as these are never truly ours to keep. Besides, it is high time I begin to get my affairs in order…"

Before Amelia could question him on what he meant, the Speaker cleared her throat.

"With Mage Dumbledore's verbal resignation, per ICW Charter, a formal vote of confidence shall now be conducted…"

What followed made Amelia feel ill.

Delegates who had spent years praising Dumbledore suddenly avoided looking towards the British benches entirely.

Others took to whispering behind raised hands. That, however, was nothing to the handful of individuals who openly sided with Vogel immediately. Amelia had no doubt their support was purchased long before this session had even begun.

She cursed herself. This entire summons had been pre-planned… Due to Potter's actions, those that despised Magical Britain found an opening to weaken us even more so than we are currently!

When Britain's traditional allies started abstaining rather than supporting Dumbledore outright, Amelia knew it was over. Minutes later, the Speaker rose slowly from her seat.

"The motion… passes."

Brittle silence swept the chamber.

"Effective immediately, Albus Dumbledore is hereby removed from the office of Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. Further proceedings regarding succession shall now commence."

" – We, the Austrian Ministry formally nominates Minister Anton Vogel of Germany."

" – As do we!"

"And we!"

"We too!"

The voting that followed was quicker. Dumbledore offered no resistance whatsoever which, more than anything else, unnerved Amelia deeply. As if he didn't care anymore and perhaps, he didn't. There were more pressing matters to deal with after all.

"By majority vote of the International Confederation of Wizards, Minister Anton Vogel of the German Ministry is hereby appointed Supreme Mugwump."

Scattered applause echoed awkwardly throughout the chamber but most remained silent. They knew this entire election was a farse anyway.

Anton Vogel, the slimy git that he was, smiled beguilingly. "Your support and trust in me, means everything. I will strive to do what is right for our countries where my ancestors before, failed in. Together, we will enter an age of peace and tranquillity under my leadership."

The once scattered applause slowly began to ascend into something more and Amelia decided it was time to go. If she remained a second longer in the same room as Anton Vogel, she was positive she'd do something she'd regret. As if Dumbledore could read her thoughts, he stood up too.

"Let us depart, Amelia. It's time to go home."

Though the day here was finally over, hell was waiting for her back at home.

CwD