Chapter 4

Daphne groaned as she returned to the waking world. She promptly rolled over and retched violently. Her body was shaking, and she was drenched in sweat. Her head felt as if it was being split in two. She whimpered.

"Miss Greengrass," the voice of Dumbledore came from somewhere to her right. "What happened?"

"My head…" She coughed. A blanket was draped over her, and the vomit vanished. Daphne felt her stomach lurch and dry heaved several times. She was helped to a sitting position by Madam Pomfrey. Professor Snape was off to her left and kept the student body away. Astoria sat down next to Daphne and grabbed one of her hands, wearing an expression a mixture of concern and irritation.

"Was it true?" Astoria questioned loud enough to be heard over the general murmuring of the great hall.

Daphne attempted to school her expression, but her bottom lip kept trembling and her face twitched from the effort. She bit her bottom lip, but unwanted tears still spilled. She took a shaky breath.

"I don't remember."

Dumbledore and Snape shared a look.

"I don't understand," Daphne said in a small voice.

"Severus," Dumbledore called. "It appears the memory will not continue unless we return to our seats. It seems Harry wants us to witness what he has to share. Please have Miss Greengrass join you when she is able. I believe it will be best for her safety."

"Daph," Astoria squeezed the hand she was holding to get her sister's attention. "What don't you remember?"

Daphne was shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering, and clutched the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Madam Pomfrey bustled about her, muttering, and waving her wand.

"I- " Daphne's voice cracked and she cleared her throat. She continued in a watery voice, "I don't remember that night, Tori. It's nowhere in my mind. As far as I know, it never happened."

Astoria leaned forward. "What about what you said. About… The letters." She swallowed heavily. "And father?"

Daphne flinched involuntarily and repeated "I don't remember that night, Tori."

"But is what you said true?"

She nodded once.

"So you do remember getting Harry's letters?"

Another nod.

"And you do remember father burning them?"

Daphne's shoulders bobbed once with a repressed sob.

"Oh, Daph," Astoria sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Daphne shook her head, tears starting to spill once more. "Why would I?" she questioned in a choked voice. "I remember the letters annoying me. I was glad father burned them. Then, they stopped coming summer after our first year."

"But what about mother?"

"I don't remember, Tori," Daphne pleaded.

Madam Pomfrey helped Daphne to her feet and motioned to the staff table where Snape had conjured a chair for Daphne. She began making her way there, clutching the blanket to her body, and not bothering to hide her tears, puffy eyes, or dripping nose which she wiped with the back of her sleeve. What was the point of cleaning up? She knew she would be shedding more tears.

"Is what you said about father true, Daph?" Astoria called.

She paused briefly and looked over her shoulder. "Yes. Even though I don't remember that conversation with Harry, what I said was true."

"Daph, I- "

Daphne began walking away. "It doesn't change what I said or did to him, Tori."

Astoria watched Daphne walk away before moving back to the Gryffindor table.

Daphne sat and looked up to see the screen begin shimmering.

What else will I see that I can't remember?

The screen flashed August 19, 1992. Harry was lying on his bed. Thus far, he'd avoided any further incidents with the Dursley's, and was still riding the high of getting to see Daphne for his birthday. His summer was about to get so much better. He got up and double-checked the charm he'd bought Daphne for her birthday. He didn't bother with a letter now that he knew her father was burning them.

Instead, he wrote a small note and placed the charm, a small emerald encased in goblin silver in the shape of a heart, in a small box and sent Hedwig off with instructions to deliver it directly to Daphne and no one else. He heard a commotion downstairs and ignored it, having already cooked breakfast.

Vernon hollering for him caused him to sigh and head on down to see what the ruckus was about. As he cleared the last stair he paused in shock. Standing in the doorway were Fred and George Weasley, and an older man who had to be their father, judging by his balding head.

"Harry," the twins greeted simultaneously.

"Fred, George," Harry said dumbly.

"Hello, Harry," the older man approached. "Arthur Weasley."

Harry shook the proffered hand.

"Dumbledore asked for us to get you and take you to Diagon Alley for your school supplies. You also have the option to stay with us until term starts if you prefer."

Harry didn't even have to think about it. Freedom from the Dursley's? Hell yes. Where did he sign?

"I'll be right back," and he bolted up the stairs, leaving the twins and Arthur in the foyer.

He kept everything in his trunk, so it was a simple matter of closing it, activating the shrinking rune, and pocketing it. He made sure he had his school supplies list for second year, then he rubbed out a corner rune to deactivate the ward for his trunk. It would be easy enough to reactivate when he returned next summer, Merlin forbid. He grabbed Hedwig's cage and headed down.

"All set," he assured.

"Excellent! It really was a pleasure to meet you. What did you say your name was again?"

Vernon purpled. "I didn't."

"Ah, a pity. Perhaps next time then," Mr. Weasley turned. "Come along, Fred, George."

Harry crossed the threshold and turned to his uncle. "See you."

Vernon slammed the door in his face.

"Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Weasley," Harry said.

"It's our pleasure, Harry," Arthur replied. "Fred and George speak very highly of you. I'm not sure if that's necessarily a good thing, based on their history at Hogwarts…"

"Not to worry, father," George called.

"Harry here is just a natural at runes and wards," Fred finished.

"I'm not that good," Harry mumbled.

"Not yet, no," they said together. "But you will be."

"I'm going to catch up with Molly," Arthur informed. "It's Ginny's first year, so she'll be manic, I'm sure." He turned to the twins. "I'm taking Harry with me. I'll be right back for you two."

Mr. Weasley turned on his heel with Harry. There was the feeling of being squeezed through a tube and then Harry found himself standing outside the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley. He felt woozy and unsteady on his feet. Arthur placed a hand on Harry's shoulder to anchor him. Harry flinched unconsciously.

"It gets easier over time," Arthur assured.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Harry retorted, his stomach flopping. Mr. Weasley apparated away once more, returning half a minute later with Fred and George.

"Boys, take Harry to Gringotts and then help him get his supplies," Arthur called over his shoulder as he began walking away. "We'll meet up at Fortescue's in four hours."

Fred and George saluted before guiding Harry toward the tall white building.

"So, Harry," George said conversationally, "how has summer been?"

Harry thought about Daphne. Her hugging him. The pleasant shiver that ran up his arms at the remembrance of that last hug. Her beautiful smile.

"Brilliant," Harry said with a small smile.

Harry went down to his vault and gathered as many galleons as he thought he'd need for the year before beginning his shopping spree for second year. The book list was confusing, since seven of the eight required books were all from someone named Gilderoy Lockhart. Flourish and Blotts was a nightmare. Apparently, Lockhart was doing a book signing and every witch within apparating distance was here today.

Not interested in getting anything signed, Harry wormed his way inside and gathered his books and paid. There were too many people for him to browse other sections. On his way out, Harry watched an altercation between Mr. Weasley and what had to be Draco Malfoy's father, since Draco was standing nearby sneering.

It took Lockhart himself to break it up, and Harry got his first real look at the man. He wasn't sure if it was his smile or eyes, but something about the feathered blond hair and the way the man carried himself made Harry uncomfortable. He snuck out as the attention was on the commotion, realizing he was breathing rather heavily. Fred and George stood outside conversing and waiting for him.

"Crazy in there?" Fred chortled.

"Yeah," Harry gasped. "Saw your dad get in a fight with Malfoy."

"That git," George spat.

"Wicked to the core," Fred added.

They finished shopping and had roughly two hours to themselves. Harry found a secluded bench and began reading while Fred and George explored the nearby Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry had become a voracious reader after last year; his Occlumency exercises had rapidly increased how fast he could consume, retain, and recall information.

Therefore, when Fred and George returned half an hour later, they found Harry already halfway through Travels with Trolls. Harry appeared contemplative as Fred and George took a seat on either side of him.

"Can you believe that blowhard?" George chuckled, causing Harry to look up.

"Sorry?" Harry scrunched his face in confusion.

"Lockhart," Fred gestured to the book. "Our new DADA instructor."

"Seeing as how Quirrell vanished end of last term," George added.

Harry shuddered as he remembered his last encounter with Quirrell.

"Well," Harry attempted to answer the original question from George. "No, I don't think I do believe him. I mean, having fought a Mountain Troll, I can tell you that in no way can you 'stun them seconds before being turned into blood paste'." He read that last part aloud. "Honestly, it feels like this is more of a fairy tale book than a textbook. I've not read a single thing in here that could be used in a real duel."

"You hear that, Fred?"

"Sounds like our Harry has some experience in such things, George."

Harry blushed. "I did have dueling lessons with Professor Flitwick."

"And, in your expert- " George began.

"I'm not an expert," Harry interrupted.

"Opinion," Fred continued, "you believe that Lockhart will be…"

"Bollocks?" George presented.

"Bollocks, at teaching?" Fred finished.

Harry frowned.

"I'm not passing judgement," he shook his head pensively. "If the other books are like this one, then it's probably safe to assume there won't be much to learn in DADA this year." He sighed. "Based on their titles, I have no reason to believe they won't be exactly like this one."

Harry bookmarked his place and closed the book with a thwap!

"But you'll read them all, anyway, won't you?" George laughed.

Harry shrugged.

"Mental, this one," Fred gestured.

"Ah!" Harry cried, suddenly inspired. He stood and turned to regard both twins, still seated, on the bench. "Do either of you have your book lists from last year?"

"We do," they both responded.

"Can I see them?"

"When we get home," they said.

Harry lowered his shoulders in defeat.

"You do realize the books on our lists may not be what you'll have on yours next year?" Fred asked.

"You mean the elective courses?" Harry looked up. "What did you two take?"

"Study of Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures," they echoed.

"Do you know anyone who took Arithmancy?" Harry questioned.

"We do."

Harry grinned mischievously, "I've got ten galleons for those book lists."

Fred and George sat straighter. "Give us two days, and we'll have them."

"We'll need to come back to Flourish and Blotts." Harry prompted.

"No problem."

"Great!" Harry clapped his hands. "That will solve any upcoming issues with lack of teaching in DADA. Quirrell may have been…" He trailed off.

"Strange?"

"Smelly?"

"Sure," Harry shrugged. "But he did suggest a good book for first year."

"Let's head over to the cauldron and grab a drink." Fred said as he and George stood and guided Harry back into the crowd.

They worked their way toward the entrance of the Alley. Harry always enjoyed the magical world and found great joy in staring at the various folk around him. Fred exclaiming drew his attention away from a darker alley that people seemed to avoid.

"Oi, Fred, is that Aria Greengrass?" George gestured off to their left at a small café with outdoor seating.

Harry felt his heart attempt to jump from his chest and felt blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Sure is, George," Fred confirmed and whistled. "She is quite a looker, isn't she?"

"Daughter is in Harry's year, I believe," George muttered, both having lowered their voices, but loud enough so Harry could hear.

"Slytherin, if I recall," Fred trailed off. "Struggling with the name."

George whistled. "Well, I'll bet that's her," he pointed. "Quite the looker!"

"You'd think we'd remember the name," Fred grunted. "All the pranks we pull on the snakes."

"Starts with an A?" George prompted.

"Nah," Fred waved it off. "I'm thinking a B."

"Crack on," George chuckled. "C!"

"Daphne," Harry interjected and slipped away.

"Daphne! That's the one!" The twins cried exuberantly, causing her to look around the crowd for the person shouting her name. They both winced and ducked into the throng.

"Good memory, Harry," Fred praised.

"Thought we were going to have to go through the entire alphabet," George looked down and whirled around in shock. "Uh, Gred?"

"Yes, Forge?"

"I think we misplaced Harry."

"Ah shite."

While the twins were panicking, Harry made his way over to the café, being careful to keep out of direct line of sight. He noted Daphne was having a cup of tea with her mother. The two had clearly been shopping based on the bags sitting on the ground near the table. Daphne, as always, looked radiant. Her golden blonde hair was straight and cascaded past her shoulders. She seemed relaxed, but the small smile Daphne had didn't quite reach her eyes, Harry thought.

He approached the register and, after a lengthy debate, finally managed to convince the man to let him pay for the Greengrass ladies. Satisfied, he turned and slunk back into the crowd. He didn't make it far before he was accosted by the twins.

"Look what we've found!" Fred crowed.

"Sneaky, sneaky, Mister Potter," George tutted.

"And what, pray tell, were you up to, Harry?"

"N-nothing," Harry stammered. "I, uh, lost sight of you two." He nodded as if that was a good enough explanation.

"We could fry an egg on his face," Fred turned to his twin.

"This bears further investigation," George agreed.

The two hoisted Harry from under his arms and made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. All the while, Harry protested his innocence and that it wasn't what it looked like.

August 26, 1992, flashed across the screen. Harry was enjoying a quiet moment in the room he shared with Ron and reflecting on the last week. The twins, of course, had dressed him down about Daphne until he'd finally come clean that she was his friend. They gave him a strange look at that confession but stopped taking the mickey out of him.

Ron had been in an overall good mood, due to the sudden resurgence of the Chudley Cannons. They were, for the first time in years, no longer dead last. Still bottom five, but not dead last. This meant Ron would prattle off stats, player names, and recent plays at random intervals, often when Harry was attempting to read. Harry loved Quidditch, and was looking forward to playing again this year, but he liked other things too. Like silence, which was in short supply.

Mrs. Weasley was overbearing, loud, and convinced he was half-starved (she wasn't wrong) and needed to eat triple portions every meal. Harry constantly felt he needed carried up the stairs to Ron's room after a meal. It was a nice change from the Dursley's, though.

Ginny was an anomaly. Every time she saw Harry, she would turn beet red and bolt the opposite direction. This led to some epic collisions with furniture, stairs, support beams, and Mrs. Weasley. When she did manage to speak, which was rare, Harry found her nice enough. Those few times she either didn't realize or forgot Harry was in the room showed that Ginny had inherited her mother's demeanor and temper. It also explained why her brother's feared her so much.

The Weasley Harry got along with the most, outside of the twins, was Percy. Harry at first thought this odd because Percy reminded him quite a bit of Malfoy in how he portrayed himself. A couple of conversations, however, revealed that Percy was both highly intelligent and driven. Frankly, Harry thought Percy should have been a Slytherin. Percy always liked quiet and had managed to insulate his room rather well against the noise of the house.

Harry spent a fair amount of time the last week in Percy's room, where he could read undisturbed. The only sound his and Percy's breathing and the scratch of Percy's quill as he wrote letters along with studying. Harry respected Percy's privacy and didn't bother trying to find out who he was writing to, something Percy noted and appreciated.

Harry was rummaging through his trunk for his main Occlumency book, intent on reading and working on some mental defenses, when he saw his invisibility cloak and grabbed it. He draped it over his head and closed his eyes. Sometimes, when he did this, he almost felt as if his father was standing there embracing him. Other times, he thought he could still smell a hint of strawberry or lemon.

He stood there for a couple of minutes, reminiscing about that night with Daphne, until he frowned.

There has to be a better way to use this thing, Harry thought. I'm having a hard time believing dad just draped this over himself like some cheap imitation of a ghost.

Harry closed his eyes once more and focused on the cloak, attempting to sense any touches of magic. After several minutes of concentration, he felt a tiny drop of magic that seemed just out of reach. Every time he made to interact with it, it pulled away further. Frustrated, Harry pushed harder, only to find it retreat more. Sweat dripped off his forehead from the chase, and Harry felt both fatigue and anger. Why would the cloak resist him?

Enough! Harry thought firmly. Stop avoiding me!

And the magic stopped. Surprised, Harry reached out with his mind and grabbed the tiny drop. It felt unnaturally cold. In a strange way, it was comforting, and Harry felt his breathing even out and his body relax now that the chase was done.

It feels almost familiar.

The magic trembled with anticipation. Harry felt a nudge against his core. Instinct drove Harry in that moment, as the cloak called to a deeper part of him that he didn't understand. He knew what to think but was unsure how or why he knew.

Cloak.

And the cloak shifted. Harry felt its weight around his shoulders and his upper back. The cloak fell away from his face, allowing him to see clearly once more. He looked down to see it had shrunk to his size, no longer dragging the floor. What once had been more like an invisibility blanket was now a true and proper cloak with a hood.

"Whoa," Harry breathed. "Now that's more like it!"

He stepped over to a nearby mirror and inspected himself. The cloak was held together by a brooch in the form of a triangle with a circle and line. Harry could see himself just fine in the mirror, and the cloak still had its silver-blue color that sparkled with hidden light. Curious, he lifted the hood over his head.

His reflection disappeared.

Harry gasped in surprise and lowered the hood. His reflection greeted him once more.

After some brief testing, Harry found that, so long as the hood was up, his body was invisible, even if not within the confines of the cloak. He also found that he could revert the cloak back to its blanket form by commanding it to become, well, a blanket. Harry was confused why his dad would have given Dumbledore this wonderful cloak, and even more so why it was given in its blanket form. A small suspicion in the back of Harry's mind told him it was because his dad didn't fully trust Dumbledore.

The testing also revealed that the hood could be commanded to stick. Harry found that no amount of movement could cause the hood to fall away. One of the immediate advantages that came to mind once Harry had successfully tested this, was that he could move fluidly while invisible.

He lowered the hood just in time for Ron to enter. The redhead cocked an eyebrow at Harry who, as far as he could tell, was admiring himself in the mirror.

"Channeling your inner Lockhart?" Ron deadpanned.

"Checking out my cloak," Harry retorted.

"You're not wearing a cloak, mate," Ron informed confusedly.

"Yes, I am," Harry assured. He reached behind and grabbed the edge of his cloak, holding it out. "See?"

"No," Ron backed up a step. "All I see is you holding your hand out with nothing in it."

Harry frowned.

"Really?"

"You sure you're alright?" Ron pressed nervously.

Harry huffed. "Come here a second, Ron."

Ron edged forward nervously.

"You mean you can't grab or pull on anything between my arms right now?" Harry questioned as he grabbed his cloak in both hands and stretched his arms behind his back. He balked when Ron's hand passed right through where the cloak was.

"I think you might be mental," Ron chuckled. "Fred and George are waiting for you downstairs."

He really can't see or feel my cloak? Harry thought in bewilderment. What exactly is this thing?

"Last question, Ron," Harry promised as he made his way to the door. "Do you see anything on my back?"

"Just your shirt," Ron shrugged.

"Thanks," Harry left and called out as he started down the stairs, "Go Cannons!"

The screen dimmed and Daphne breathed a sigh of relief. The one memory involving her she did in fact remember. Her mother had been pleasantly surprised to find their tea and snacks paid for. Try as she might, their mysterious benefactor's identity had never been discovered. Of course, it would be Harry.

The revelation didn't make Daphne feel any better, and she almost wished Harry hadn't shown it. She was grateful, though, because it gave her a small amount of confidence that not all her memories had been warped.

September 1, 1992, appeared on the screen and Harry sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, happily reading The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2. He had up to Grade 4 now, thanks to Fred and George accompanying him back to Diagon Alley one last time.

On that trip he had also procured the beginning books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Study of Ancient Runes. He'd also gotten a book titled, The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts which he felt would be far more informative than the fiction Lockhart wrote. Harry did have to admit Lockhart's books were entertaining, in a sad sort of way. Watching Mrs. Weasley attempt one of the cleaning spells from Gadding with Ghouls had been a cringe moment, though.

A sudden crack! caused Harry to jump back in his seat. Across from him stood Dobby, grabbing his ears, and looking around nervously.

"Hey, Dobby," Harry waved, preparing to go back to his book.

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter once more!" The Elf cried before charging the wall and colliding with it, hard.

Harry sighed over the shouts of, "Bad Dobby!" and reached over to jerk Dobby by the collar of the ragged sackcloth he'd fashioned into a shirt.

"Enough, Dobby!" Harry commanded. "Last time you warned me I got a mouthful of blood, so you'll forgive me for not wanting to continue this conversation further!"

"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter," Dobby said sadly.

"You did give me a great birthday gift," Harry attempted to cheer up the house-elf.

"Would Dobby like to see Miss Daffy once more?" Dobby questioned hopefully.

"No!" Harry said quickly, although his heart did beat faster at the thought. "I mean, of course I would. It's just... I can't. We can't."

"Dobby understands, Sir, but Harry Potter must be warned. There is a great danger at Hogwarts. A very evil plan by very bad people."

He suddenly clutched his throat and started banging his head against the wall, gasping heavily.

"What kind of plan, Dobby?" Harry knelt and pulled the elf from the wall.

"Can't say," Dobby wailed. "Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts!"

Harry snorted agitatedly. "A little late for that, Dobby."

Dobby suddenly had a manic gleam in his eyes. "Late," he said the word, almost as if tasting it.

"Uh…" Harry backed away slowly.

"Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts," Dobby said firmly. "Dobby hates to do this to the Great Harry Potter, but it is for his own safety. Dobby will iron his hands after as punishment."

Harry, sensing danger, dove for the compartment door. Unfortunately, he was too slow and felt Dobby grab him. The sickening sensation of being squeezed through a tube occurred and Harry fell the final two feet onto his bed at 4 Privet Drive. He jumped to his feet to find Dobby gone, and the house eerily quiet. He pulled his hood up on the invisibility cloak he had taken to always wearing, except when showering, and made his way downstairs.

I'm going to kill that elf the next time I see him, Harry swore in his mind.

He checked the time on the kitchen stove; it was 12:30pm.

Okay, so that's not bad. The Express arrives at Hogsmeade Station at 5pm.

It then sank in that he had no way of getting back. He couldn't apparate (as he'd learned it was called from Mr. Weasley). 4 Privet Drive definitely wasn't connected to the Floo Network. It didn't even have a fireplace. His broom was in his trunk, so he couldn't fly; he also had no idea which direction to go, even if he could.

Hearing the back door rattle, Harry bolted upstairs and back to his room, where he sat on his bed in thought. Despair began to creep in as he heard someone bustling about the kitchen. He didn't want to be here. Today was supposed to be a happy day. It suddenly occurred to him he still had a death grip on both his wand and the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2. At least he wasn't defenseless.

There was a crack! and a feminine squeak and Harry was buried, once again, under a curtain of golden blonde hair. They both worked to untangle themselves, taking far too long and making too much noise. Daphne, finally getting her hair out of her eyes, began to open her mouth to chasten her friend when realization hit her.

Harry watched Daphne's eyes widen in terror as they heard heavy footfalls climbing stairs.

Blanket! Harry screamed in his mind, ripping his cloak from his neck. He pulled Daphne forward and wrapped his arms around her as he threw himself flat on the bed underneath the cloak.

Vernon entered the room two seconds later, glancing around suspiciously. Harry and Daphne held their breath. Harry had taken the extra precaution of putting his hand over Daphne's mouth. He felt her trembling and tightened his arms around her.

After what seemed an eternity, Vernon huffed, muttered something about freaks, and stomped downstairs once more. They heard Petunia call from the garden and Vernon holler something unintelligible. Both sighed in relief and Harry loosened his hold. Daphne was still trembling.

"Why are we here?" Daphne hissed.

"Dobby," Harry whispered back.

"I'm going to kill that elf!"

"Elf!" Harry brightened. "We can use yours! What was her name? Tipsy?"

"We can't," Daphne shushed Harry. "If father found out, I'd be in trouble."

"Oh," Harry deflated.

She looked up at the invisibility cloak they were under. It was surprising how cool it felt, despite their proximity.

"Do you have your wand?" Daphne questioned.

Harry nodded and shuffled, pulling it out of his front jean pocket before asking, "You?"

She nodded. "We can take the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley."

"Great!" Harry smiled. "How do we do that?"

"Well, it starts with us getting out of here," Daphne whispered dryly.

They suddenly realized their close proximity and blushed furiously. Daphne scrambled off Harry, taking the cloak with her. He was once again surprised to note it worked for her. She disentangled from it and handed it back to Harry who took it and gestured toward the window.

"Are you serious?!" Daphne questioned incredulously.

"We can't go out the front door!" Harry protested. "They'll assume it has something to do with me and I'll feel every bit of their anger when I get back next summer!"

Daphne winced.

"Trust me," Harry pleaded. "I won't let you get hurt, Daphne."

She bit her lower lip and nodded.

Harry quietly opened the window and stepped out onto the roof, holding his hand out for Daphne. She took it with a death grip, not letting go. It made closing the window difficult.

"You're going to have to let go of my hand," Harry cautioned.

She nodded and did so. He then grabbed the ledge, hung, and dropped the final five feet, purposely falling on his rear to absorb the impact. Daphne, already terrified, looked close to tears.

"Just do the same thing," Harry called softly. "I'll catch you."

"Are you crazy?!" Daphne retorted.

"Trust me," Harry repeated. "I will catch you."

Daphne gulped and mimicked Harry, grabbing the ledge and dropping her legs over. The moment her feet were free, her hands slipped and she fell with a scream. Harry caught her and they collapsed on the ground. Harry quickly had his cloak over them so they could recover.

He scanned the neighborhood; thankful it was a Tuesday and folks were at work. After waiting a few minutes, Harry helped Daphne to her feet, keeping them both under the cloak.

"Let's get away from this place and then we can walk without the cloak," he said.

Daphne nodded and kept close to Harry. She was out of her element in the muggle world. He, while not comfortable walking down an unfamiliar street, didn't mind. The closeness was nice, and Daphne, as always, smelled wonderful. Eventually, Harry felt they were far enough away to safely remove the cloak. They ducked behind a fence and pulled it off before moving back down the sidewalk.

Harry sent the cloak back to its native state and it fell over his shoulders once more. He felt Daphne reach for his hand and didn't stop her when she threaded her fingers into his. He stole glances at her from the side of his eye, appreciating her dark blue blouse, muggle jeans and trainers.

"You look beautiful," the words left his mouth, and he instantly wanted them back.

Daphne pinkened. "Thank you."

"How do we call the Knight Bus?" Harry attempted to change subjects.

"This looks like a good spot," Daphne released his hand and held out her wand.

There was a bang! and suddenly a double-decker blue bus appeared. Stan Shunpike, the conductor, helped them on board and Daphne told him their destination while Harry paid for the two of them. Harry asked for the time and was told it was 1:15pm.

The two sat next to each other and began a hushed conversation.

"You mentioned Dobby is the reason we're here?" Daphne prompted.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "He's mental! Keeps saying I'm in danger and he has to protect me. How he thought sending me back there was protecting me is beyond me!"

"Did he say what he was protecting you from?"

A sudden sharp turn caused Daphne to almost fall into Harry's lap. He braced so they didn't go toppling into the floor while the bus centered once more. Daphne, blushing, pushed off his torso.

"He only said it was an evil plan, and it involved Hogwarts," Harry shrugged.

Another sharp turn had Harry leaning into Daphne.

"And he didn't say anything else?" She questioned quietly, her breath tickling his ear.

Harry shivered pleasantly. "Well, he did say the word late before he jumped me. That was after I told him it was a little late for me to not go to Hogwarts, seeing as we were on the Express."

Daphne gasped and clutched Harry's knee. He felt a shockwave of sensation echo through his body.

"That's it! Late!" She exclaimed.

Harry was struggling to maintain cognitive thought. His brain was overloading as Daphne still had not removed her hand.

"Eh?"

"Being late to the opening feast is a violation subject to disciplinary action or expulsion. It says so in the Hogwarts Student Handbook." Daphne's voice fell and she removed her hand from his knee. Harry watched as she nervously twisted her hands in her lap.

"You mean that little bastard is trying to get me expelled?!" Harry snapped, realization suddenly dawning.

"I believe so," Daphne nodded slowly. "But why me?"

The bus gave a loud bang! and Daphne squeaked in surprise, reflexively clutching Harry.

I like this bus, Harry mused happily.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did Dobby send me back too?"

Harry blushed heavily. "I'm not sure, but I have a guess."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Go on."

"Dobby, in his own odd way, is protecting me, yeah?"

Daphne nodded.

"Well wouldn't it make sense that he'd protect someone important to me also? Like my friend?"

Daphne bit her lower lip and turned away to look out the window.

"That makes sense," she replied softly.

Harry let her be, busying himself by looking at some of the other passengers. Most were sleeping or reading newspapers. How they managed to do either of those things was a mystery to Harry. He instinctively flinched when he felt something hit his shoulder. The only thing stopping him from pulling away was Daphne's smell which washed over him as she leaned her head against him.

He glanced over and noticed her eyes were closed, a soft smile on her lips. Her breathing was beginning to even out as she relaxed. Harry knew she had been extremely nervous to be back at 4 Privet Drive, much as he'd been. She also seemed very uncomfortable in muggle areas and had been extremely fidgety until they'd gotten onto the Knight Bus.

The bus shook and Daphne nestled closer, her left hand coming up to rest on his chest where she clenched his shirt in her fist. Harry, not minding, draped his left arm over her, drawing her closer. Daphne sighed gently and her breathing slowed and deepened. An occasional miniscule snore emanated from her.

I've changed my mind, Harry thought contentedly. I'm going to thank Dobby next time I see him.

The Knight Bus stopped at the entrance to Diagon Alley at 2:40pm (according to Stan).

"Five minutes," Daphne protested as Harry attempted to shake her awake.

"We're here, Daphne," Harry persisted.

She lazily opened her eyes and bolted aright upon seeing her position. Harry watched her face turn tomato red and horrified. He followed her eyes down to his shirt to see a healthy sized drool stain. Clearly, Daphne had enjoyed her nap.

"Oh, Morgana!" Daphne buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry!"

Harry reached forward and grabbed her hands, standing and pulling her up. They needed to get off the bus before Mr. Shunpike decided to take off to the next stop.

"It's fine," he assured. "I'm really happy I was a good pillow."

They got off the bus and Harry held her back until it was clear to cover them with the invisibility cloak. He noticed Daphne stood closer than necessary this time but didn't think much of it.

"We can talk to Tom at the Leaky Cauldron," Harry whispered to her. "He was quite nice last year when I met him with Hagrid. I'm sure he'll have a good suggestion and will use discretion."

Daphne nodded, suddenly trepidatious. It didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

"I'll make sure you're not seen," he promised. "If one of us has to reveal ourselves, it will be me. You just stay under the cloak."

He grabbed her hand and entered the Leaky Cauldron. Daphne threaded her fingers through his. They navigated the sitting area slowly and cautiously, careful to stay close and not bump into anyone. Since it was past lunch, it wasn't too busy. Harry shuddered to think of attempting this at peak hours.

It took a few minutes, but they made it to the bar where they slipped to the back. Tom was bustling about the kitchen and Harry pulled the cloak off them.

"Tom," Harry called, causing the man to jump.

"Merlin's beard!" He exclaimed, turning to the sound of the voice. "You're not supposed to be back here…" He trailed off. "Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!"

He waved shyly.

"And who is this lovely lady you have with you?"

Harry flushed and squeezed Daphne's hand when she went to respond. "I'd rather not say, Tom," he stammered. "We're actually in a bit of a bind and need your help."

Tom stared at them shrewdly for a moment before nodding. "How can I help?"

"We need to get to Hogwarts. We, uh…"

"Missed the train," Daphne finished, blushing heavily.

Tom gave a knowing smile and wink. "Best way would be to Floo to Hogsmeade. I would suggest The Three Broomsticks. It's a pub there and Madam Rosmerta is a good woman."

"Thank you, Tom," Harry smiled at him. "And we'd appreciate your discretion on this."

He reached into his jeans to pull out some galleons, but Tom held out his hand to stop him.

"I understand, Mr. Potter," he replied solemnly. "You were never here."

Daphne breathed a sigh of relief next to him.

Tom left them and Harry cast the cloak over them once more and they made their way to the hearth. In no time they were in an empty Three Broomsticks. They heard a chuckle and turned to their left to see a curvy sort of woman with a pretty face, arms crossed, staring at them amusedly.

Harry was positive they couldn't be seen and found himself thoroughly flummoxed. Daphne was shaking so badly he had to wrap an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Come on out of there," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

Harry looked at Daphne and shrugged. She shook her head in terror until he removed the cloak.

"Oh, my!" Madam Rosmerta laughed heartily. "This brings back so many memories! You must be Harry."

"How?" Harry asked, flabbergasted.

"If I had a sickle for every time James came through here with that infernal cloak," she shook her head. "Figures he would pass it down to you. I've never seen or heard of anything like it."

"You knew my dad?" Harry leaned forward, uncaring that they were caught in the open.

"I doubt there is anyone in Hogsmeade who didn't know him," she chuckled. "But let's get you out of sight. You're lucky the place is empty right now. Best not to take chances, especially with your cute girlfriend."

Harry stiffened and blushed realizing he still had an arm around Daphne's waist. He dared not to look at her.

"Back under the cloak and follow me," Rosmerta instructed.

They obeyed and she cast a quick Scourgify to remove the soot (Harry assumed that was how she found them out). Madam Rosmerta led them upstairs to a private room where they seated and breathed a sigh of relief. They were as close to their goal as they could be and safe from unwanted eyes.

"I'll bring you two some butterbeers, and we can talk," Rosmerta smiled and turned to leave.

"Do you know what time it is?" Harry asked.

"3:15," she informed after a Tempus.

Harry finally looked at Daphne. She looked a mixture of relieved and frazzled and was glancing around the room as if expecting shadows to jump at her.

"Daphne," Harry said softly, noticing she lifted from her seat slightly at his voice. "Are you okay?"

"I really can't get caught, Harry," she caught his eyes and he saw the fear in them. It confused him.

"Why are you so scared?"

She shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. "I don't want to say, but I can't get caught."

He nodded and grabbed her hand. "You won't. We're safe and we're almost there. When the Express arrives, we'll sneak down under the cloak and grab the last carriage. Our trunks and familiars are still on the train. No one will know the better, right?"

"Tracey will know."

"I'm sure you can come up with some explanation for Tracey," Harry assured.

"What about you?"

"No one will notice I was gone," Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe the twins. But I can handle them."

Daphne looked stricken for a moment at his admission but recovered as Madam Rosmerta reappeared with five bottles of cold butterbeer. She opened three and passed two to Harry and Daphne. Harry's eyes widened when he took a swig; it was far better than anything he'd drank before. Daphne sipped hers nervously.

"I swear you look just like James," Rosmerta shook her head. "Looks like you've inherited his penchant for mischief as well."

"What was he like?" Harry asked. "I never really knew him."

"Your father and his band of troublemakers were a menace to Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. At least, that's the description most would tell you and remember. He was wicked smart, and far more advanced than most realized in Transfiguration and Charms. Fiercely loyal to his friends, and head over heels in love with your mum from the day he saw her. You remind me of him," she said wistfully. "But I imagine there's quite a bit of Lily in you. You have her eyes."

Harry's excitement was barely contained. "You knew my mum?"

"She was known as the smartest witch of her age," Rosmerta smiled at him. "Very studious, hated pranks, and fought your father's advances for six years. It was quite entertaining watching him pine after her the way he did. James could have had his pick of any witch he wanted; but he chose Lily and wouldn't even look at anyone else."

"I like reading," Harry said. "Did mum read a lot?"

"She always had a book in her hand." Rosmerta smiled. "Much like you do right now."

Harry had forgotten he'd been lugging around The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 still. Apparently, he'd unconsciously been carrying it since they left, shuffling it from hand to hand as he interacted with Daphne.

"And you must be Daphne," Rosmerta winked. Daphne looked panicked.

"Don't worry dear. I knew your mum when she was your age. Aria was never far from Lily. Those two were dear friends. It's fitting to see you two so close. I know Lily would be ecstatic if she were still with us."

"It's really important no one knows we were here…" Harry trailed off, looking at Daphne worriedly.

Rosmerta frowned briefly. "I understand," she assured. "Not a soul will know. Did you come from Tom's?"

They nodded.

"Then you have nothing to fear. Tom is a good man and won't betray your confidences."

"Thank you," Daphne said timidly.

Rosmerta gave her a knowing look. "It's my pleasure, dear."

"So, dad came through here a lot?" Harry asked.

"Not from the floo," Rosmerta chuckled. "He had other methods, but I think he'd be cross with me if I shared those. Where is the adventure if I tell you?" Her eyes glazed over in reminiscence. "Although I will admit he'd be both impressed and proud of your current predicament. He and Lily didn't sneak out on dates until seventh year."

Harry and Daphne both turned beet red and started protesting. Rosmerta watched them with a mocking grin.

"She's just a friend-" Harry stammered.

"This is not a date-" Daphne spluttered.

"And you two are just like your mothers," Rosmerta laughed heartily. "I'd wager you have Lily's temper, Harry. And there is no doubt you have Aria's demeanor, Daphne. You act exactly like your mother did at your age."

They both paused and sat, simmering.

For Harry, it was therapeutic to know that he had so many similar traits to his parents. He'd never had anyone talk about them like this. There was so much more he wanted to ask. Just as he was about to continue, Rosmerta stood up and looked to the door.

"It appears rush hour is starting," she clucked. "You two stay up here and I'll have some food brought up. I'll come retrieve you when it's time to head to the station. I've really enjoyed our time together. I hope you both will come back to visit me next year."

"Thank you," Harry and Daphne said at the same time.

She smiled over her shoulder. "Make sure you take care of each other."

Harry nodded solemnly and Daphne bit her lower lip before giving a slight nod.

With Rosmerta gone, the two sat in silence for a while before Harry leaned back in his chair and looked over at Daphne. She was finally calm, no longer fidgeting, and her color had returned as her constant blush had faded. She looked radiant as always.

"I know today hasn't exactly been ideal," Harry said, causing Daphne to glance over at him. "But it's been-"

"Fun," Daphne interjected with a tiny smile. She pinkened and nervously toyed with some loose strands of hair.

"Yeah," Harry chuckled.

Madam Rosmerta returned with some snacks which they gratefully ate, sipping on their butterbeers and enjoying each other's company. They didn't talk much and, far too quickly for Harry's liking, soon it was time for them to head to the station. They thanked Madam Rosmerta one last time and drew close as Harry hid them under his cloak.

The walk to the station was easy, and ten minutes after arriving the Express showed and ground to a halt. They waited as students filed out, unconsciously holding hands, before sneaking on to the train to change. When they got to Daphne's compartment, Harry took off for his own under the cloak.

Shortly after, Harry helped Daphne into the last carriage and they both breathed a sigh of relief. Harry was sitting across from Daphne as the line of carriages began to move. She stood suddenly and moved to sit next to him. He was surprised, but certainly didn't protest the proximity.

He watched Daphne out of the corner of his eye and noticed she had a light pink blush dusting her face. He found out why seconds later as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry suppressed his chuckle and draped his arm around Daphne, pulling her closer; a grin plastered to his face when he saw the small smile she wore.

Yep, Harry thought. I'm not only going to thank Dobby, but I'm also going to buy him something real nice for Christmas.

The screen faded to black, and Daphne stared down at her shaking hands, a maelstrom of emotion raging within. She felt cheated that she couldn't remember any of what had just happened. As far as she could recall, she had never left the Express her second year.

How can I not remember that? She thought.

Ignoring the tears that suddenly spattered her hands, Daphne stood, sending her chair clattering to the floor. Astoria went to follow but Daphne, catching her eye, shook her head. Daphne made her way to the Slytherin table, trying to suppress the grimace as her head began throbbing with increasing intensity.

Tracey Davis swiftly realized that Daphne was headed for her and briefly considered fleeing the scene. Where she would go, she had no idea. Instead, she gave a resigned sigh and Daphne was before her in seconds.

"Trace," Daphne said, her voice cracking from the strain of trying to control herself. "Did I ever leave the compartment second year?"

"No," Tracey whispered softly. "In fact, I distinctly remember us talking about Neville the entire trip. You thought I was crazy for thinking him cute."

Daphne swallowed and took a step back, eyes wide with fear.

"You never left the compartment," Tracey finished, looking concerned.

This isn't happening! Daphne shouted internally.

The room spun, much worse than previously, and her head throbbed painfully. She saw white spots and screamed in agony, crumpling to the ground. She thought she heard Astoria yelling.

This is a nightmare! I'm in a dream! This isn't real!