Chapter 14
A Promise Given
Chapter Fourteen
The Hogwarts Express whistle sounded, its high-pitched cry ringing across platform nine-and-three-quarters as students began to say their farewells and board the scarlet train, which billowed steam into the cool September air. Laughter, excited chatter, and the clatter of trunks being loaded filled the station, and amidst the bustle, Harry stood with Sirius and Remus, both men watching him with fond, protective eyes.
“You have everything you need?” Sirius asked, his hand resting comfortably on Harry’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes flickered over Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage, the owl hooting back at him, still fussing despite knowing Harry could handle this on his own.
Harry smiled, the warmth of his godfather’s concern settling over him. “Everything’s packed away, don’t worry. This isn’t my first time going to Hogwarts, Sirius.”
Sirius chuckled, but there was a glint of emotion in his eyes. “I know, but it’s the first time I get to see you off. I just want to make sure it goes off without a hitch.” He brushed some invisible lint off Harry’s sleeve, his gaze lingering a little too long as if memorising every detail.
Beside him, Remus laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’ll embarrass the boy, Sirius. He’s more than capable.” He gave Harry a knowing smile. “Though, I must admit, you’ve made us both proud this summer, Harry. Your training, your focus… it’s been impressive to apply that to your studies, I won't accept anything average from you again.”
Sirius nodded in agreement, his expression softening. “More than impressive. I’ve seen you grow so much these past few months. I couldn’t be prouder.” His voice was thick with emotion, and for a moment, Harry could see the weight of all Sirius had wanted to say for years—how much he had longed to be a part of Harry’s life. “But,” he continued, his tone shifting back to its usual playful lilt, “just because I won’t be there to wake you up at the crack of dawn doesn’t mean you get to slack off, just like Remus has said. Keep up with your training. Run, you've got your lessons with Dumbledore still, practice your spells. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to beat me one day.”
Harry grinned. “Is that a challenge?”
Sirius smirked. “Always.”
“And don’t forget,” Remus interjected, stepping forward with his own parting words, “to have some fun, Harry. Yes, training is important, but so is living a little. Quidditch, late-night talks with your friends—don’t let it all pass you by.”
“Exactly,” Sirius agreed, nodding sagely. “Just because I’m proud doesn’t mean I want you to turn into Moody overnight. Constant vigilance is one thing, but don’t forget you’re still a teenager.”
Harry chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him at their concern. “I’ll do my best. Balance, right?”
“Right,” Remus said with a smile, though his eyes held a flicker of worry, as if sensing the weight of everything Harry had gone through, everything he still had yet to face. But he wouldn’t burden Harry with that now.
“You’ll do just fine. Oh and don’t get a girl pregnant will you?” Sirius chuckled.
“Really?” Harry replied deadpanned.
As the final call for the train rang out, Sirius pulled Harry into a tight embrace. For a moment, neither said a word. Sirius’ grip was firm, almost as if he didn’t want to let go, but finally, he stepped back, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself, alright?”
Harry nodded, feeling a swell of emotion rise in his chest. “I will.”
Remus gave Harry a gentler hug, though no less sincere. “We’ll see you soon. And remember, we’re just an owl away.”
“I know,” Harry said, his voice quiet but filled with gratitude. “Thanks… for everything.”
As Harry turned to walk toward the train, Sirius’ eyes tracked his godson's every step, a mixture of pride and worry tightening his chest. Harry had grown so much—stronger, more confident—but beneath that surface, Sirius knew there was a battle still raging inside. A battle Harry didn’t even fully understand yet.
He swallowed hard, his mind drifting to the secret that had been gnawing at him all summer. Harry carried a piece of Voldemort inside him, a fragment of the Dark Lord’s soul bound to him ever since that terrible night in Godric’s Hollow. The Order had been investigating it, trying to find a way to rid Harry of the Horcrux, but they were no closer to a solution. Every time the conversation came up, it felt like hitting a brick wall. And the thought of it weighed heavily on Sirius, more than anything else.
As Harry paused before boarding the train and waved back at them, Sirius forced a smile, returning the wave. But his heart ached. His godson was walking into yet another year of danger, and they still hadn’t found a way to free him from the dark magic that clung to him.
“I know I keep saying it, but he’s grown, hasn’t he?” Remus said quietly beside him, his voice a mix of warmth and concern.
“Yeah,” Sirius replied, though his throat was tight. “More than I’d like to admit.” He sighed, glancing at the ground before looking back at Harry, who was now stepping onto the train. “He’s stronger than I ever was at his age, but we both know what’s coming. And we haven’t figured out how to… how to help him.”
Remus didn't respond right away, but Sirius could feel his friend’s steady presence beside him. He knew that Remus shared his worry, the same fear that had gnawed at them both all summer.
“We’ll find a way,” Remus said softly, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice.
Sirius clenched his jaw, watching the train as it started to fill with students, the steam billowing out in thick clouds. "We have to. I’ve been thinking… with Harry back at school, I’m going to focus on it. On finding a way to rid him of Voldemort’s soul without—" His voice faltered, the unspoken word hanging in the air like a shadow. Without killing him.
Remus placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder, grounding him. "I know. I’ve been thinking about it too. But Harry’s strong. And he’s got you, me and many others who care for him, Sirius. That matters. He’s not alone in this.”
Sirius nodded, but his mind churned with doubt. The Order hadn’t made any real progress. There were no ancient spells, no rituals they could uncover that didn’t involve the worst possible outcome. The idea of Harry carrying a part of that monster around inside him, all while being unaware of the full truth, made Sirius’ stomach turn. He had sworn to protect him, to do everything James and Lily would’ve wanted, and yet they were running out of time.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got to do more,” Sirius muttered, his eyes glued to the window where Harry had found a compartment. "There has to be something out there, some answer we haven’t found yet."
The Hogwarts Express whistle blew, jolting Sirius from his thoughts. Harry glanced out the window, catching Sirius’ eye one last time before the train began to move. His godson’s face was determined, but there was still that hint of boyishness, the innocence that Sirius feared would be stripped away if they couldn’t figure this out in time.
“You’ve been good for him, you know,” Remus said, pulling Sirius from his dark thoughts. “He’s stronger because of you. A Lot different from the young boy I met in his third year”
Sirius gave a faint nod, though the weight in his chest remained. He watched as the train slowly pulled away, steam trailing behind it as it gathered speed. Harry’s figure grew smaller, but the heavy burden of what lay ahead didn’t lessen.
“We’ll find a way,” Remus said again, his voice filled with quiet conviction, though Siruis knew it was his friend trying to convince himself.
Sirius watched until the train disappeared from sight. “We have to,” he whispered under his breath.
As the echo of the train’s whistle faded into the distance, Sirius made a silent vow. While Harry was at school, he would pour every bit of his energy into finding the answer—something, anything—that could sever Voldemort’s soul from Harry’s without costing him his life. He couldn’t fail him. Not now. Not after everything.
Remus clapped a hand on Sirius’ back, sensing the turmoil beneath the surface. “Come on, let's get some food. Get out of here before you start looking like an emotional wreck.”
Sirius chuckled despite himself, shaking off the grim thoughts for a moment. “Too late for that,” he replied, though his mind was still spinning.
…
Harry leaned back in his seat, idly flipping through Warrior’s Arsenal: Advanced Magical Combat and Strategy, trying to immerse himself in the text. He had a quiet compartment to himself, at least for a little while, since Ron and Hermione were off at their Prefects' meeting. The book was fascinating, detailing high-level dueling techniques and obscure spells for battle, but Harry’s mind kept wandering to other things. Well, more like one specific thing: Daphne Greengrass.
Ever since the Bones’ Summer Ball, thoughts of Daphne Greengrass had been popping into Harry’s head with alarming regularity. The memory of their dance specifically, how natural it had felt, how graceful she had moved, lingered like a song he couldn’t get out of his mind. There had been something about her that night, the way she had said she didn’t know he had a date, and it gnawed at him. Was she just making polite conversation, or was there more to her words? He couldn’t help but replay that moment over and over, wondering if he was looking too deeply into it.
And then there was their last study session together.
It had been one of those late afternoons in the library after a grueling training session with Sirius, when the warm glow of the sun cast a cosy light over the otherwise quiet space. Harry had been looking over his notes for Ancient Runes, trying to get a grip on a particularly tricky translation of a complex protection glyph. It was something related to the spring term's notes on Runes Daphne had taken, but the details eluded him, and he found himself frowning in frustration.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Harry muttered to himself, rubbing his temples as he stared at the parchment, trying to figure out why the sequence of runes wasn’t matching up.
Daphne, who had been quietly working across from him, glanced up from her own notes. “Need some help?”
“Yeah, actually,” Harry admitted, holding up the parchment. “I can’t figure out why this third glyph isn't working with the others. It’s supposed to bind the protection spell together, but the way it’s written doesn’t seem to link up at all. Do you know what I’m missing?”
Rather than simply explain from her side of the desk as she normally would, Daphne stood up, walking around the desk to stand beside him. “Let’s see.”
She leaned over to get a closer look at the parchment he was holding. Harry was suddenly hyper-aware of her presence. As she leaned over, a few stray locks of her blonde hair slipped from behind her ears and rested lightly on his shoulder. The soft scent of her perfume—a subtle mix of jasmine and something else he couldn’t place—filled the air between them, and he could feel the warmth of her body so close to his.
She began explaining the translation issue, her voice low and focused as she traced a line along the runes with her finger. But for the life of him, Harry couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. His thoughts were elsewhere—entirely on her. He was dimly aware that she was talking, pointing out the specific runes and their meanings, but all he could focus on was how close she was, how the soft strands of her hair brushed against his neck as she leaned in.
Harry blinked, realising he hadn’t been paying attention at all. His eyes darted up to meet hers, and that’s when he noticed—she was looking at him. Her words trailed off, and for a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
She was standing close, too close, and Harry felt an unexpected heat rising to his cheeks. He couldn’t remember what she had said, only that she had been speaking, and now they were both frozen in that moment, the air between them charged with something unspoken.
Daphne didn’t say anything further, simply offering him a small smile before turning back slightly and resuming her explanation, though Harry couldn’t recall a single word of it. His mind had been far too distracted by everything else.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a knock on the compartment door. Neville Longbottom stood there, looking a little sheepish but determined.
“Hey, Harry,” Neville began, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been asked to come and see if you’d like to join Professor Slughorn for dinner with some other students.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Professor Slughorn? Who’s that?”
Neville looked surprised for a second but quickly recovered. “He’s the new Potions professor. Bit of an odd character, but supposedly he’s famous for collecting students…you know, the ‘well-connected’ or ‘talented’ ones. Anyway, he apparently invited you, but I guess the message must have gotten lost or something.”
Harry frowned slightly, thinking about it. He hadn’t heard anything about a new Potions professor, let alone one who wanted to collect students, in his defence he had a lot on. But his curiosity was piqued, especially since Potions had always been a subject he struggled with, thanks to Snape’s relentless criticism.
“Alright,” Harry said, closing his book and standing up. “I’ll come along.”
Neville smiled, clearly relieved, and the two made their way through the train’s narrow corridor toward the compartment where Slughorn was hosting his little dinner.
“Wait if this Slughorn is our potions professor what’s Snape doing” Harry questioned.
“Eh I don’t know actually … Could you imagine if he got defence finally” Nevillie chuckled and then suddenly paled at the thought “Oh no”
“Don't worry Nev, you’ll show him up after your performance in the DA and the ministry battle. Anyway, come on lets get this over with”
As they approached, Harry could hear the faint sound of conversation and laughter from inside. Neville opened the door, and Harry followed him in. The compartment was larger than most, magically expanded to accommodate a group of students who were all sitting around a lavish spread of food. At the head of the table was a rotund, beaming man with a large mustache—Professor Horace Slughorn, no doubt. He was regretting it already.
“Ah! Mr. Potter!” Slughorn’s eyes lit up the moment he spotted Harry. He clapped his hands together in delight. “I was beginning to think my invitation had gone astray! Wonderful to have you join us, my boy. Come, come, take a seat. Cormac, would you mind? Let Mr. Potter sit here.”
Harry watched as Cormac McLaggen, looking slightly annoyed, was shifted down the table. And that’s when Harry noticed her—Daphne Greengrass, sitting right next to the now-empty seat.
His stomach did a little flip.
Trying to keep his expression neutral, Harry moved to sit down, now finding himself right next to Daphne. She looked up at him, offering a polite nod, her cool demeanor in place, though her eyes seemed to linger on his for a second longer than necessary.
“Hello, Potter,” she said, her voice composed as ever, though Harry swore there was a hint of amusement in her tone.
“Greengrass,” he replied, his own voice a little too casual.
Sitting beside her again, that familiar warmth from their study session crept back into his thoughts—the way she had leaned over him, the soft scent of her perfume, the strands of her hair brushing his shoulder. His mind momentarily drifted back to the library, to the way she had looked at him during that fleeting moment of silence, the unspoken tension between them.
He shifted in his seat, trying to focus as Slughorn began talking animatedly about his favorite students from past years, name-dropping famous witches and wizards with each passing sentence. Harry tried to listen, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the girl beside him.
Slughorn, in his usual exuberant manner, seemed thrilled to have Harry there, regaling the table with stories about Lily Potter’s potion-making prowess. Harry listened, nodding when appropriate, truth be told I was nice to hear stories about his mum, even if they did give a feeling of bittersweet. Slughorn’s booming laugh and constant flattery however, were starting to grate on him. He internally regretted coming, but then his eyes drifted once more to Daphne, and for a moment, he wasn’t so sure.
As the conversation flowed around him. Daphne, for her part, seemed mostly unfazed by Slughorn’s antics, her sharp eyes taking in everything without giving much away. At one point, their hands accidentally brushed as they both reached for a goblet of pumpkin juice at the same time. Harry jerked his hand back quickly, a bit flustered.
“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.
Daphne only raised an eyebrow, giving him that same smile she had during their study session, as if she was perfectly aware of the effect she had on him but wasn’t about to comment on it. How was it he had been perfectly comfortable around her before the dance and now he was all out of sorts?
Just then, Comac McLaggen leaned in, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Hey, Daphne, I’m sorry I couldn’t attend and ask you for a dance at the Summer Ball. It’s a terrible shame, I heard you looked beautiful. You know, if you ever need a real partner for dancing next time, I’m your man.” He flexed his arms as if showcasing his strength, clearly trying to impress her.
Daphne’s expression turned slightly bemused, and she replied coolly, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” She shot a glance at Harry, who couldn’t help but chuckle at Comac’s lack of finesse, though in reality, he bristled at the attempt.
“I mean, the professor here introduced us earlier,” Comac said, feigning casualness.
“Oh, I must have missed it. Awfully sorry. As for dancing, I believe I had sufficient options, so don’t feel the need to apologise,” she replied, dismissing him with a glance before looking away from the older Gryffindor. Who looked quite perturbed at the encounter.
At that moment, Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together, eager to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Now, Harry, I believe you are captain of your Quidditch team this year? Have you given any thought to who you’ll pick for the team this year? I was thinking perhaps you should consider Ginny Weasley. She’s proven herself quite the player.”
“Yeah, I know Ginny's great,” Harry said, feeling a bit of pressure at the suggestion, nodding at the younger girl with a smile. “But maybe sharing my tactics in front of the other houses wouldn’t be the best idea.” He chuckled lightly, hoping to keep the mood light.
Blaise Zabini, seated a few chairs down, smirked and interjected, “Oh, come on, Potter. It doesn’t matter. You’ll just catch the Snitch every time anyway.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the jab, shaking his head. “You say that like it’s easy. The Snitch has a mind of its own.”
“You make it look flipping easy morelike” the darker skinned wizard chuckled.
Daphne shot her housemate an amused glance before briefly glancing at Harry, her smile still lingering, and Harry felt a flutter of excitement at the look. Meanwhile, Comac, chirped up.
“I’m thinking Potter, If you need some tactical advice or even some talent, I would be willing to spare some time for you” Comac leaned around to look past Daphne though the way the boy glanced at his own arms with a smirk made Harry want to vomit in his own mouth.
“Have you ever played quidditch?” Harry asked, not unkindly.
“No, but I can fly, More importantly I'm fit and am good with my hands” Comac glanced at Daphne with the last comment which made Harry want to physically assault the boy. He was acting like the moron in those coming of age films and books.
“So is a monkey but that doesn’t mean it can play Quidditch” Harry replied before he could stop himself, truthfully that wasn’t meant to be an insult. A few things happened. Ginny snorted into her drink and rapidly covered her mouth, eyes wide with mirth. Neville had suddenly found the ceiling interesting, Baise made an impressed face and nodded, Daphne seemed impassive but he noted her lips twitch upwards and Comac looked murderous whilst everyone else looked on with interest at the scene.
“I meant no offense of course, just an observation” Harry quipped before taking his eyes off the older boy.
“If we weren’t in this room Potter I’d kindly ask to settle this in a duel”
“For an observation?” Harry replied with a raised eyebrow, not one to back down from a fight.
“For referring to me as a primate”
“Now, now Comac, young Harry here was clearly jesting with you. That and I’m not sure either of us in this room would fancy crossing wands with the young man. He has dueled the dark lord himself and lived!”
“I’d quite like to see it” Zabini said cheerfully, earning a glare from the older Gryffindor.
After the brief confrontation with Comac, the mood in the compartment began to lighten again, with laughter echoing off the walls. Daphne turned to Harry, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I heard you’re taking Ancient Runes this year, Potter,” she announced just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
Harry raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You did, did you? But yes I am”
“Oh yes,” she continued, a teasing smile spreading across her face. “Professor Babbling reached out over the summer to say that I’d be your study catch-up partner.”
Harry felt a rush of warmth at the thought. “Did she?” he asked, feigning nonchalance but unable to hide the grin tugging at his lips.”Why you may I ask?”
“Well I do get top marks, so they thought you’d benefit I guess” she replied
Daphne leaned closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “It gives us grounds to be seen talking together this year, doesn’t it?,” she said.
“You know that’ll not stop the rumor mill right?,” Harry replied, matching her tone. “Won’t you get grief from Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson?’”
“After the news about you killing a few dementors and dueling the Dark Lord before the summer I believe people will wary about drawing your anger” she quipped, though her eyes seemed to soften when he asked about her wellbeing.
“Well I look forward to working together, Miss Greengrass” he said a little louder and reached out to shake her hand which the blonde witch took and shook. He did notice her pupils expand slightly though the rest of her face betrayed nothing.
“Well, if it helps to keep the whispers at bay, I’m all for it,” Daphne said quietly again, her expression shifting to something more genuine. “Besides, it could be fun to work together now given you’ve caught up alot.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Harry agreed.
…
Daphne made her way through the narrow corridor of the train, the sounds of laughter and chatter fading as she approached the bathroom. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, grateful for the brief moment of solitude. As she moved to the small mirror above the sink, she took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of her earlier interactions with Harry flooding back.
Her mind drifted back to a conversation with her mother before returning to school. They had been sitting in the cosy sitting room of their home, the fire crackling softly as they shared a cup of tea. Her mother, Elizabeth, had observed her closely, an amused smile playing on her lips.
“Daphne, dear,” her mother had said, setting her cup down. “I know you’re worried about keeping things neutral with Harry, but you’re also officially his study partner now with Professor Babblings letter. You might want to use that to your advantage.”
“What do you mean?” Daphne had asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Well,” Elizabeth continued, a twinkle in her eye, “if you’re working together on Ancient Runes, you can talk as much as you want about that subject … And others. Just make sure you avoid discussing him at the estate or his training. It can all be chalked up to studying partners socialising.”
Daphne had considered her mother’s words, feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension. That could work, she had thought, though a part of her was nervous about blurring the lines. She had always been careful, especially with how her house was.
Her mind drifted back to their last study session with Harry, where she had stood beside him wanting to see how he would react as she leaned over to help with his notes. The way he had looked at her, those deep green eyes wide with surprise and something else, was it admiration? She could still remember the warmth of his body close to hers, the rush of excitement that had coursed through her when his eyes had met hers
Daphne shook her head slightly, pulling herself back to the present. Whatever their connection, she needed to remain cautious. But with Harry, everything felt different, easier somehow.
Daphne shook her head, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. Get a grip, she told herself, splashing a bit of water on her face. She had never been one to act impulsively and she viewed her actions back at dinner as blatant flirting, it took everything to remain composed when they shook hands, her magic had gone haywire.
She turned away from the mirror and leaned on the sink, looking up at the ceiling. This year was going to be interesting.
…..