"So," Daphne said after a long moment of silence. Her thumb was tracing small circles on the back of Harry's hand where they were still joined. "Where do we even start?"
Harry looked at her, really looked at her. She was wrapped in the conjured blanket, her damp hair falling around her shoulders, and her face clean of blood for the first time in hours. The moonlight painted her skin silver and made her eyes seem darker than usual. She looked vulnerable and strong all at once.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I've never been good at this. Talking about feelings and relationships and all that."
"Neither have I," Daphne said with a small smile. "Greengrasses don't do emotional conversations. We do polite distance and carefully maintained facades. At least we did." Her smile faded. "Before."
"Before your family was murdered and your entire world was destroyed," Harry said quietly. "You don't have to pretend with me, Daphne. Not about any of it."
"I know." She took a deep breath. "That's part of what makes this so terrifying, actually. I've never had someone I didn't have to pretend with. Someone who understood without me having to explain. Someone who'd been through the same hell."
"Is that what this is?" Harry asked carefully. "Shared trauma? Two broken people clinging to each other because we understand each other's pain?"
Daphne was quiet for a long moment, considering the question. "Maybe that's how it started. I don't know. When I first woke up in that room and saw you, I was confused and scared and angry. But you were there. You'd saved me when you had absolutely no reason to. You gave me a place to heal when you could have just left me to die in that forest."
"I would never have left you to die."
"I know that now. But then? I didn't know you. Not really. We'd barely spoken at school. You were the famous Harry Potter and I was just another Slytherin who probably thought you were an attention seeking prat."
Harry huffed a laugh. "Did you? Think I was an attention seeking prat?"
"Sometimes," Daphne admitted with a grin. "Especially during fourth year with the Tournament. But mostly I just thought you were this untouchable golden boy who had everything handed to him. Fame, glory, people falling over themselves to help you."
"That's a pretty far cry from reality."
"I know that now too," Daphne said softly. "After spending time with you, after seeing what your life is actually like, I realize how wrong I was. You've had it harder than almost anyone. You lost your parents as a baby, were raised by people who hated you, and have been fighting for your life since you were eleven years old."
"We've both lost a lot," Harry said. "That's what we have in common. But I don't think that's all this is. I don't think we're just seeking comfort in shared misery."
"Then what is it?" Daphne's eyes searched his face. "What do you feel when you look at me, Harry?"
Harry took his time answering, wanting to get it right. "When I look at you, I see someone strong. Someone who survived torture and loss and came out the other side still fighting. I see someone brave enough to face down Death Eaters alone, even when you knew you might die. I see someone beautiful and fierce and absolutely refusing to give up no matter how bad things get."
Daphne's breath caught slightly. "That's how you see me?"
"That's exactly how I see you," Harry said firmly. "But it's more than that. When I'm with you, I feel like I can breathe. Like I don't have to be the Boy Who Lived or the Chosen One or any of the other titles people have stuck on me. I can just be Harry. Broken and angry and trying my best to survive."
"I feel the same way," Daphne admitted. "When I'm with you, I don't have to be the perfect pureblood daughter. I don't have to pretend I'm not drowning in rage and grief. I can just be Daphne. Damaged and furious and barely holding it together."
They were both quiet for a moment, letting the honesty settle between them.
"When did it change for you?" Harry asked. "When did I stop being just the person who saved you and start being something more?"
Daphne thought about that. "I'm not sure there was one specific moment. It was gradual. Every time you checked on me. Every time you treated me like a person instead of a burden. Every time you looked at me and I saw understanding in your eyes instead of pity." She paused. "But if I had to pick a moment, it was probably when you told me about Hermione and Celeste. About your relationship with them."
Harry's eyebrows rose. "Really? That's what did it?"
"You were so honest with me," Daphne explained. "You could have lied or hidden it. Instead you laid it all out there, trusting me with something that could have been used against you. That meant something to me. It showed me you saw me as an equal, as someone worth trusting."
"You are worth trusting," Harry said simply.
"And then there were the other moments," Daphne continued. "Watching you with Hermione. Seeing how you cared for her. How you protected her but also respected her strength. I'd never seen a relationship like that before. Most wizarding marriages are political arrangements or based on who can provide the best heirs. But you and her, that was real. That was partnership."
Harry felt warmth spread through his chest at her words. "Hermione means everything to me. She's been with me through everything. She's brilliant and strong and absolutely refuses to let me do stupid things without calling me out on it."
"She loves you," Daphne said. It wasn't a question.
"She does," Harry agreed. "And I love her. But it's complicated."
"Because of Ginny?"
Harry nodded slowly. "I told Hermione about this already. I cared about Ginny. Maybe I even loved her in my own way. But that was before. Before the war truly started. Before Ron betrayed us. Before everything changed." He met Daphne's eyes. "I'm not the same person I was when I dated Ginny. That Harry was naive and thought things would work out if he just tried hard enough. This Harry knows better."
"What does this Harry want?" Daphne asked softly.
"This Harry wants to survive," Harry said. "To destroy the Horcruxes and end the dark bastard permanently. To protect the people he cares about. And to be with someone who understands him. Someone who doesn't need him to be a hero, just a man."
"Someone like Hermione," Daphne said.
"Yes. And someone like you."
The words hung in the air between them. Daphne's eyes widened slightly, and her grip on his hand tightened.
"Harry," she breathed.
"I know it's complicated," Harry said quickly. "I know I'm already with Hermione. I know there's Celeste too, though that's different because she's bound to the manor and needs me in ways that aren't entirely about choice. But Daphne, when I'm with you, I feel the same things I feel with Hermione. Connection. Understanding. Trust. And something more."
"Desire," Daphne said quietly.
"Yes," Harry admitted. "Desire. I won't lie to you about that. I'm attracted to you. Have been since you woke up in that guest room and started arguing with me about revenge. But it's not just physical. It's everything about you."
Daphne was quiet for a long moment, processing his words. "I've been attracted to you too," she finally said. "I tried to deny it at first. Told myself it was just proximity and shared trauma. But then I saw you with Hermione. I watched you make love to her through that door I shouldn't have been watching through."
Harry's eyes widened. "You saw us?"
"I did," Daphne admitted, color rising in her cheeks. "I know I shouldn't have watched. It was private and intimate and none of my business. But I couldn't look away. The way you touched her, the way you made her feel safe and desired and cherished all at once, it was beautiful. And I wanted that. I wanted to know what it felt like to be touched like that."
"By me specifically?" Harry asked.
"By you specifically," Daphne confirmed. "Not just any man. You. Because you understand loss and rage and the need for revenge. Because you see me as strong instead of broken. Because when you look at me, I don't feel like a victim. I feel like a warrior."
Harry's throat felt tight with emotion. "You are a warrior, Daphne. One of the strongest people I know."
"Then be with me," Daphne said. Her voice was steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes. "Not instead of Hermione. I would never ask you to choose. But alongside her. Let me be part of whatever this is you're building."
"It's not going to be easy," Harry warned. "What I have with Hermione, what you'd be joining, it's unconventional. People would judge. They'd call you things. Call all of us things."
"Let them," Daphne said fiercely. "I don't care what people think. My family is dead. My house is ash. The whole wizarding world is falling apart around us. Why should I care about convention or propriety or what people might say?"
"You shouldn't," Harry agreed. "But I needed you to know what you'd be getting into."
"I know exactly what I'm getting into," Daphne said. "A relationship with a man who's destined to face the darkest wizard of our time. A man who has a piece of that wizard's soul stuck in his head. A man who's already sharing himself with more than one other woman. I know all of it, Harry. And I still want this. I still want you."
Harry felt something break loose in his chest. Relief and joy and desire all mixed together. "There's something else you need to know. Something about the Horcrux in my scar."
"Tell me," Daphne said simply.
Harry took a deep breath and explained it all. The ritual Celeste had discovered. The need to make love to seven different witches during specific magical ritual settings to weaken the Horcrux's connection to him. The fact that he'd already completed one seventh with Hermione and another seventh with Celeste. The necessity of finding five more willing participants.
Daphne listened intently, her expression never wavering. When he finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
"So you need five more witches," she said finally.
"Yes," Harry confirmed. "The ritual has specific requirements. The participants have to be willing. They have to understand what they're doing. And it has to happen either during moments of significant magical resonance, either natural or one created through runes and chanting."
"Like tonight," Daphne said slowly. "After we both nearly died. After we fought side by side and survived the impossible. That would be magically significant, wouldn't it?"
Harry's heart started beating faster. "It would be. Surviving mortal danger creates powerful magical resonance. The ritual could work."
Daphne leaned forward suddenly, her free hand coming up to touch his forehead. Her fingers traced the lightning bolt scar gently, reverently. "Does it hurt? The Horcrux?"
"Sometimes," Harry admitted. "When he's feeling strong emotions or when he's nearby. Tonight it burned like fire when he appeared. But most of the time it's just there. A constant presence in my head that shouldn't be there."
"I want to help you get rid of it," Daphne said firmly. Her eyes met his, steady and sure. "I want to be part of this ritual. I want to help weaken that bastard's hold on you."
"Daphne, you don't have to do this just to help me. If you're not ready, if this is too fast, we can wait."
"I'm not doing this just to help you," Daphne interrupted. She cupped his face in both hands, her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. "I'm doing this because I want you. Because I've wanted you since I watched you with Hermione and realized what it could be like. Because tonight we nearly died and all I could think was that I didn't want to die without knowing what it felt like to be with you. That I wanted to live out my life with you."
"Daphne," Harry breathed.
"I have feelings for you, Harry," Daphne said. The words came out rushed, like she needed to get them out before she lost her courage. "Real feelings. Not just gratitude or attraction or shared trauma. I care about you. I want to be with you. And I want to help you in any way I can, including this ritual."
Harry's hands came up to cover hers where they rested on his face. "I have feelings for you too. Strong feelings that I've been trying to ignore because I didn't want to complicate things. But tonight, when Bellatrix had you down and I thought I might lose you, I realized I couldn't ignore it anymore. I care about you, Daphne. Deeply."
"Then stop talking," Daphne said with a small smile. "And kiss me."
Harry closed the distance between them without hesitation. Their lips met in a kiss that was tender at first, gentle and exploring. But it quickly deepened into something more desperate. Two people who'd nearly died and were celebrating being alive the only way that made sense.
Daphne's hands slid from his face to his hair, her fingers tangling in the damp strands. Harry's arms went around her waist, pulling her closer despite the blanket between them. They kissed like they were drowning and the other person was air.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Daphne let out a shaky laugh.
"What?" Harry asked, his forehead resting against hers.
"I just realized something ridiculous," Daphne said. "A year ago, if someone had told me I'd be naked in the Forest of Dean kissing Harry Potter, I would have checked them into St. Mungo's for obvious insanity."
Harry let out a warm and genuine laugh. "A year ago, if someone had told me I'd be in a relationship with not only Hermione but also Daphne Greengrass and was about to make love to her, I would have done the same."
"We're a long way from Hogwarts, aren't we?" Daphne said softly.
"Miles and miles," Harry agreed. "Different people entirely."
"Better people," Daphne said firmly. "Stronger. More honest. More real."
"Is that what we are now? Real?"
"More real than I've ever been with anyone," Daphne said. She kissed him again, softer this time. "I never imagined I'd talk to you, let alone be like this with you. Both physically and emotionally bare. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once."
"I know exactly what you mean," Harry said. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "This is new territory for me too. I've never felt this way about two people at the same time. Never thought I could. But here we are."
"Here we are," Daphne echoed. "Two broken people who found each other in the middle of a war."
"Maybe we can help put each other back together," Harry suggested.
"Maybe we already have," Daphne said. "At least a little bit."
They kissed again and this time neither pulled away. The blanket fell from Daphne's shoulders as she moved closer, straddling Harry's lap. His hands found her bare skin, tracing the curve of her spine. She shivered at the touch but not from the cold.
"Are you sure about this?" Harry asked against her lips. "We don't have to rush. We can wait."
"I don't want to wait," Daphne said firmly. "I've spent too much of my life waiting for the right moment. Tonight we nearly died. Tomorrow we might actually die. I don't want to waste whatever time we have."
"Neither do I," Harry admitted.
Daphne's hands moved over his chest, exploring the newly healed skin. Her touch was gentle but searing, learning the shape of him. Harry mirrored her movements, his hands mapping the curves and planes of her body with reverence. She was all smooth skin and toned muscle, strong but undeniably feminine. His fingers traced the line of her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts. When he cupped them gently, she made a soft sound of pleasure that went straight to his core.
"You're beautiful," he murmured against her neck. "Absolutely beautiful."
"So are you," Daphne breathed. "So strong. I felt it when we were fighting together. The power in you."
"You're just as strong." Harry kissed along her jaw. "You're a warrior, Daphne. You fought beside me tonight like you were born for it."
"Maybe I was." Her head fell back, giving him better access to her neck. "Maybe we both were."
She gasped when Harry's lips found her throat, pressing kisses along her pulse point. "Harry."
His name on her lips sent heat racing through him. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her more firmly against him. Daphne gasped at the contact, her body responding immediately.
He continued his exploration, his mouth following the path his hands had traced. He kissed her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, and the upper swell of her breasts. When his lips closed around one nipple, Daphne gasped and arched into him.
"Harry," she breathed.
He took his time, lavishing attention on first one breast and then the other. Daphne's hands tangled in his hair, holding him close. Her breathing had quickened, small sounds of pleasure escaping her lips.
"I want to touch you too," she said after a moment.
Harry released her breast and looked up at her. "Then touch me."
Daphne pushed him back gently until he was lying on the flat rock. The stone was cold against his back, but he barely noticed. All his attention was on Daphne as she straddled his thighs, her hands moving over his chest.
"I've wanted to do this since I saw you shirtless," she admitted. Her fingers traced the lines of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. "You're gorgeous, Harry Potter. Did you know that?"
"I'm starting to get the idea."
She laughed and leaned down to kiss him. Her breasts pressed against his chest, warm and soft. Harry's hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer. He could feel the heat of her core against his stomach, could feel how much she wanted this.
Daphne broke the kiss and began trailing her lips down his body. She kissed his jaw, his neck, his chest. Her tongue flicked out to taste his skin, and Harry groaned at the sensation. She continued lower, her mouth exploring every inch of him.
When she reached his cock, already hard and aching for her, she paused. Her hand wrapped around the base, and Harry hissed at the contact.
"May I?" she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
"Please."
Her mouth closed around the head, hot and wet and perfect. Harry's hips jerked involuntarily, and he had to force himself to stay still. Daphne's tongue swirled around him, and then she took him deeper.
"Fuck," Harry groaned. His hands tangled in her hair, not pushing but just holding on. "Daphne."
She worked him with her mouth and hand, finding a rhythm that had him seeing stars. It felt incredible, but more than that, it felt right. This was Daphne giving herself to him, showing him with actions what she couldn't yet put into words.
When he was close to the edge, Harry gently pulled her off. "Wait. I want to be inside you when I come."
Daphne smiled and crawled back up his body. She positioned herself over him, one hand reaching between them to guide him inside her.
Harry's hands steadied her hips as she slowly, so slowly, lowered herself onto him. They both groaned at the sensation, the feeling of finally being joined. Daphne's eyes fluttered closed and her mouth fell open in a silent gasp.
"Look at me, Daphne."
Daphne opened her eyes and met his gaze. The intimacy of it was almost overwhelming. They were completely exposed to each other, physically and emotionally, and neither looked away.
"You feel amazing," he managed.
"So do you." Daphne's voice was strained with pleasure. "So big. So perfect."
When she'd taken him completely, she paused. They stayed like that for a moment, joined together, just feeling. Then Daphne began to move.
She moved slow at first, and Harry matched her rhythm, his hands guiding her hips but letting her set the pace. They moved together like they'd been doing this for years instead of minutes, instinctively finding what worked.
"You feel incredible," Harry groaned.
"So do you," Daphne gasped. She was moving faster now, chasing her pleasure with single minded focus. "Harry, I need—"
His hands moved over her body as she rode him. He cupped her breasts, rolled her nipples between his fingers. She threw her head back, her hair falling like a curtain down her back. She was beautiful like this, lost in pleasure, taking what she needed.
"Harder," Daphne gasped. "Please, Harry. Harder."
Harry sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist. He braced his feet on the rock and began to thrust up into her with more force. Daphne cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders.
"Yes. Like that. Don't stop."
He didn't. Harry pounded into her relentlessly, driven by her pleas and the tight heat of her body. Daphne was making desperate sounds now, little gasps and moans that told him how close she was.
His hand moved between them, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed tight circles over it as she continued to roll her hips. Her inner walls began to flutter around him, her rhythm becoming erratic.
"Harry," she gasped. "I'm going to..."
Daphne's rhythm faltered as her pleasure built further. Harry took over, his hips driving up to meet her as his fingers worked her clit. The sounds she was making were driving him insane, desperate little gasps and moans that went straight to his cock.
"Please," Daphne whimpered. "Harry, please."
"Come for me," Harry commanded. "Let go. I've got you."
His words pushed her over the edge. Daphne's body went rigid, her inner walls clamping down around him as her orgasm hit her hard, her body convulsing in his arms. She cried out his name, her nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
Harry held her through it, his own pleasure mounting but not quite there yet. He wanted to draw this out, wanted to make it last. When Daphne's trembling finally subsided, she collapsed against his chest, breathing hard.
"That was," she started.
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
They stayed like that for a while, breathing heavily as Daphne slowly came down from her orgasmic high.
"We're not done though," she said finally. She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes dark with renewed desire. "You didn't finish."
"I wanted you to come first," Harry said simply.
"Well now it's your turn," Daphne said. She kissed him deeply, her tongue sliding against his. "Take what you need, Harry. I can handle it."
Something snapped in Harry at those words. He stood smoothly, Daphne's legs wrapping around his waist to keep them joined. He walked them over to a flat boulder near the water's edge and laid her down on it gently.
The stone was cold against her back but Daphne didn't seem to care. She pulled Harry down on top of her, her legs locking around his hips.
"Like this," she said. "I want to see your face when you come."
Harry braced himself on his forearms and began to move. No more teasing or drawing it out. Just raw, honest pleasure. Daphne met him thrust for thrust, her hips rising to take him deeper.
"Yes," she gasped. "Just like that. Don't stop."
Harry couldn't have stopped if he wanted to. The feel of her hot warmth around him, the sounds she was making, the way she was looking at him like he was everything, it was too much. He felt his orgasm building, pleasure coiling tight at the base of his spine.
"Daphne," he groaned. "I'm close."
"Do it," Daphne urged. Her hands cupped his face, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "Come inside me. I want to feel it."
Harry's rhythm grew erratic as he chased his release. Daphne's inner walls were fluttering around him, signaling another orgasm building in her as well. When she tightened around him with a sharp cry, it pushed him over the edge.
His orgasm hit like a physical blow, pleasure exploding through every nerve in his body. He buried himself as deep as he could go, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside her. He could hear a distant screaming somewhere in the deepest pits of his mind and he smiled, knowing what it was.
Daphne held him through it, her hands in his hair and her legs locked around his waist.
They stayed like that for a long moment, both trembling and gasping for breath. Finally Harry's arms gave out and he collapsed on top of her, careful not to crush her with his full weight.
"Fuck," Daphne breathed. "That was better than I imagined."
"You imagined it?" Harry asked with a tired grin.
"Multiple times," Daphne admitted without shame. "It started after watching you with Hermione. I'd be in my room and touch myself while thinking about what it would be like to be in her place."
Harry groaned at the mental image. "That's incredibly hot."
"Is it?" Daphne's fingers traced patterns on his back. "I thought it might be creepy."
"Not even a little bit creepy," Harry assured her. "Just hot."
They lay together as their breathing slowly returned to normal. The night air was cold against their sweat dampened skin but neither moved to separate. This moment felt too precious to end.
"We should probably get dressed," Daphne said eventually. "Before we freeze to death after surviving everything else."
"Probably," Harry agreed. But he still didn't move.
Daphne laughed softly. "Or we could stay like this and see if we turn into ice sculptures."
"That would be a hell of a way to go," Harry said. "Found frozen together in the Forest of Dean after defeating Death Eaters and surviving the dark bastard."
"The Prophet would have a field day with that story," Daphne said. "Boy Who Lived Dies of Hypothermia While Shagging Slytherin Girl."
Harry finally pulled back to look at her properly. "You're not just a Slytherin girl. You're Daphne. And what we just did wasn't shagging. It was making love."
Daphne's expression softened. "You're right. I'm sorry. I deflect with humor when things get too real."
"So do I," Harry said. "We're a matched set."
"We really are," Daphne agreed. She cupped his face and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. "Thank you. For tonight. For everything."
"You don't have to thank me."
"Yes, I do," Daphne said firmly. "You gave me something I desperately needed. Not just the physical pleasure, though that was incredible. But the connection. The intimacy. The feeling of being wanted for who I am, not what I represent or what I can offer."
"You're wanted," Harry said. "Very much wanted. By me. By Celeste. And I suspect by Hermione too, though you'd have to ask her yourself."
Daphne's eyes widened. "You think Hermione would want me? Like that?"
"I think Hermione would see in you exactly what I see," Harry said. "Strength and intelligence and fierce determination. She's attracted to those qualities. And she knows that what I have with her doesn't diminish just because I care about someone else too."
"This is so far outside anything I was raised to understand," Daphne said quietly. "Pureblood marriages are about alliances and heirs. Love is secondary if it exists at all. But what you're describing, what you have with Hermione and now with me, it's based entirely on genuine feeling."
"Is that a problem?" Harry asked.
"No," Daphne said immediately. "It's perfect. It's exactly what I want. I'm just saying it's different from what I grew up believing was normal."
"Nothing about our lives is normal," Harry pointed out. "Why should our relationships be?"
"Fair point," Daphne conceded with a smile.
They finally separated, both wincing slightly at the loss of contact. Harry helped Daphne sit up and conjured fresh clothes for both of them. The bloodstained and torn garments from earlier were left in a pile to be vanished later.
As they dressed, Daphne kept glancing at Harry with a small smile on her face.
"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked.
"Just that I'm happy," Daphne said. "Despite everything that happened tonight, despite how close we came to dying, right now in this moment I'm genuinely happy."
"So am I," Harry said honestly. "Being with you, it feels right in a way I didn't expect."
"We should probably head back soon," Daphne said, though she didn't sound enthusiastic about the idea. "Hermione and Celeste will be worried."
"They will," Harry agreed. "But we don't have to go right this second. We can take a little more time. Just for us."
Daphne's smile widened. "I'd like that."
They settled on the shore of the lake, sitting close together with Harry's arm around Daphne's shoulders. She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Above them, the stars wheeled slowly across the sky.
"Do you think we'll actually survive this war?" Daphne asked quietly.
"I don't know," Harry answered honestly. "The odds aren't great. But I'm going to fight like hell to make sure we do. All of us."
"All of us," Daphne repeated. "You, me, Hermione, Celeste. Anyone else who ends up part of this strange little family you're building."
"Is that what we are? A family?"
"I think so," Daphne said. "Not a traditional one, obviously. But we're bound together by choice and circumstance. We care about each other. We protect each other. That's family, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Harry said softly. "I think it is."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while longer, neither wanting to break the peace. Eventually though, practical concerns reasserted themselves.
"We really should go back," Harry said reluctantly as he took care of their bloodied clothes and all evidence of their presence in the lake. "Hermione's probably pacing a hole in the floor by now."
"And Celeste is probably making inappropriate jokes to cope with the stress," Daphne added.
"Most definitely," Harry agreed with a grin.
They stood and Harry took down the privacy wards with a wave of his wand. The clearing suddenly felt less isolated, more connected to the world beyond. It was time to return to reality.
Harry held out his hand to Daphne. "Ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Daphne said, taking his hand. "Though I have to say, explaining where we've been and what we've been doing is going to be interesting."
"We'll just tell them the truth," Harry said. "We nearly died, we escaped, we needed time to process and heal. And then we made love because we both wanted to and because it was part of the ritual to weaken the Horcrux."
"You make it sound so simple," Daphne said.
"It is simple," Harry said. "The feelings are real, the connection is real, and the ritual is real. Everything else is just details."
"I hope Hermione sees it that way," Daphne said with a trace of anxiety.
"She will," Harry assured her. "Hermione understands that my caring about you doesn't diminish what I feel for her. If anything, I think she'll be happy that I have someone else who understands what I'm going through."
"And Celeste?"
"Celeste will probably make a dozen inappropriate comments and then ask for details about the sex," Harry said dryly.
Daphne laughed. "Yeah, that sounds about right. But more than that, she'd gloat that her little scheme worked out so well. Remember what she suggested right after I woke up?"
"How can I forget?" Harry snorted as he pulled Daphne close and kissed her one more time. It was tender and full of promise, a seal on everything they'd shared tonight.
"Whatever happens next," he said against her lips, "we're in this together."
"Together," Daphne agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him.
"Ready?" Harry asked.
"Ready."
A sharp crack echoed in the air as they vanished from sight, the clearing and the lake falling into silence once more.
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