Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“A lovely day for a climb ‘intit?” A blond head poked up to the level where Harry was lazing on a thick tree branch - he had always enjoyed perching on trees.

Now Harry wasn’t an expert on social cues by any definition, but the last time he checked sitting at the top of a tree, never mind the fact that this particular tree was the infamous ‘Whomping Willow’ and bloody moved, did not signify ‘Entrez-Vous’ so to speak.

Also, it was not a lovely day for it. It was January, in Scotland, which meant sideways rain and a high of let's be generous and say two degrees. Today it was, fortunately, only overcast which in Daphne’s absurd Yorkshire opinion meant it was lovely.

Morty reflected Harry’s displeasure at this turn of events with a loud, croaking, “Caw, Caw.” but was swiftly bribed with a biscuit that Daphne had brought with her.

Oh, dear Merlin, she had planned in advance. What fresh hell was he in for?

Morty immediately hopped from his shoulder to hers, which shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal. Morty’s relationship with Daphne was, after all, as old as Harry’s relationship with her.

They’d all met each other on the Hogwarts express in his first year, and she was curious about the scrawny boy with what she had heard was a raven, she wanted to know whether that meant he was destined for Ravenclaw or if he’d been sorted in advance somehow.

Of course, Morty isn’t a raven. He’s a doddery old hooded crow and was offended by the very accusation that he could be anything else. It had taken her weeks of bribes in the form of bacon and biscuits to win back any form of trust.

Also apparently your choice of familiar has little impact on where the hat would sort you since Morty was certainly not a cat yet he was assigned to the house of the Lions.

Daphne took a seat next to him, in truth practically on top of him and resting much of her weight on his middle, and gave him a once over.

She scoffed, apparently displeased with his choice of attire although Harry failed to see what was wrong with his plain oversized T with his black Hogwarts cloak wrapped loosely around him. She took off her own Slytherin green scarf, made of finer fabric than anything Harry had ever owned and wrapped it carefully around his neck.

“You should be better dressed you know, the chill will get to yah.” She said as she settled back down.

“The cold is rather unlikely to be the thing to finally do me in.” Harry thought of last year's snake incident, and the current, second mass murderer, who was making attempts at his life. What were the odds of that?

“You shouldn’t be riskin’ it, but speakin’ of which are you even supposed to be outside?”

“Nope,” Harry responded flatly, in fact, he was quite literally banned from being out here - something about Sirius Black being a mass murderer and baying for his blood.

“And you are anyways?”

Well obviously, “The same guy that makes all the rules gave a twelve-year-old an invisibility cloak, I have to go on the assumption he knew this would happen.” It was either that or lose any and all faith he had in his protection while at school, and that came with extra stress so he chose to work with the first option.

“Don’t yah think circumstances have changed just a little bit?” Daphne asked, looking down at his lazing body, just because he had a guest did not mean he would give up on his relaxing retreat.

“Not really, no. If anything this is startlingly similar to our first year.” And wasn’t that a fun conclusion to come to, how much of an arse was he in a previous life to deserve this.

“And look at that, yer still as mopey as you were then. Did you really think hiding outside would keep people from checking in on you?” Daphne had always waged an aggressive war against his melancholy, ignoring the fact that he had made his peace with it long ago. It was a waste of time in his opinion but it sure kept her busy.

“Yes actually, I was pretty sure to be entirely honest. I was also pretty sure anyone insane enough to actually go out in this weather wouldn’t be willing to climb the death tree,” The willow shook a little, as if insulted by the comment, “but it would appear that I was wrong.” 

Congratulations Daphne, it was not every day he is proven so thoroughly wrong but he should have learned by now to stop trying to predict what she’d do.

“You are aware you are calling yourself insane for going out in this weather.”

“Please, everyone knows I’m nutters, this is nothing new. There were whole gossip clubs about it last year. Then I kill a snake with a sword, which is quite literally the most insane thing I could even think of, and suddenly everyone's all chummy with me again.” Harry still was not over how a language was considered evil, even if it was snake language.

Daphne sighed, leaning further into him. If anyone saw them like this it would easily be assumed they were a couple, which as far as Harry was aware wasn’t the case, but she was very warm which contrasted nicely against the cold day.

Suddenly the Whomping Willow shifted under them, waving its great branches back and forth. Harry had long prepared for this eventuality, with his legs wrapped around either side of his platform but he knew Daphne wasn’t as well rooted in her position.

Daphne let out a gasp as Harry took his left arm wrapping it around her middle pulling her fully on top of him while his right arm wrapped around the branch to ensure they didn’t fall.

When the floor stopped rocking beneath them they both let out a sigh of relief, before taking note of their current position and Harry felt his cheeks flush.

Daphne’s pale cheeks were as bright a red as his own doubtlessly were, “Well, ‘int this forward mister Potter? I didn’t think you had it in yah.”

Harry wanted to let her go, embarrassed, but he couldn’t very well drop her off the side of the tree, so he swallowed his shame and held her to himself. He could hear Morty’s croaking laugh from his shoulder.

“Ruff, Ruff, Ruff.” A great black mass was growling from the base of the tree, it might very well have been the dog that startled the Willow into movement.

“Oh dear, it’s a Grim, that can’t be good,” Daphne announced as she leaned over the side.

Harry knew this, of course, he had the displeasure of taking divination, and indeed a grim wasn’t a pleasant omen, generally meaning a swift death, but fortunately, omens were always a bit odd around Harry.

Daphne was shivering just a little bit, whether from fear or from the cold Harry didn’t know but the solution was obvious either way, wrapping his right arm as well around her middle.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You’ve met Morty haven’t you, this is no different, just a bit bigger is all.” Harry said, trying to comfort her. He could hear her scoff in disbelief.

Harry continued trying to explain the situation, “You know how I never bought Morty, he just showed up one day, well he wasn’t the first. When I was young, very young I kept pet rats and field mice that played with me since my cousin wouldn’t. As I got older a mangy old black cat took it upon herself to my guardian and finally Morty here just showed up one day and plopped himself on my shoulder, drove my aunt mad.”

Harry chose to omit the time he had a pet bat because that would require mentioning he grew up in a cupboard and Daphne looked stressed enough. Also dealing with emotional trauma was tiring and this was his day off.

Morty was preening, of course, recognizing his name being brought up in conversation.

“So you’ve acquired a collection of dangerous portents and you’re somehow surprised you almost die every year?” Well, when she phrases it like that it sounds like it was somehow his fault people wanted him dead.

“It’s not like I summon them or something, it's probably some weird magic side effect or whatever, but I doubt the grim is here to kill us,” Harry explained what Professor Dumbledore had theorized to him. A side effect of surviving instant death means that animals associated with it are drawn to him for some reason.

The magic dog gave a proper, “Woof.” This time before almost winking at him and bounding off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Could grim’s wink, they were magic creatures and therefore more clever than their mundane counterparts but still. Also what was there to wink about?

Harry groaned, closing his eyes and laying back against the tree. His brain hurt just thinking about weird magical phenomena. He’d come out here to brood in peace and this certainly wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

Apparently, Daphne was in a merciful mood, it took her almost two minutes before she flicked his temple forcing him to open his eyes.

She was looking over her shoulder as he was still holding her to his chest, her long blond hair falling into his face. Harry considered releasing her but, despite the fact that he would never admit it, he found her weight comforting.

“The literal omen of death isn’t enough to drive you back inside?” It was a question but there was a note of resignation in her voice like she already knew the answer, which yeah, he guessed was pretty obvious.

“Nope.”

“Course not.” She mumbled some choice words under her breath which he elected to ignore.

She started fidgeting on top of him, he loosened his grip assuming she would be heading back in, Harry didn’t like the sting he felt when he realized that. Not everyone was weird enough to enjoy just sitting out in the cold like he was.

She didn’t get up though, she pulled something from the pocket of her jacket, a small rectangle, and pulled out her wand. A quick spell later and Harry was astonished to see the rectangle grew into a-

“A book? You brought a book?” He was properly gobsmacked.

“Of course ‘ah did, I’ve long since learned to bet on your stubbornness.” She responded, opening to a folded page.

Apparently, Harry had something to learn about betting on the other’s stubbornness. He leaned back against the wood, closing his eyes, content to enjoy his rest.

Chapter Text

He enjoyed staring up at the stars and constellations from the old astronomy tower. You couldn’t see them like this in Surrey, and definitely not in London.

Harry was alone… again, which felt right given the circumstances. He’d spent his life alone and soon enough he’d die alone.

Sirius had tried, he’d tried so damn hard to be something neither of them knew how to be. The man wasn’t naturally responsible, anyone could see that, nor paternal but he tried, damn them all, he’d tried for Harry

His numb fingers fidgeted with the zippo Morty had nicked from the Black house, a light in the dark flaring and dieing time and again like a little heartbeat in the dark.

At the time he’d felt bad for stealing it but crows are crows and they like to take things, now though-

Now, this was all he had left to remember the only person who’d tried to put him first.

First before his cousin unlike his family, before their own families unlike his friends, before the fucking school unlike the Headmaster, and in the end, first before his own life far too much like his parents.

The man should have been more selfish.

Harry was marked for death already, it was only a matter of time before he slipped up, before Dumbledore’s just a second too late and it will all be over. The words of the prophecy whispered in his head, like Tom’s voice in his ear.

The wind bit at his face, flushing his cheeks but he couldn’t bring himself to care, to even notice really.

What a waste of a life.

Sirius had skills, had memories, had ambitions. He could have rebuilt his life somewhere else, somewhere safe and warm. He could have recovered from his stay in Azkaban and lived a good long life somewhere warm, somewhere under the stars

Instead, he chose to stay with him.

The damn fool.

Perhaps Harry was marked by death, perhaps Morty was a sign that he’d failed to listen to. He knew his friends were already in the infirmary because of him, they’d bear these scars for the rest of their lives.

All because of him.

The three people who’d ever cared for him the most, his father, his mother, and now Sirius were all dead and he should be damned for holding the blade.

The words of the prophecy came back to him, they haunted him. That’s why Tom had come, that’s why he’d come then and that’s why he’s back now. It all circled back to him.

The very thought of it made his skin crawl like he was still possessed, like he would never be free of the madman.

Tonks had handed him a pack of cigarettes when she’d seen his zippo a while back, they were burning a hole in his pocket now. She hadn’t even questioned why a fifteen-year-old had one, never let it be said the noble and most fucking ancient House of Black failed to condone self-destructive tendencies.

He’d been in both Sirius’ and Regulus’ rooms, he’d seen the tobacco stains and the empty packs. As if there was any doubt they’d been smoking the same shite when they were his age.

He took the carton out of his pocket, looking at the Marlboro label. These were supposed to numb him right?

Harry thought feeling numb right now would be pretty good, at least in comparison.

Caring hurt.

Feeling hurt.

Numb though, numb was good.

The zippo’s fire burnt against his finger, the pain was oddly grounding, like it reminded him for a second he was still alive.

He took a moment to check which way the cig was supposed to go before lighting the end, he could smell the burning tobacco as he brought it to his mouth.

“You fuckin’ idiot, what do you think yah’ doing!” A small hand slapped the cigarette away, grinding it underneath a heel. He could only bring himself to look mildly detected at the loss.

Emotions were tiring.

Getting yelled at was easier.

He deserved it too, he was a fucking idiot and now Sirius was dead. Now his friends were hurt and all for nothing.

Suddenly warm arms were wrapped around him and a blond head was shoved into his shoulder.

He could recognize the person easily, he could recognize Daphne by the specific shade of her blond hair, by the cut, or by the smell of her conditioner.

Of course, she had come after him.

Why couldn’t she just see that he was going to get her killed.

She was better off away from him.

Then he heard the sniffles, he noticed she was shaking in his arms, when had he hugged her back?

She was crying. Harry didn’t know how to handle crying girls, he never had. He especially hated that Daphne was crying and if only he could hate himself even more for being the cause.

He just sat there, rocking her back and forth ever so slightly, that was all he knew how to do to make her feel better and if he had to do it till he starved he would willingly.

“I- … I hate it when you get hurt.” She said between sniffles.

“I know, I know.” He was trying to be comforting, she always did get upset when he’d do something dumb in quidditch or get into a fight, which was unfortunately quite often.

“And yet you continue to get hurt anyway.”

“I- I can’t help it… you shou- you should stay away. When I get hurt everyone around me does too.” Harry hated saying it, it hurt him in his heart but it had to be done. The idea that he would be the reason she was hurt is worse than the pain he feels now.

Daphne deliberately unwrapped herself from him, taking a single step back so they were all but nose to nose. The mixture of anger and sadness that accumulated in her pale green eyes made him hurt even more but if upsetting Daphne kept her safe he was willing to do it, just like he’d done before he left for the ministry and he hasn’t regretted it for a damn second.

She reached up a handalmost touching his cheek before slapping him across the face with an impressive ‘Clap’ as his entire head was turned to the side.

“I imagine that means no.” As he rubbed his cheek, he deserved it doubtlessly although it was unlikely he was slapped for the same reasons he believes he should be hit. If she was going based on what Harry deserved she’d be hitting him all night.

“You're a fuckin’ prat, you know that?”

“So you’ve said before.”

“And so I’ll say it again and again and again until you stop being one.” She was hitting his chest to emphasize each again.

She looked up at him, leaning forward till their foreheads were resting against eachother. All Harry could see were her sad green eyes locked on him.

“Do you think Sirius would have wanted this?” She asked.

Harry breathed in harshly, the words hurt more than the hit.

“Do you think he would have wanted you to sit here and waste away? Sit here and play with your damn poison all alone.” She declared pressing a finger into his chest next to where he’d put the cigarette carton.

She tilted her chin slightly and their lips met in a chaste kiss, then another, then a third. They were quick, all over far too quick for Harry’s sake, and her lips tasted like fresh peppermint. Why was everything about her so damn perfect.

“There are people who care about you, who aren’t going to leave you… I’m not going to leave you.” Her nose brushed against his own as she murmured this, almost nuzzling.

He believed her, Sirius had always wanted him to be happy. He’d always adored Daphne from what little he saw or was told of her, both of them had always wanted him to be safe and warm.

“Now come on, your friends are awake and they want to see you.” And she grabbed him by the hands and pulled him away, and his hands weren’t numb anymore.