Harry Potter and the Gift of Memories [Harry Potter Fan Fiction]

Chapter XXXI: A Cry for Help, Part II

 Many people would think that tracking someone in a castle as large as Hogwarts would be impossible. Hogwarts played host to hundreds of rooms, many of which were unused. Finding one person in the many hundreds of rooms was like trying to find a wand at Ollivanders, a long and arduous process indeed.

Many of those people were not Harry Potter.

Harry walked with quiet, confident footsteps down one the many corridors. It was late at night and no one was around. He knew that Filch and his cat were currently prowling around the library at the moment, and several students and teachers were on this floor in the West Wing. No one else was anywhere near his current position.

No one else except for one person.

Harry stopped in front of a partially opened door. All the other doors were closed shut. Whoever had opened it had been in a rush, or was just not very thorough at covering their tracks. Harry believed it to be the former.

Sniffling came from the other end, soft, almost silent crying that contained a distinctly feminine quality. He recognized the voice. Even if it possessed none of the cold, aristocratic tones he'd grown used to. As silently as he could, Harry pushed the door partway open and peered inside.

Daphne Greengrass was there, sitting in front of a mirror, knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around them, as she stared into a mirror with a look of so much pain and longing that Harry actually hesitated with his plan. How could he even think of strong-arming this girl into revealing her secrets? How could he so selfishly use her for his own purposes when she was clearly hurting?

But then, this wasn't just about his alliance with the House of Greengrass, was it? This was about Tracey's worry for her friend as well. And besides, the girl needed help. That much was clear to him. Anything that could crack her mask of ice was obviously serious. Harry didn't know this girl, but a part of him, the part he often suppressed, didn't like seeing her suffer.

He opened the door a little more and silently slipped inside. Apparently not silent enough. Daphne heard his footsteps, or perhaps the door opening. It didn't matter, either way she jumped to her feet, a startled expression on her face.

That expression faded into one of animosity when her eyes landed on Harry.

"Potter," she said coldly, or tried to. Her voice cracked halfway through, containing within it a raw emotion that she couldn't hide. It was a testimony to how horrible she must be feeling that her emotions were so easily visible. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Harry replied somewhat dryly. Daphne tried to sneer, but the effect was ruined by her bloodshot eyes and the tear tracks staining her cheeks. "But I suspect you are here for the same reason I am, exploring the castle. Though..." he tilted his head toward the mirror, "It looks like you've found something interesting to hold your attention. Have you been coming here often?"

"Bugger off, Potter." Daphne's voice still hadn't managed to retain its normal coldness. In fact, it sounded more frightened than anything? Or was it something else?

"Normally I would." Harry walked further into the room. "I know you don't like me, and I try to respect your desire not to get close because of that, but unfortunately, I can't keep away this time. You see, I've noticed that you haven't been looking very well for a while now and, well, I've been a bit worried, to be honest."

"You've been worried about me?" Daphne blinked in confusion several times. She shook her head. The sneer tried to find its place on her features again but failed. "I don't believe you. Why would you be worried about me?"

"Because you're Tracey's friend," was the answer she got, "and she's been worried about you."

"Did Tracey set you up to this?" Daphne's voice suddenly grew rigid and a bit shrill. "I told her to mind her own business, and instead she goes behind my back and asks you to help me!"