Like Fire and Moonlight - Chapter 14: What We Feel

The Christmas holiday seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye. Harry had barely had time to get used to the warm presence of his parents, Sirius’s jokes, and the calm conversations with Remus before he was already packing his trunk for the return to Hogwarts. It was strange how time at home always seemed to slip through his fingers, leaving behind only the echoes of laughter and the warmth of the fireplace.

But as much as he loved being with his family, he couldn’t ignore the growing anxiety in his chest at the thought of going back to school. And, though he hesitated to admit it to himself, part of that anxiety had a name: Daphne Greengrass.

He adjusted the pocket watch Daphne had given him on his wrist, his fingers running over the cold, polished edges of the metal. Since receiving it, he hadn’t been able to part with it. The weight of the gift was a constant reminder of her, something he couldn’t simply ignore.

Harry sighed, tightening his grip on the handle of his trunk as he moved down the corridors of the Hogwarts Express. The train had already started moving, and the familiar sound of metal wheels on the tracks echoed softly around him. Students passed him in small groups, laughing and chatting excitedly about their Christmas holidays, their faces still flushed from the cold outside.

He finally reached the door to the Prefects’ carriage, hesitating for a second before pushing it open with his shoulder. He knew there was no real need for a meeting, but the simple idea of seeing her made him ignore that logic.

When he stepped inside, he realized the carriage was still relatively empty. A few prefects had already settled into their seats, but Daphne wasn’t there yet. He sat down in one of the armchairs near the window, feeling the train gently rock as it moved further away from the snow-covered station.

He looked out the window, watching the landscape blur past, snow-covered trees turning into white streaks as the train picked up speed. He was lost in his thoughts, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the watch’s face, when he heard the carriage door slide open again.

He turned, and his heart gave a small, unexpected leap as he saw Daphne step inside. She looked like she had just stepped in from the cold, her cheeks lightly flushed and her blonde hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders. She wore a dark coat with silver details that contrasted perfectly with her pale skin, and Harry couldn’t help but notice how she seemed both elegant and slightly out of place, like a character from an old novel.

Daphne paused for a second when she saw him, her blue eyes widening slightly before she regained her composure, closing the door behind her and slowly making her way to the armchair across from his.

Harry managed a small smile, his heart still beating faster than he would have liked. “Hey.”

Daphne let out a sigh that seemed to be a mix of relief and nerves, sinking into the armchair in front of him and letting go of her trunk handle with a careful movement. “Hey, Potter.”

They sat in silence for a few seconds, the rhythmic sound of the train filling the space between them. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but it was Daphne who broke the silence first.

“You look... different,” she commented, her eyes briefly flicking to the watch on his wrist before meeting his again.

Harry let out a short laugh, his fingers still playing with the watch’s face. “It’s the holiday effect. I finally got some rest.”

Daphne gave a small smile, something almost imperceptible, but he didn’t miss it. She tilted her head slightly to the side, her blue eyes studying him with a curiosity that made a light warmth creep up his neck.

“And the watch?” she asked, her smile becoming more obvious. “I take it you liked it.”

Harry glanced at his wrist, the silver face of the watch gleaming softly in the carriage’s light. He forced himself to keep his tone casual, though his heart was still racing. “Yeah... I actually like it a lot. It was a good gift.”

Daphne let out a soft laugh, the sound low and almost musical, and Harry realized he was starting to like the sound of it. “Good to know. I was worried you’d set it aside like you do with your Herbology homework.”

Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his lips. “Hey, I’m great at Herbology... when I want to be.”

Daphne shook her head, still smiling, and Harry noticed there was something different in the way she looked at him now. Something softer, less guarded. It was as if, for a brief moment, the usual barriers around her had been set aside.

She adjusted her posture, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of her coat. “By the way,” she said, her tone now softer, almost hesitant, “thanks for the gift.”

Harry felt a warm sensation spread through his chest when he noticed the necklace he had sent her for Christmas, the delicate pendant hanging softly over her dark sweater. He couldn’t help the small surge of pride at realizing she was actually wearing his gift.

“You like it?” he asked, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

Daphne looked at him for a moment, her eyes shining with a mix of surprise and something he couldn’t quite decipher. Then, she opened her coat with a quick motion and pulled down the collar of the sweater she wore underneath, revealing the delicate silver necklace he had chosen for her in Hogsmeade.

“I do,” she replied, her fingers touching the small pendant with an almost unconscious gesture. “More than I thought I would.”

Harry felt his chest warm, a sensation he couldn’t quite explain but that seemed to spread quickly, like a well-brewed potion. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to get tangled on his tongue, and all he managed was a small nod, his eyes locked on hers.

They stayed like that for a few more seconds, the train rocking gently as it rounded a sharper curve, and Harry realized that, in that moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

Daphne finally broke eye contact, her lips curving into a small smile before she leaned over to pull a parchment from her bag.

“So, Potter,” she said, looking back at him with an expression he already knew well — that mix of challenge and provocation that seemed to be her trademark. “Ready to survive our final semester together?”

Harry grinned, feeling his heart beat a little faster as he leaned in closer to her, the watch on his wrist making a soft ticking sound that seemed to match the rhythm of his own heartbeat.

“With you around?” he teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure. I might need a bit more luck.”

Daphne let out a short laugh, her eyes still sparkling. “You’re going to need it, Potter.”

Harry leaned back in his seat, feeling the gentle vibration of the train as the tracks groaned beneath its weight. Now that the other prefects had left, the silence in the carriage felt heavier, as if the very air had grown denser.

Daphne crossed her legs, adjusting the sweater she was wearing, the necklace he had given her glinting slightly in the carriage’s soft light. She let out a small sigh, her eyes fixed on the window for a moment before turning back to him, as if she were gathering the courage to say something.

“So, you really liked the watch,” she said, her eyes briefly flicking to his wrist.

Harry allowed himself a small smile, his fingers unconsciously running over the cool metal. “I did. In fact, I haven’t been able to take it off since you gave it to me.”

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze softening for a brief moment. “I didn’t think it was your style.”

Harry let out a light laugh, leaning in a bit closer. “Are you judging me again?”

She gave a small smile, but then her expression grew more serious, her blue eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made Harry’s stomach tighten.

“You always do that,” she said, her voice low but firm. “You change the subject when things get serious.”

Harry felt his face heat up, but he didn’t look away. He knew she was right, but he wasn’t ready to admit it so easily. “It’s not that,” he started, struggling to find the right words. “I just... I’m not really sure how to deal with these things.”

Daphne let out a small sigh, her shoulders relaxing a bit, as if she had been expecting that response. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her eyes never leaving his.

“Do you regret it?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

Harry frowned, confused. “Regret what?”

She hesitated for a second, but then her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she had decided she wouldn’t back down. “The kisses,” she replied, her fingers still playing with the pendant on the necklace. “What happened in the corridor. And... later, at the party.”

Harry felt his heart pick up speed, the sound of the train’s wheels becoming a distant hum in his ears. He hadn’t expected her to be so direct, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t just avoid the question.

He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening slightly around the armrest of the seat. “No,” he replied, feeling his face grow even warmer. “I don’t regret it.”

Daphne didn’t look away, but he noticed the slight tremor in her hands, which were now clasped together over her knees.

“Neither do I,” she admitted, her voice so quiet that he had to lean in a bit to hear her.

Harry felt his chest tighten, a mix of relief and nervousness that left him momentarily speechless. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to stick in his throat, refusing to come out.

Daphne let out a small sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly as she leaned back in her seat again, her eyes still locked on his. “But that doesn’t change the fact that all of this is... complicated.”

Harry gave a small, nervous smile, trying to ignore the slight tremble in his hands. “When have things between us ever been uncomplicated?”

Daphne let out a soft laugh, her eyes softening for a brief moment. “True.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few seconds, the train gently swaying as it moved along the snow-covered tracks. Harry felt the weight of unspoken words building between them, like an invisible tension that was just waiting to break.

Finally, he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and leaned forward, his eyes still locked on hers. “So, what do we do about this?”

Daphne bit her lower lip, her eyes drifting to the window for a brief moment before returning to him. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “But I don’t think we should just... ignore it.”

Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest, a sensation he couldn’t quite explain but that seemed to radiate quickly, like the heat from a well-cast spell. He opened his mouth to respond, but was abruptly interrupted by the sound of the compartment door sliding open, the sudden noise cutting through the moment like a sharp blade.

They both instinctively pulled back, their eyes still locked for a heartbeat before they turned to face the intruder.

It was Tracy Davies, who paused in the doorway with a confused expression, her eyes quickly darting from Daphne to Harry before narrowing slightly.

“Daphne,” she said, her voice tinged with suspicion. “What are you still doing here?”

Daphne blinked, clearly still trying to regain control of the situation, but quickly straightened her shoulders, her face settling into the cold, unreadable mask that Harry had come to know well.

“Just talking,” she replied, her voice firm, though Harry noticed the slight tremble in her hands as she slowly rose from her seat. “I’m coming.”

She cast one last glance at Harry, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t quite decipher, before turning and walking toward the door, her steps quick and deliberate, as if trying to escape the suffocating tension as fast as possible.

Harry watched her leave, his heart still pounding in his chest, the words he hadn’t managed to say echoing in his mind like an uncast spell.

And, as the door closed behind Daphne, he realized that, despite all the confusion, he didn’t want this to end there.

~HP~

Harry stood still for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the door Daphne had just walked through. The faint scent of her perfume seemed to linger in the air, mixing with the distant sound of the train’s wheels clattering over the icy tracks. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy sigh as he tried to process what had just happened.

He didn’t know exactly what he had expected from that conversation, but it certainly wasn’t this hollow feeling now settling in his chest. Maybe it was the way she had looked at him before leaving, or the slight tremor in her hands as she stood up, but something inside him felt off, like a poorly cast spell he couldn’t quite control.

He glanced down at the watch on his wrist, the cool metal pressing against his warm skin, and felt his chest tighten. Daphne was a mystery he wasn’t sure he wanted to unravel, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to stay away from her.

Harry stayed like that for a few minutes, lost in his own thoughts, until the compartment door slid open again. He straightened instinctively, half-hoping it would be her returning, but felt his body relax when he saw Ron stepping in, his cheeks flushed from the cold and his red hair even messier than usual.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said, flopping down in the seat beside him with an exaggerated sigh. “You disappeared. Hermione was starting to think you’d been kidnapped.”

Harry forced a smile, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just... handling some prefect stuff.”

Ron frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at him. “You alright?”

Harry hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking back to the door Daphne had just walked through. He thought about telling his friend about the conversation, about the kisses he still couldn’t get out of his mind, but something held him back. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t even know what he felt himself, or perhaps it was the fear that saying it out loud would make it all too real.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said finally, giving Ron a light slap on the shoulder to break the tension that had started to build between them. “Come on, let’s find Hermione before she sends the house-elves to track me down.”

Ron snorted, getting up alongside him as they headed for the compartment door. Harry cast one last glance at the seat where Daphne had been sitting, his fingers unconsciously brushing the watch on his wrist before following his friend into the corridor.

They pushed their way past a group of third years who were laughing and shoving each other in the narrow hallway, their faces still flushed from the cold outside and their voices filled with the excitement of returning to school. Harry watched them for a brief moment, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and unease. It was hard to believe that he had once been that eager, with little more to worry about than remembering the password to the common room or avoiding a detention from Filch.

Now, though, everything felt different. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted — not just around him, but within him as well. As if, somehow, he had crossed an invisible line, stepped into unfamiliar territory without even realizing it.

Ron, walking beside him, seemed completely oblivious to the silent tension building between them, his eyes more focused on the floating snack trolleys making their way between the compartments than on anything else.

Finally, they reached the compartment at the front, where Hermione was already settled, her books spread around her like a small fortress of parchment and quills. She looked up as soon as she saw them approaching, her lips curving into a small smile that quickly shifted into a more concerned expression when she noticed the thoughtful look on Harry’s face.

“Harry,” she said, quickly closing the book she’d been reading and straightening in her seat. “Where were you? It felt like you disappeared.”

Harry hesitated for a second, the words catching in his throat. He shot a quick glance at Ron, who just shrugged and flopped down into the seat beside her, already reaching for one of the biscuits she had left on a plate on the small table.

“Just... handling some prefect stuff,” he replied finally, sinking into the seat next to his friend and grabbing a biscuit for himself, more to avoid Hermione’s probing gaze than out of actual hunger.

Hermione frowned, clearly not convinced. “You seem distracted,” she pressed, her brown eyes still locked on him, as if trying to decipher a particularly tricky spell. “Is everything alright?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond but found himself hesitating again. He had no idea how to explain what he was feeling. How could he put into words the confusion Daphne had stirred in him, the whirlwind of thoughts she seemed to ignite with just a single glance?

“Just... a lot on my mind,” he said finally, forcing a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, clearly still skeptical, but chose not to push him further. She let out a small sigh and picked up the book she had set aside, but not without casting another curious glance his way.

Ron, on the other hand, was already too busy munching on his biscuit to notice the tension, his eyes closed in bliss as he chewed with a satisfied expression. “You worry too much, Hermione,” he mumbled between bites.

Hermione rolled her eyes but didn’t comment, turning her attention back to her notes.

Harry leaned back in his seat, the steady clattering of the train tracks below them a comforting, if distant, reminder of the path they were on. But even as he closed his eyes and tried to push the thoughts of Daphne from his mind, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. And he had no idea what to do about it.

Harry let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of the watch on his wrist again, the cold metal pressing against his warm skin. He knew this was just the beginning, that the confusion in his mind wouldn’t fade anytime soon. But for now, he forced himself to relax, letting Ron and Hermione’s lighthearted conversations fill the silence around him as the train sped toward Hogwarts — the school that now seemed more full of possibilities, and complications, than ever before.