Author’s Note: This chapter explores the first public consequences of Harry, Hermione, and Daphne’s unexpected bond.
Rumors spread, loyalties begin to shift, and the trio take their first steps toward reshaping a future that was never meant to exist.
The following morning, none of them needed to discuss what came next.
By silent agreement, Harry, Hermione, and Daphne gathered in the common room shortly after waking.
Harry had already begun thinking of the place as their living room rather than a dormitory common area.
After everything they now shared, it felt far more like a home than a school residence.
Daphne folded her arms and glanced between the other two.
“Well?” she asked.
“Do we go down together and sit together? Or do we keep our distance for now?”
Hermione looked genuinely startled.
“We can do that?” she asked.
“Sit together openly, I mean?”
To Harry’s surprise, he had been wondering the exact same thing.
Daphne nodded.
“Yes. Because of the nature of the bond, it’s not only allowed—it’s actually encouraged.”
Harry considered that for only a moment before saying, “Then let’s start making changes now instead of waiting. If we’re going to cut a couple of Weasleys out of our lives, we might as well begin today.”
Turning to Daphne, he asked, “Are you prepared to sit at the Gryffindor table? It won’t exactly earn you a warm welcome.”
A determined expression settled on her face.
“Harry, we’re mentally seventeen years old. Whatever our bodies say, we’ve already lived through a war.” She lifted her chin.
“I think we can survive a few nasty comments.”
Harry smiled faintly.
“Fair point.”
He reached for his school bag.
“If I remember correctly, I’ve got Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures before lunch, then double Divination afterwards.”
Hermione nodded automatically.
“That sounds right.”
“I’m dropping Divination.”
Both girls looked at him.
“I’ll use the free time for something more useful.”
Daphne immediately narrowed her eyes.
“Hold it right there, Potter.”
Harry blinked.
“What?”
“Why are you dropping Divination?”
“Because it’s useless,” he replied.
“I’d rather spend the time studying Ancient Runes. I was even considering asking McGonagall if I could join the third-year class during that period.”
Hermione looked pleased.
“I’m happy you’re taking your studies more seriously.”
Then her expression tightened.
“But won’t that affect the timeline?”
Daphne gave a dismissive snort.
“The timeline was destroyed the moment our soul bond formed.”
She looked toward Harry.
“And he’s right. Ancient Runes could become extremely valuable later. I’ll owl Mother and ask her to send my previous textbooks.”
“But won’t people start asking questions?”
“Of course they will,” Daphne replied smoothly.
“And if they do, Harry can simply tell them his future wives insisted.”
Harry nearly choked.
Hermione turned bright red.
Daphne looked entirely unapologetic.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s technically true.”
Before either could respond, Harry shifted the subject.
“What about our Occlumency?”
That instantly brought Daphne back to business.
“I’ve been practicing since before Hogwarts,” she explained.
“As for the two of you, the answer is simple.”
She pointed between Harry and Hermione.
“You know absolutely nothing.”
Harry grinned.
“That’s our official story?”
“Exactly.”
Daphne nodded.
“If anyone presses the issue, we suggest it might be connected to the bond and let them draw their own conclusions.”
Her expression sharpened.
“The important thing is that we never confirm anything.”
Hermione frowned.
“But what if someone notices?”
“They can’t.”
Daphne leaned back.
“Think about it. The only way someone discovers our mental shields is by using Legilimency.”
Realization dawned on Harry immediately.
“And that’s illegal.”
“Precisely.”
Daphne smiled.
“Performing Legilimency on minors without proper authorization is a crime. If anyone asks how we acquired strong Occlumency barriers, they’re effectively admitting they broke the law.”
A slow smile spread across Harry’s face.
“So we admit nothing.”
“Correct.”
“We volunteer nothing.”
“Exactly.”
“And let everyone else make assumptions.”
Daphne nodded approvingly.
“Now you’re thinking strategically.”
Hermione bit her lip.
“But what if Professor Dumbledore asks?”
The room immediately grew quieter.
Daphne’s expression hardened.
“You need to stop treating him like some infallible hero, Hermione.”
Hermione lowered her eyes.
“I know.” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
“No,” Daphne replied firmly.
“You know what happened. You know where his decisions led. You know what his mistakes cost the world.”
Hermione winced.
“It’s just difficult.”
Harry spoke before Daphne could continue.
“I understand.”
Both girls looked at him.
“I admired him too.”
Harry sighed.
“Probably almost as much as you did.”
That admission seemed to surprise Hermione.
“But now we know better.”
His voice became firmer.
“We know what happened because of his manipulations, his secrets, and his refusal to trust anyone.”
Harry met Hermione’s eyes.
“He cannot find out we’re from the future.”
“No,” Hermione agreed quietly.
“If he discovers the truth,” Harry continued, “he’ll spend every waking moment trying to get information from us.”
“And he’d never stop,” Daphne added.
“Exactly.”
Harry nodded.
“We’d be watched constantly.”
“And controlled,” said Daphne.
Hermione slowly straightened.
A look of determination replaced her uncertainty.
“Then we don’t tell him.”
“No,” said Harry.
“We don’t.”
Daphne smiled.
“Good.”
Then she rose to her feet.
“New rule.”
Harry raised an eyebrow.
“What rule?”
Daphne pointed at both of them.
“Be resolute.”
Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione.
Both nodded.
Satisfied, Daphne gathered her books.
“Excellent.”
Then she smirked.
“Now remember—we’re fourteen again.”
Together, the three collected their things and headed downstairs toward breakfast.