Part Lion, Part Snake - MrFunktastic - Harry Potter (2024)

Chapter 1: Resolutions

Chapter Text

A/N - Welcome to Part Lion, Part Snake. Here are the warnings - this fic is “Mature” for a reason. Expect violence, gore, murder, general evil doings and while this isn’t a smut fic, there will be a number of explicit lemons. Hogwarts begins at 14 years of age. Please R&R

Chapter 1 - Resolutions

Highland winds buffeted his face, but he didn't care, even as the air stung his already watering eyes, tears he hadn't even noticed were falling as he stared into space. He looked across the black lake, though he was taking no real notice of his surroundings. He was past caring what was happening right now, he could barely even think…well if you could call repeated flashbacks for days and an utter feeling of hopelessness and humiliation, thinking.

"Kill the spare." He heard as if it was coming from right next to him.

Cedric's lifeless body, his face staring, empty when he hit the floor in front of him, flashed in his mind.

The utter feeling of powerlessness as he was forced to bow to someone who had taken everything from him.

The view of the murderer of his parents from different angles as his body jerked involuntarily on the floor from the white-hot pain of the torture curse.

The scream of Amos Diggory as he realised his son was dead.

Harry was afraid. Although he of course had feared Voldemort's return and had known that it was inevitable, he'd hoped he'd have a few more years left to train or something. Now he was left with fear, he didn't stand a chance. Fear for himself, fear for his friends, and more that, fear that he would fail the wizarding world.

Let's be honest, he'd known from the beginning, from that first day in the Leaky Cauldron that it was going to come down to him or Voldemort. This was only reinforced by what had happened in the last three years, the death of Quirrell by his mere touch, the defeat of Riddle in the Chamber, and of course learning about the betrayal of his parents to Voldemort by that rat, Pettigrew. No matter how he looked at it. Voldemort saw his existence as an insult, even though it was likely his own mother, not Harry, who had defeated him all those years ago.

There was no feeling he hated worse than feeling weak, ever since Harry-hunting had been a Dudley pastime. Voldemort, though, had done more than that. He had toyed with him, tortured him, and truly outclassed him. It was only a stroke of luck, the brother wand's that had saved his life. He'd escaped by the skin of his teeth and everyone knew that he would be the Dark Lord's number one target. He was alone, and by the looks in the eyes of Ron and Hermione, those true looks of pity, they understood how Harry felt perfectly. He was small, he was weak, he was done for.

The stress of that night had sent his senses into overdrive ever since that night, clear PTSD, fight-or-flight, as Hermione had reasoned, he'd been getting these strange bouts of disassociation ever since that night. As Harry felt the presence of someone walking behind him he stopped staring into space and looked again across the lake, he didn't move. He could barely think, no, he didn't want to.

"Harry mate, we've been looking everywhere for you."

It was Neville, Harry recognised the voice speaking loudly, almost shouting over the whistling wind, but didn't look around at him. Snapping out of it, seeing that pitying look in his friend's eyes would be too painful.

"I'm fine, Neville," Harry replied at the same volume, there was no way they would hear each other otherwise. It didn't matter though, he only wanted to be left alone.

"And Lavender just cornered me in the common room and said she wanted to make sweet, sweet love to me."

It took a second to register, but…"God damn It Neville!", Harry thought as the joke dragged him tooth and nail out of his funk and he turned his head to face his friend by his side with a reluctant snort of mirth. One thing he had noticed over the years was that no matter what Neville was always able to bring him around from really sh*t times with a laugh. Harry wondered who'd taught him to do that.

"Oh really?" Harry replied, "And what did you tell her?"

"Oh that she couldn't handle me, of course, and then I went to come and find you."

"I'm alright."

"Bollocks." Neville replied, looking him dead in the eyes, the wind making his tie flutter behind his shoulder in the wind, "I've seen that look, my Uncle Algie has it from time to time. You're just so far away, almost as far away as my parents."

"You've never told me about them."

"I don't tell anyone about them."

Neither spoke, well, shouted for a beat.

"Okay," Harry replied.

"Why are you out here? Trying to get blown away? At least it's not too cold."

More silence. Did Neville know? Harry almost couldn't bear the faces of the people around him anymore. Their looks of fear, their disbelief, the pity, the dwindling hope, the whispering wherever he went. Only one week was left until the end of school but everything was different. Finally… he responded.

"I can't do it, Neville, and they can all see it." He said.

A hand touched his shoulder.

"You can Harry, you aren't on your own, we can help you feel better."

"That's not what I mean… Voldemort. I'm going to have to defeat him, or he's going to kill me."

"You don't know that."

Harry turned to look his friend in his eyes now. He was fed up with Ron and Hermione refusing to admit the reality, refusing to accept that things were going to be different.

"I do, and so do you. You know what's happened, I told you everything. And I'm weak, Neville, he just…He just toyed with me. I was nothing to him."

Now it was Neville's turn to be silent.

"For now."

"For now? For now ?" Harry replied, "There's no way I could ever match him!"

"Why not?" Neville replied. Harry had no choice but to roll his eyes at the ridiculousness of that question.

"Come off it."

"You come off it," Neville said. "You're clearly the one destined to fight him, so clearly, that means you will find a way where you could possibly beat him. You've faced him four times now, and each time you've defied him."

Harry stopped. He hadn't thought about it that way. Did he have a chance? Surely not.

"You know Hermione would have your hide if you told her you put any stock in Divination," he said, smirking.

"There's divination and there's fate," Neville replied, seriously.

"Hmpph" Harry replied. Neville had a point, but that just presented more problems, now, thinking allowed, he continued: "But how long will it take, you know he will target me, my friends. I'll have no one. In fact…"

A horrible epiphany.

"I think it wouldn't be safe for you to be friends with me anymore. I guess I'm destined to be alone. I…I can't ask my friends to put themselves in danger for me."

"Ha, like they'll give you a choice, Harry," Neville replied resolutely. "And I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I know what it's like to feel alone."

"I know, we weren't all great to you in first year. I'm sorry."

"Thanks, but…that's not what I mean. Look… you aren't the only one who grew up without parents."

"You said they were far away, do they work abroad? I know you live with your gran,"

"No, they aren't far away, well, not in the sense you mean…"

Neville took a second and then came to a decision. "Look, in the last war we were visited… by Death Eaters, so I'm told. Two Death Eaters, Barty Crouch Junior and Bellatrix Lestrange used Crucio to torture them until they…well... they're alive but… they aren't. Most of the time they're rarely even there anymore. They spend all their time in a hospital. Occasionally they recognise each other, but that's about it. They can barely move, can't wash, or feed themselves. It's why I have to live with my Gran, but...she and my Uncle already had their own work, and when she took over as Caretaker Head of House in my father's stead she also had to take on the business my mum set up as well. She's had to be so busy that the only real person I spoke to for most of my life was our house elf Nipsy, and Gran even took that away when she Nipsy was making me soft and not like my perfect father. The summer before Hogwarts I barely saw anyone at all, so I just… I know what it's like. Feeling alone. Not having parents… being made to feel weak."

More silence, well, as silent as the bustling wind and rustling trees of the Scottish highlands and grounds of Hogwarts could be. Part of Harry felt ashamed for not asking about Neville's parents earlier, but that was in the past now. It was nice, he admitted to himself that someone else may be feeling or have felt at least a little of what he was feeling.

"Thanks, Neville," Harry said, quieter now, if Neville hadn't been standing so close and watching him so intently might not have read his lips, but he couldn't tell what Harry was thinking. Neville was right, he wasn't alone, and his friends would fight for him. Hadn't Dumbledore said that was what his mother died for, what Voldemort can't understand? Love?

And now the Dark Lord had risen again. If there was a chance…maybe…with the love of his friends…he might be able to make it so no one would ever suffer like they had from Voldemort's power again. But then, what if his friends got hurt too?... no, he would not allow it. At that moment, he made a vow to himself.

No one can die for me. I will never be beaten again.

"Anytime Harry." Neville smiled back at him, bringing the Boy Who Lived back to reality, "Your mum was my Godmum, you know, and there's been an ongoing alliance between Houses Potter and Longbottom since 1487. I couldn't not stick by you even if I didn't think you're a great bloke."

"While I have no idea about the House stuff, I'm grateful you're with me, even if it kinda sounds like you're forced to," Harry said, matching Neville's expression.

"You don't?" said Neville, really surprised, "But you're Head of House Potter, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, how has no one taught you?"

"Taught me what?"

"Your heritage!" Neville said, almost exasperated. "Look, let's get back up to the castle, you're looking for knowledge and power. I've got a book that might be a start."

They started a gradual walk, continuing their conversation.

"So this sacred twenty-eight, that's the Wizengamot, right? I know it's a lot to do with purebloods and noble families, like the Malfoys and Bones. I heard Susan talking about house business, I've seen some stuff about House Alliances in the Prophet, and we've discussed notable families in History of Magic, but I'll be honest Binn's has been super boring. Everyone else seems to be so private in talking about it."

"It's just something that has come on over time in Gryffindor, really. If you haven't noticed there's a disproportionate amount of children in Gryffindor who are muggleborns. A lot of them are completely oblivious and they don't follow a lot of what we call the old ways and there are quite a few old traditions that children born in the muggle world would frown on. Take Hermione for example, she doesn't understand the relationship between House Elves and Family Magics at all. Over the years in our house and a little in the others, bar Slytherin, a lot of traditions have been shunned. Years ago, we didn't celebrate Halloween, for example, but Samm-hein. For muggles it's just a spooky, fun holiday, to dress up and have sweet treats, they don't take it seriously, but those raised in the old ways observe the holiday for what it is - a time when the summer has completely ended and the darkness of winter begins. On that night, the veil between our world and the plane of the afterlife is at its thinnest. Pureblood's light fires to connect with our ancestors, in the olden days of necromancy, we would even sacrifice goats in blood rituals for the chance to gain the chance for ancestors to speak through us and deliver prophecy. Can you imagine people like Hermione going along with things like that?

"Ha, no way." Harry said, "That does sound interesting though, and I don't see why people should be forced to stop long-standing traditions just because some people don't like them. It's not like they were killing goats for no reason, were they?"

"I'm not sure, I completely agree," Neville replied, "Or rather, in this case the current opinion of the "light" side thinks the rituals should be completely outlawed, killing goats is still murder."

"But what if I did it and I could speak to my mum, and she told me how to defeat Voldemort?"

"Therein lies the argument, Harry, traditions are there for a reason, but I'd be careful who you'd share these opinions with for now. As of yet your political stance is assumed to be purely for "the light", you're allegedly Dumbledore's man, through and through. Best to keep your cards close to your chest. Politics is about biding your time, playing your cards close to your chest while you plan, and then following through. It's why there are so many houses in the Wizengamot in Slytherin, they've learned the cunning needed over time."

"Hmm, I don't know whether I'm all that fond of Dumbledore, right now," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders as they crossed a long bridge to the courtyard.

"Yeah, I get it, he did nothing to stop Crouch from serving you up to Voldemort, but he's vouching for you right now, maybe keep quiet about how you feel about him, except to those you trust."

"Thanks, Neville."

"What are allies for?" Neville replied as they got to a door that would lead them into a side hall off the Grand Staircase.

Daphne Greengrass gave a hard sigh of exasperation at the hubbub that was going on in the Slytherin common room. There she was, sitting at a desk by the window, trying and failing to concentrate on the last bit of potions homework Snape had set before the end of term. It was a report on a project she was to write over the summer, research on lunar-harvested magical plants and their effects on the brewing of class -two tinctures and unctions. She ran her fingers through her cascading, honey-coloured hair in frustration, this was a tricky subject and the endless bravado of Draco Malfoy and undivided attention from his sycophants both interrupted her concentration and made her feel sick. What's more, her sister Astoria was one of them, hanging onto his every word.

"So it's true then, the Dark Lord has returned?" a simpering Pansy asked, clutching his arm possessively and giving a snide look at Daphne's sister, who was twirling her short, curly hair between her fingers and stood swaying, cross-legged on the spot, far too close to the Malfoy heir for Daphne's liking.

"I find myself unable to confirm or deny it, rather, my father has asked me not to. However, I will confirm that… recent developments indicate that jumped up Saint Potter's famous defeat may not have been as permanent as we'd been led to believe." Draco finished with a satisfied smirk.

Jesus Christ, Daphne thought to herself, Draco was as subtle as a punch to the face. It was surely his reckless ambition, not cunning that had gotten him invited into the house of the snakes. She knew that it was that ambition that Astoria was attracted to, not to mention the fact that Astoria was the only girl many had ever seen Draco be kind towards. They had a weird relationship and when they were together she seemed to lessen his most bigoted tendencies.

Both Daphne and her sister had been raised as purebloods but only in terms of understanding and maintaining both their family's and the wizarding world's traditions, but in no way did her family subscribe to any of that blood purity nonsense. Anyone with a brain could see that muggleborns were in no way lesser and it was the stance of their family, even though they did outwardly show concern at the decline in the old ways. Daphne's best friend Tracey was a half-blood, and Daphne had fought tooth and nail to ensure that even in their own house her friend was respected.

Astoria was clearly in love with Draco. She had told Daphne herself. She'd even told her that she thought she could change him, turn him away from the poisonous ideals of her father. Daphne thought Draco was just putting on a less bigoted view to please Astoria, but her sister was having none of it, to her it'd been working as well, but in the last months, that effect had diminished after Astoria had spurned his advances. If only Draco knew her reasons for doing so, if only he knew that Astoria would never live to see her seventeenth birthday, things might've been different. The rejection hadn't been her sister's choice, but their father's. Not only would Astoria's fraternising with the son of a member of a dark faction affect his carefully maintained neutral standing in the Wizengamot, but the Greengrasses knew that a marriage contract could never be accepted by family magic. Since the curse on her family years before they were all born, the second-born witch would always die young, never able to continue the bloodline.

Daphne remembered the day her father told her about the curse, the tears that streamed down his face, the memory of the day his second born was born a girl, a day that should have been filled with happiness had turned to despair. Since that day Daphne had resolved to change things, to cure the curse. As of yet, her efforts had been for nought. She'd tried to cure her multiple times but had been banned by her father. One of Daphne's biggest fears was that her father had been right, she'd not only been unable to stop the curse but had sped up its effects.

"You're so knowledgeable Draco, I'm sure you will continue to be so valuable to… your family's efforts. You will purify the wizarding world." Pansy said, continuing the conversation Daphne had missed some of while she'd been lost in thought.

"Don't be ridiculous Pansy," Astoria snarked patronisingly. She edged closer and kissed Draco gently on the cheek "Our Draco is a good man, he doesn't need to sully his honour by purifying anything."

"Like clearing the world of mudbloods would affect his honour. It would be more honourable, it would make him a real man." Pansy snapped, grabbing Draco by his other arm. He was clearly loving the attention.

"Pfft, everyone knows that a real man doesn't need to resort to violence to resolve his problems. Are you saying Draco isn't a real man, Pansy?." Astoria said gently as she took Draco's other arm.

Daphne was furious. Her father had told Astoria not to lead Draco on; and made her promise. Daphne would be in trouble as well if he found out that her sister had disobeyed, she was meant to be keeping an eye on her. She picked up her quill, inkpot, scroll and tome slipped them into her bag and walked straight over to the group.

"Astoria, sister," Daphne said, "We need to talk, I have received information on family matters from our father. It's urgent."

Astoria rolled her eyes and cuddled closer to Draco. "It can wait."

"Draco," Daphne asked, "What is more important than House matters?" Daphne knew what his answer would be before he even gave it.

"Nothing, of course," he responded, puffing out his chest with an air of superiority. He loved being the voice of authority.

"Fine," Astoria snapped with a stomp of her foot. "Let's go to your room."

Astoria marched angrily ahead of her sister through the corridor and into Daphne's bedroom. Daphne had only just shut the door behind them, triggering the silencing effect on all Slytherin rooms when:-

"Don't even start." Astoria said with a glare, hands on her hips "It's only a bit of fun. Besides, with the Dark Lord back, I don't want him to turn bad."

"He's already bad, Astoria," Daphne replied, waving her hands and turning towards a wall in frustration at the conversation that they'd had time and time again.

"No, he isn't! He's what his father made him." her sister replied, raising the volume.

"It doesn't matter regardless! Bad is still bad!"

"You just don't want me to be happy."

"Of course I do, you're my sister."

"No, you don't. I could be with him, just for a short while. I'm going to die Daphne. I just want a bit of fun."

"There's a bit of fun, and there's disobeying our father and making yourself look like a common slu*t. It's unbecoming of you and our house. It's embarrassing."

"Better a slu*t than a frigid bitch Ice Queen who pushes everyone away." Astoria snapped but froze her expression in shock when she saw the hurt in her sister's face and she realised what she'd just said to her. Wow, Astoria hated herself now, she knew the real reason why Daphne was called the Ice Queen. It was hard being the most beautiful girl in their year and the potential trophy wife of every single Slytherin male who made an effort to get into her pants and the Greengrass vault.

Astoria had been there last year when Marcus Flint had tried to force himself onto her sister, to take her virginity so she would be ruined for everyone else. He'd had her pinned down on the grimy floor of a disused classroom in the dungeons, and it had been only sheer luck that Astoria, who'd been looking everywhere for her sister had distracted him by walking in. That moment of distraction had been enough to give Daphne the chance to grab his wand and cast a hasty but fury-fuelled "Glacius" at his private parts.

She'd been known as the Ice Queen since then, both in nickname and demeanour and no one would ever dare mess with her in that way again. Flint on the other hand would deservedly never continue his line. It'd taken a lot of politicking from her father to stop a blood feud being declared on their family. Ice Queen was a name that tormented Daphne, bringing her back to that night where'd been powerless, half-naked on the floor, seconds away from being raped. It had also been a self-fulfilling prophecy, because the funny, fun-loving sister that Astoria had had disappeared underneath a cold and calculating shell, her past self rarely coming to light with anyone but Astoria.

"I'm sorry, I said that you know I didn't mean it was just upset because…" she said to her sister quietly, almost unable to meet her tear-stricken gaze, "I just love him"

"I know, but you know our orders, you know who his father is, and who ours is."

"I just want to feel love before I die."

It was Daphne's turn to try and comfort her sister now and stepped towards her, reached a hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I love you, I'd do anything for you, Astoria." she said "I'd take on the curse myself if I could."

"I know, but you know what I mean, and you know you can't."

"I'll stop the curse."

"Just give up Daphne, don't give me hope. Every generation before us has tried, and one was a potions master."

"But they didn't have me," Daphne replied with grim, staunch determination in her eyes.

They stared evenly at each other but were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Daphne asked.

Tracey came in, all bounces and smiles, brown ponytail swishing behind her, completely oblivious to the conversation that occurred just moments ago.

"Come on Daph, we need to get to the Library," she said, "This stupid Defence project for Dumbledore might take ages, and I ain't starting our holiday homework without some decent notes to go on."

Daphne sighed. She hated DADA, it was her weakest subject. "Fine, it's not like I'll make any less progress than on my potions one."

Chapter 2: They Meet

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - They Meet.

Harry listened animatedly while he and Hermione walked down the Grand Staircase to the library that evening, footsteps echoing on the bald stone.

"I wonder what it says?" Hermione said "I didn't realise there were special books on politics and noble houses. I wonder what it's like? Why didn't you bring it with you? Can I borrow it?"

"I told you, no. Neville asked me to keep it between me and him. It's his family's only copy and is apparently very expensive, only given to heirs of Ancient and Noble families."

"But magical government is fascinating!" Hermione replied, eyes wild with enthusiasm, "Harry, the Ancient houses are the ones that vote on the Wizengamot. The Potter house is one of them, you get to help decide on the laws in the Wizarding World."

"Yes, I know, more pressure," Harry said sarcastically.

"It's a big deal, Harry, think of all the progress we could make."

Harry didn't say that he would be the one making the progress, that Hermione wouldn't get a vote at all, but he definitely thought it. He knew how vehement and unbearable she'd gotten with SPEW and she'd surely go on even bigger crusades if she thought you could essentially manipulate Harry's vote.

"I think the book was more about traditions and behaviour than the Wizengamot by the looks of it. Essentially, how to act like Malfoy." Harry replied, trying to put her off the idea.

"Or Neville," Hermione pointed out, "He acts pretty honourably."

"Of course he does, it's Neville, he's great."

"I didn't realise you were that close."

"I realised recently we had a lot more in common than I thought, plus he's really funny, he helped me get out of my funk recently."

"I had noticed, I just didn't want to pressure you to tell me anything."

"Anyway, yeah he follows the traditions I think, you see him doing those weird bows and stuff."

"It's only to Susan really, though, and loads of people bow at her, even Malfoy does it."

"True, it's like she's royalty sometimes. I bet she thinks she's the Queen!"

Harry rolled his eyes in amusem*nt at Hermione's grin at her own joke as they arrived in the library and made their way to a desk to get set up for a study session. Hermione started work on her Transfiguration essay, but tonight Harry was after something else. Something to give him an edge. He needed to believe that Neville was right, that he was destined to find something that would be the key to him beating Voldemort once and for all. But where to start?

He started wandering the aisles of shelves, glancing at subjects indicated by the plaques affixed to the end of each row.

"Magical creatures, no, force-based charms, no matter manipulation charms, inanimate to inanimate transfiguration, no, elemental charms… that could be interesting." he thought. He wandered down the aisle, looking at the titles, finally settling on "Light Manipulation, for Secrecy and Combat, by Helios Lux." He reasoned that if there were curses that were the darkest of dark, then surely spells around light were effective spells that could be able to counter them, right?" Even if not, spells around secrecy and evading detection would surely be helpful.

As he pulled down the heavy book and began flicking through the yellow pages over parchment, he heard a frustrated, but musical voice coming from an alcove at the end of the row. He kinda recognised it, he thought, but he had no idea who it was.

"Who knew Professor Dumbledore would love giving impossible spells to research for homework? How on earth am I meant to understand this stupid theory, it doesn't make sense. It's protego for Merlin's sake! Father said in the last war the Death Eaters wouldn't stop trying to recruit him, and it almost came to blows. If there's anything that seems like it's important to learn, it's this."

"More important than hexing Draco's bit off for touching your sister?"

An adorable laugh preceded a "Yes!"

Harry continued to flick through the book, though more absentmindedly rather than taking anything in. Maybe it was Susan and Hannah? Did Susan have a sister? They were talking about the end-of-year assignment that Dumbledore had set them after all. He'd cancelled all exams after what had happened and asked all the teachers to set summer research projects. Everyone had noticed that these assignments were mainly centred around defending oneself. Either way, he knew the protego charm like the back of his hand. He'd had to learn as many defensive spells as he could this year training for the Tournament.

"Ugh, how did Potter even do it in class? He's such a show-off! It makes no sense, how can something be both solid and not? I bet he's teaching Weasley to do it right now?"

Harry smirked, he would make Susan eat her words here, show her he'd been listening.

"Hey, would you like some…" he started, walking to the end of the row of books, expecting to see a couple of Hufflepuffs at the table that was set in the alcove.

But it wasn't, it was two Slytherins he'd definitely noticed in the past, but never dared speak to, believing up until hearing the conversation he'd just heard that everyone in their year worshipped Draco Malfoy.

Daphne Greengrass, though, was a name that was seared into the mind of every red-blooded male in her year. Supremely pretty, with long, cascading, waist-long golden hair and the most beautiful bright, blue-grey eyes. Dean once said he could write a sonnet about those eyes, the irises surrounded with a defining, thin, black ring that just made them pop. Her body was to die for, as she'd started developing early and she was the oldest in their year. She already had full, round breasts and while she was still very short, around 5 foot 3, her bottom was widely hailed as the best in the school. Hell, many thought she was the most beautiful girl in the school. No wonder she had such a bitch reputation. Harry had even heard she'd frozen Marcus Flint's bits off just for asking her to Hogsmeade. If that was true, while it seemed unbelievably harsh, Harry had been grateful. Last year the Slytherin quidditch team had lost because of the replacement they'd needed for their last two games.

Tracey Davis was widely known to be her best friend and had a reputation of being formidable, purely because a half-blood managed to be respected in the house of the snakes. Bright and bubbly, tall, with a round but attractive face and thin, mousy brown hair, she was always at her best friend's side and spent a lot of the time spurning off repeated suitors that made their advances on Daphne, though it mostly consisted of her asking if they wanted their bits frozen.

It was Daphne's piercing, calculating eyes though that met Harry's. She raised a beautifully plucked, arched eyebrow and coldly said:

"Yes?"

The two girls were nothing but intimidating, but he'd already started and while he cursed himself for stumbling, his newfound willpower helped him manage to continue what he wanted to say.

"I er...just wondered if you wanted some help with that spell. It took me a while to get it down last year but it was much easier when I understood the theory." Harry's stomach flipped as he looked between the pair.

"And why would you like to help us? Aren't all Slytherin's eeeevil?" Tracey asked, waggling her fingers in the air fake-ominously.

"I don't know," Harry asked, smirking "Are you?"

"Oh definitely," Tracey responded, laughing. Daphne didn't seem to ease into the conversation quite so quickly.

"Me too," Harry replied with a grin.

"Oh come off it," Daphne replied haughtily, "You're Dumbledore's pet, everyone knows that!"

"Am I?" Harry snapped, not knowing where this anger had come from "Even after Dumbledore managed to keep me oh so safe this year."

Daphne raised her eyebrows at him, placing her hands on her lap in a way that he knew he'd gone a little far. Hadn't Neville said to keep his cards close to his chest?

"Sorry," Harry said, "I guess I'm a bit touchy about it. A lot of people think they know me. They do nothing but either hate me, talk about me, or worship me for something I had control over. I'd do anything to not be the Boy Who Lived. I'm just Harry.``

Daphne's features softened. She knew the feeling of being worshipped.

"I'm sorry too." she replied "People assume things about me all the time. It's infuriating."

Tracey's mouth gaped at Daphne's concession, when was the last time Daphne ever apologised to anyone?

"It is," Harry said with a smile.

"I don't know if you should help us though, Draco would have my hide. What if someone sees?" Daphne asked, frowning

"f*ck Draco." Harry said, incredulously "Do you really care what he thinks?"

"No way!" Daphne replied, nostrils flaring "It would just cause me trouble, that's all"

"Ah, but wouldn't the shield charm protect you from that trouble?" Harry answered with a smile.

Tracey burst out laughing. "He's got you there, Daph!"

"I'm not gonna ask again," Harry said, going to turn, "If you don't want my help-"

"We do," Tracey interrupted, looking at her friend, "Don't we?"

Hesitantly, Daphne nodded.

Harry smiled and walked to the desk and sat opposite them. Trying to ignore the intoxicating smell of perfume coming from either of them, he asked "So, where are you up to?"

Daphne took the textbook, turned it around and slid it across the desk. As she leaned forward to point out something in the text Harry couldn't help but steal a glance as the top of her white cotton blouse billowed open slightly to reveal a glimpse of a flawless, pale cleavage. He just hoped she hadn't noticed and deliberately made an effort to place a finger next to hers on the yellowing parchment to show that he was concentrating, which he was trying his best to do, regardless of the slight burgeoning tightening in the trouser region.

"This bit," she explained "How does the spell let friendly spells through but not unfriendly ones? It says something about presence and nonpresence at the same time, but I have no idea what he's on about. And why does that matter when I'm casting it?"

"Okay," Harry started, making an effort to speak to both of them, not just Daphne, "So…you need to think about it as if you were in a fight, and you cast Protego. You saw it in the class, right, you remember when Dumbledore cast those stinging hexes at me, my shield changed from see-through, to solid?"

Both girls nodded and Harry continued.

"It's about the time when it's see-through. When you cast, your need to shield yourself is based on your understanding of the threat, or who it's coming from. Otherwise, why cast the shield in the first place right? Well when learning the spell, that's where people get stuck. Most charms we cast are based on expecting an immediate result. You cast Wingardium Leviosa, the feather floats immediately, and you can only maintain it on one item at a time. But what if you need to shield from multiple spells at once? You don't want to have to create a shield for each spell. It's why protego is so useful. The size of your shield depends on the magical power of the wizard, some people can only make a shield the size of a dinner plate, most the size of a medieval shield, the bigger the more powerful the wizard."

"But you can cast one twice the size of you!" Tracey interrupted.

"I can," Harry replied with an easy smile and nod at her.

"That's impressive Potter," Daphne said, "I didn't know you had it in you."

Tracey smirked, she knew her friend, a consummate Slytherin, really liked the idea of power. She'd admitted once that she'd had the hots for Oliver Wood at one point when she'd seen him practising for his charms final. He'd been in the grounds, surrounding himself with 3 spheres of different elements, spinning around him at high speed. Tracey thought she found it hot because it meant the guy would be able to protect her, but she didn't dare admit it to Daphne. She hated the idea of being submissive to anyone.

"So were they right then?" Tracey said. "Can you cast a full Patronus? They said you fought a couple of hundred Dementors off last year."

"Oh yeah, Professor Lupin taught me," Harry said proudly before frowning, "I…had to learn it because they made me…"

"Yeah you had a bad time with them I heard," Daphne said, thinking it'd been a long while since she'd had an easy conversation with a boy where she hadn't had an ulterior motive, she was pleased to talk to him about something he was clearly interested in. Her thoughts about this had made her miss his change in expression "It's cause they made you pass out right?" They did for my sister. They said it's something to do with your…"

She paused, going white as she realised what she was saying.

Harry went red, "Your memories, yeah."

Tracey, ever the blabbermouth but endlessly curious and about as sensitive as a rock, couldn't help herself, asking "You mean you remember him? That night? You saw him when you saw the Dementors?"

Harry paused, wondering whether or not to tell them. The girls seemed friendly, and while it might be a bit revealing, at least they might not see him as weak if they knew.

"No, I could hear my screaming mother."

They were all silent. Tracey swallowed and opened her mouth in apology.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, holding a hand up, "I chose to tell you, but at least you know why I was so motivated. This stuff is important. Where were we?"

Daphne, having found her voice, swallowed and said "You were talking about the size of the shield."

"Ah yes. Okay, so it can be detrimental having a large shield as the more spells hit it, the greater the drain on your magic. That's why the state of the shield is important. You might need to keep a large shield while others cast for you. You don't actually need the intent when you cast the spell. When you simply make the wand movement, you can create your shield and adjust the power you put into it to make whatever sized shield you want."

He tried to say this to both Daphne and Tracey, but at this point, it was only Daphne who was trying to engage with him, Tracey was too busy feeling ashamed of herself and was staring at the desk.

"You can intentionally change the power you put into it?" Daphne asked.

"You can do that with any spell," Harry answered, as though it was obvious.

"How?" she said, sitting up and leaning closer with interest.

"Yep", Harry thought, "That perfume's definitely coming from her."

"That's a whole other thing." He said, "For most people, there's quite a bit of innate control, like when you cast incendio on a candle most people don't automatically burn the whole table. Sometimes, though, you might want to change your power output. After we're done, I'll find you a book I used this year that taught me."

"Thanks," Daphne said, gratefully, looking into his eyes and smiling at him. How were they so green? Ugh, he could see why so many girls were talking about him, but she wouldn't allow herself to get all giddy over a boy. Besides he was just being nice to her because he only wanted one thing.

"No worries. Right, so here's the important bit…you with us Tracey?" He asked.

This seemed to snap her right out of her daze and she nodded as he smiled encouragingly at her.

"The reason why intent is so important is because the intent is essentially re-added, recast into the spell every time you want to block something. If we were in a classroom I could show you but… when channelling the spell-shield in its neutral state it won't block anything, but when you decide you want to block any given spell it becomes solid to intercept it. The trick is you have to decide when you want to block each one while the spell is cast. This takes up a lot of attention, and holding the shield takes your wand out of the fight while you're holding it up. That's why there's such a demand for Wit-Sharpening Potions by the DMLE. In some combat-Auror squads, they have a dedicated shielding expert."

"So why wasn't I able to cast it?" Tracey asked then, confused.

"Were you trying to cast straight into the solid state, the "protect" state, to defend against something?"

"Well… yeah," she said, biting her lip in annoyance.

"There you go then, it's nothing to be annoyed about, but you need to cast it initially without the intent, the intent is applied when you see the spell and decide to block it."

"So could you cast it and make it solid and then unsolid whenever you want?" Daphne asked, thinking she was finally getting it.

"If spells were coming at you, yeah. The best Shield-Aurors can keep their protego in a neutral state until the last possible moment before the enemy spell strikes it, make it solid, and then bring it back to a neutral state again so their allies can cast the other way. The weird bit is, you can't lie to your wand if you don't perceive any actual threat. There's no impetus for legitimate intent to protect from anything, you could try, but the shield won't change."

"Wow, I think I get it. Thanks." Daphne said gratefully, gave a small smile and then pursed her lips. She wasn't sure about him, there was no way he could be this nice.

"No problem," Harry said, standing to get up, "I'll go grab that other book."

Minutes later he returned and slid "Magical Reserves and Variable Spell Power" by Lucian Variablus across the desk. Daphne and Tracey were packing their things away.

"Here you go," Harry said, smiling.

"Thanks, Potter." Daphne said, "You aren't anything like Malfoy says you are."

"What's that?" Harry asked, curious.

"Full of himself, loves his fame."

"Ha, my fame is the worst, I'd give anything to be invisible sometimes."

Daphne smiled and said "I know what you mean.", but then dropped her expression. This was way too friendly, she was furious with herself at the power this knowledgeable, kind guy seemed to be having over her emotions. The power he was giving to her. He couldn't be this way, she told herself. Harry Potter just wanted what they all wanted, a contract and a way into her knickers.

"You aren't as mean as I've heard you are either." Harry joked.

"I can be if you're not being nice just to get in my pants," she said with a warning glare.

"I'm not trying to get into your pants," Harry said evenly, not backing down from their gaze, not that that didn't sound like a great idea, he would have no idea what to do if he did.

"You aren't wearing pants." Tracey pointed out with a grin.

"You're right, I'm not." Daphne said with a laugh, winked saucily, went bright red, and then jumped up with a grin, "Cause…I'm wearing a skirt, see."

Harry, who had gulped at the innuendo, looked everywhere he could. Tracey just stared at Daphne dumbfounded. She'd never said anything like that to a boy, ever.

Harry was just dumbfounded, he'd been stunned stupid as she'd batted her long, mascaraed eyelashes at him for a second, and only her little joke had broken the ice. Did she like him? Daphne? Dare he push here, or would she hex his bits off? Aw, hell, he was a Gryffindor.

"You know if you want me to show you guys the spell we can find a classroom somewhere."

"Sorry Potter, if Malfoy saw us." Tracey replied, "I don't care what he thinks, but he could make life very difficult for us. You might be an heir like he is, and from a higher house, but he has a lot of influence."

Harry sighed in disappointment, the excited feeling that he maybe could've spent more time with these two pretty girls, more time with Daphne the hottest girl he'd ever met, sank in him like a lead balloon.

"Besides, it's a full moon. I've got a late-night Herbology project with Sprout." Daphne said.

"Okay, never mind then," Harry grumbled and moved to leave.

"But you can call me, Daphne, if you like," she called at him.

Wow, that was a big thing with Purebloods, even Harry knew that. Permission to use first names was a sign of friendship. He guessed he could settle for that, it was a shame, though.

"It's Harry to you too, then, both of you" Harry added.

"Tracey," the taller girl said "Thanks again Harry, we'll see you later."

"I hope so, it's a shame we couldn't hang out more."

"Don't push it, Harry," Daphne said, her eyes displaying the cold frost that she was known for as she thought she would regret giving first name permissions to a guy who didn't understand the word no, "I said I wasn't interested."

"Hey, I'm not pressuring you," Harry said, holding his hands up to concede. Wow, this girl was touchy.

"It's okay Harry, Daphne just has a lot of boys chasing her, people get a bit…pushy."

Harry nodded with understanding.

"I'm sorry, like I said, I won't push," he replied.

"Don't worry about it," Tracey said "Besides, it's a full moon. We've got a late-night Herbology project with Sprout."

"I didn't know you liked herbology," Harry said, nodding towards Daphne, trying to keep looking at her eyes as in her standoffish stance she had her arms folded underneath her breasts.

"Why do you care? Is it any of your business what I like? Why are you still pushing?" she snarked.

"I'm not! You just gave me permission to use your name. That indicates friendship. As a friend, I thought it would be good to maybe take an interest in your interests as that's what friends do, don't they? What's indicated to you at any point in this conversation that I was interested in you in that way? I just thought if you liked Herbology then I thought you might know my friend Neville, it's his favourite subject and he's pretty much an expert, maybe he could've helped you with your project."

It was Daphne's turn to look at her feet now. He'd been nothing but friendly and pleasant to her. He was right, he hadn't flirted with her, even though she'd noticed him sneak a quick look down at her boobs when she'd leaned forward to point out where she was up to in their textbook. Who could blame him though? He was a red-blooded male and even she knew that they were very good boobs, Millicent had told her so and she'd stolen a muggle p*rn magazine from Terry Higgs's trunk. That didn't mean he was romantically interested in her.

Hell, she'd been the one who had implied she hadn't been wearing any knickers! Why had she done that? Why had she been the one that flirted? So what if he was friendly and powerful and knowledgeable and he'd spoken to Tracey and engaged her just as much as she had Daphne, which no one ever did? Why had she snapped at him? Still, she couldn't apologise, give him the power, though a little voice in her head said "Yeah but you would like him to overpower you, wouldn't you? He's already making butterflies go in your stomach right now." Deliberately ignoring it, she just tried to continue the conversation, to show they wouldn't end things on this unfriendly level.

“Heir Longbottom. I'm aware of him," she said, with a nod, and then with a smirk and a nudge at her friend, "Tracey is very aware of him."

Eyes wide, Tracey exclaimed, "Get lost!" In a volume that made the well-known "shhhh" of Madam Pince find its way to where they were.

"What?" Daphne said, continuing the wind up "Didn't I hear you tell Millicent you'd like to get him into a broom cupboard"

Tracey, boiled over in embarrassment, clenching and unclenching her fist and went to open her mouth to reply, but Harry beat her to the punch.

"Ohh really?" Harry interjected, mirth in his eyes and a quick glance at smirking Daphne "I could tell him you like him if you like. Introduce you?"

"Don't you dare!" Tracey snapped with a glare.

"Ah so you don't like him, I'll tell him you don't like him then," he answered with a grin.

"Uh…er…I didn't say that."

"Okay," Harry said, making out that he'd ended the joke "So I won't.

"Promise?" Tracey said, nervously. Truth be told she knew Harry about as much as Daphne did, and that wasn't a lot.

"I promise I definitely won't not never keep quiet about how you might or might not want to take a ride on Neville's broomstick. Bye!"

With that, Harry made a hasty escape, and judging by the raucous laughter from Daphne and Tracey's frustrated gasp and shout after him it seemed like he'd left it on good terms with the pair. What he didn't hear Daphne ask Tracey though was:

"Why do you think he wasn't interested in me?"

He got back to the desk and looked down at his chosen text and was presented with a dilemma. How on earth was he meant to concentrate on this text when he could see the blue of her eyes every time he closed his?

Chapter 3: Old Magics, Young Might

Chapter Text

History of Magic was dull. The final fourth-year class of the year wasn't any less dull and dreary than every single one they'd had, ever.. Granted, there were only two days left, so the jittery anticipation of the students was undeniable as they looked forward to time with their families. Harry, on the other hand, was dreading it. Sure he had the new books, the one on light-based magic and the one Neville had given him to try and improve his skills, but he would still have to endure the Dursleys for however long Dumbledore felt was necessary. How on earth was he able to train to defeat Voldemort if he wasn't even allowed to cast magic outside school?

The slumber-inducing drone of the late Professor Binns nearly had the whole class to sleep as the ghost incessantly plodded on through another Goblin rebellion, but Harry wasn't listening. He was too busy looking through the book Neville had given him, reading about Noble Houses and family trees. It turned out he was part of an Ancient and Noble House, the third highest in the Wizengamot. The only families higher than those were the "Most Ancient and Noble", of which only three remained active, the Blacks, the Greengrasses and the Bones. The class above them was the Great Seven, though each family and their family magics had been dormant for at least five hundred years. The last of these Great Seven to have had a member had been the Peverells. The other houses were the Hogwarts Four, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. There was also house Emrys, Merlin's house and house Purethorn, who he'd never heard of. These families would've usually held the most sway in the Wizengamot, and their proposals for new actions or laws didn't have to be seconded by another house. Great Seven statements were all to be heard, but just like with other houses, were to be questioned, debated and voted on. The Great Seven each had seven votes and took up twenty-eight percent of all of the one hundred possible Wizengamot votes. It was just a shame that no one was ever there to use them.

Harry moved on to the information about the places within houses. It was as to be expected, the families had a head and heir, a second, third and fourth in line. The heir didn't have the same powers as the Head of House, and couldn't vote, however, they came above second ranks amongst members of noble families of the same calibre, and they often had access to some family magics. Harry wondered whether Voldemort's rise had been because maybe he'd had access to Slytherin's library, being the heir of Slytherin. Maybe he might've had a chance at beating Voldemort if he'd had access to that sort of information. A guy could dream. But then Harry stopped, a sudden epiphany sprang into his mind and dropped the book he was reading with a slam. Several sets of bleary eyes turned and looked around at him annoyedly, except for the oblivious Professor Binns of course, but Harry didn't care. What he thought now, excited him:

Slytherins Library must be in the Chamber of Secrets.

He was silent most of the way through dinner, but that wasn't that unusual for Harry. It just ensured that Ron, Hermione and Neville had done their usual thing of checking if he was okay, pitying him with his eyes and patting him on the shoulder.

Ron had complained as usual that: "He needed to stop brooding mate, it's summer soon." but Hermione had snapped at him in response - "Harry saw someone killed, Ronald. Get some f*cking sensitivity." The coarse language from Hermione had even made the Hufflepuffs on the long bench next to them stop what they were doing and look around., but it wasn't Cedric he was thinking about. What he was really wondering was at what point that evening he would be able to give Ron and Hermione the slip and try to make his way down into the Chamber.

He ended up having to wait til everyone had gone to bed. He'd been thinking about how he managed to get out last time and realised he might need to fly, but there was no way he would've been able to grab his broomstick without Ron asking to come out for a fly with him. He'd been asking him for days, adamant that a bit of flying would cheer him up. He'd even been to the Quidditch pitch with Ron for a bit last week, but it hadn't done much if he was honest.

It hadn't taken him long to get to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom with the help of the Marauder's Map. Sure it'd been a bit tricky to get his Firebolt under the invisibility cloak and keep it hidden the whole time but with a bit of effort, he'd made it. What he hadn't expected, though, was that fuzzy feeling building up again. The lack of focus threatened as vague flashbacks of the Graveyard began to take hold again. He recognised it though now, what it felt like. He wouldn't get lost in it, he had a job to do and he only felt that way because this was where he'd faced Voldemort before. He would regret bringing Harry to this place, but Harry was determined. It would be his downfall.

"And there's the damn basilisk" he thought minutes later as he made his way into the Chamber of Secrets and saw the corpse of his fallen foe, its scales still glittering in the pale green torchlight. Just like before, parseltongue commands had granted him entry, but after he walked around the Chamber for fifteen minutes Harry just felt stupid. There were no other rooms, no hidden bookcases or treasure chests or anything. Only the still-open mouth hole in the huge sculpted Slytherin head's mouth at the far end of the Chamber suggested another room, but surely that was just where the Basilisk had nested. With nowhere else to go though, he thought he might as well have a look. To begin with, Harry thought he had been right. His lumos-light in the dark room showed animal bones littered the floor and what must've been dried-out droppings, as well as bits of previously shed skin that had since decayed and crumbled into bits. Unfortunately, no bookcases. With frustrated determination, he walked his way around the room until finally something a bit curious shone in his wand light. It was an ornate, solid silver handle, like an old-fashioned door knocker, just hanging from the solid dark rock.

Harry grasped the cold metal and instantly regretted his decision. It went from ice cold to red hot in a flash, and when he tried to snatch his hand away he found that he couldn't release his grip. Panicking, he looked for anything around the room that might help him. Damn, no one knew where he was! Why didn't he tell anyone where he was going? Cursing himself for being such a moron, he thought about trying to send a Patronus or something but realised he didn't know how to send a message with it yet anyway. Thankfully though, the metal cooled down again, and while he wasn't yet able to release his grip, the pain lessened, and Harry watched in fascination as the edges of a doorframe came into being like a laser cutting through a metal bank vault he'd seen in a movie as a child at Mrs Figg's. As the full shape of the frame came into being, however, Harry could do nothing but cheer into the echoing cavern as the whole piece of stone simply faded away to reveal exactly what he'd been looking for.

It was huge. A crackling fireplace gave off a comfortable warmth that illuminated a vast library, at least as large as the Chamber itself, with rows that seemed to go on and on into darkness. Harry couldn't believe it. He walked over to a large desk, running his fingers along the embossed title of a large, dust-covered, cracked leather tome still perched upon an exceedingly old but still serviceable wooden desk Harry couldn't help but say his thoughts aloud.

"How… how did I get in...I'm not the heir."

"You're right, you are not." A stern voice sounded to the left of him. Looking towards the source of the noise, Harry saw it was a portrait and as he stepped towards it, realised even without a title he knew who this was.

"You're Salazar Slytherin," Harry said in astonishment.

The portrait depicted the ancient wizard sitting in the very room Harry was now standing in, surrounded by books and with a single candlelight illuminating his eyes and drawing attention more to his long, wispy silver moustache rather than his extravagant emerald robes. The portrait rolled his eyes at him.

"Well if that's an indication of your intellect, I regret making the killer of my basilisk protector into Lord Slytherin. More brawn than brains, are you?"

Harry wasn't sure of that tone, it reminded him a bit of Aunt Marge, all pomposity and fake grandeur, but maybe he had a right to be. He was Salazar Slytherin after all.

"Absolutely not, sir, I was just amazed to see you."

"As you should be," the portrait replied. "I did create this school, you know."

"Wait," Harry said, his aforementioned brain just catching up, "What did you mean "making the killer of your protector Lord Slytherin"? I thought Tom Riddle was the heir of Slytherin."

"Absolutely not!" Salazar snapped, making Harry step back "I would never bestow that honour on such an insane megalomaniac."

"But isn't he blood?"

"And? What on earth makes you think that I consider blood over quality of character? I don't care who you are, muggleborn, half-blood, pureblood. It's all magic."

"What? The legends say you created this Chamber to purge this school of muggleborns."

"How dare they! My legacy is not one of hatred and intolerance. I did nothing for this world but try to keep all magic safe! My argument with Gryffindor was that muggleborns would live in the castle year-round, to protect them from the unrelenting persecution that muggles were inflicting on our kind, regardless of how it would affect their families. The preservation of magic was more important than their feelings. The Basilisk was a guardian to protect entry to this very chamber, to preserve the powerful knowledge within and of course, my portrait. Riddle, that miscreant, thought he was entitled to my knowledge and even though I can see into the Chamber he never managed to enter this room. He was able to work out how to release my protector, but of course, this was its very purpose and initially, it was made to attack him. How was I supposed to know he could turn that sweet snake into an abomination, sure it was hungry, but to command it to murder?!

"Wow. This is gonna make waves, you know. That's not who the wizarding world thinks you were at all.."

"And you are the one that must make them. Ever since I created this Chamber I knew that while my sister would bear an heir for the family via a line continuation contract, I could never have a direct bloodline of my own. I never found myself attracted to another. Instead, I vowed that only a parselmouth, a man that my portrait could tell was honourable, of good stock, and was powerful and valourous enough to defeat my own basilisk, would be named head of my house. Such would be the time that the world was at a place again where his power could impact the world as I had, to bring glory to the name. The moment my magic granted you entrance, you became my heir. You are now Lord Slytherin-Potter, my name being of higher standing than even your honourable house's status deciding the order your names present."

Harry could do nothing but sit on the desk chair in shock at the news. Staring at the floor, he tried but completely failed to understand how this might affect his life. The only thing he knew was that he knew nothing, not really. All he knew was that he was still underage and now he wouldn't be able to present at the Wizengamot anyway. He'd already worked out he couldn't sit on his Potter seat until he hit twenty-one. Bringing back house Slytherin was a lot of pressure as if he didn't have enough of that already! He spent a good twenty seconds trying to think and eventually thought maybe he should think of a question to ask the portrait, but he was so out of his depth and in his daze just said the first thing that came to mind:

"There…there hasn't been a member from the Great Seven sitting in the Wizengamot in half a century, and besides, I'm not of age."

"You are now, the magic chose you." Slytherin's portrait replied. "You're emancipated, otherwise you wouldn't be able to carry out your duties."

Well, that statement widened Harry's eyes for him.

"You mean I can do magic outside of school?" he asked, excitedly.

"As long as it's not in front of muggles."

"Wow." Harry's mind reeled at the possibilities, wouldn't that mean he could finally get his own back on the Dursleys, they already knew about magic. Better yet, he would even be able to study spells to defeat Voldemort somehow. He just gained a lot more spare time over the holidays.

"Now, listen, you're going to have to go soon. In the top drawer on my desk is the necklace. It acts in place of the House ring to others as well as a Portkey to this Chamber that bypasses the Hogwarts Wards, you can come back here any time. On the desk is the book of houses, study it, learn from it, learn who knows who and who is related to who. You will declare your rise to power at the next Wizengamot session, which unless I'm mistaken will be three weeks hence, keep the pendant under your shirt until then. I'm also going to give you a list of books to read. You will also come back here to train. We need not discuss your mission. I know what it is, and after what that bastard did to my snake, to this school I will not rest until you can blast him to ribbons. However, it is now five am, and people will be rising soon. You going missing will not go unnoticed.

"What?"

"The testing takes a while."

"But it felt like minutes."

"Well I wouldn't want it to feel like I'd been burning your palm for 6 hours, would I? Even if I was absorbing all of your memories, processing them and deciding how my magic would react to you gaining Lordship." the portrait said, with a smirk, "Now, write these down, and I'll tell you where the other books are, grab the necklace and be off with you, I've got brooding to do."

"Yes sir."

"It is Salazar."

"Yes, Salazar."

"Remember, you are of the Great Seven now, you are subservient to no one."

"Yes, Salazar."

Harry's mind was absolutely reeling when he got back to the common room, but the consequences of time dilation and the excitement from the night's adventure meant that for him he was essentially experiencing jet lag. It was still midnight to him, even though it was 5:45 am in the real world. He decided to just get a brief overview of the books from the Chamber and sat in the alcove by his bed in Gryffindor Tower, reading by the light of the sunrise, waiting for the Great Hall to open so he could get something to eat.

He couldn't help but feel incredibly nervous about the fact that he would have to stand in front of the Minister of Magic in mere weeks and declare that he was essentially higher in station than every other person in the wizarding world. How on earth was he supposed to know what to say? How would they take it?

Those nerves were compounded even further as he sat alone at the breakfast table at eight am, having told a still snoozing Ron that he was up early and was going down to the Great Hall without him. As he filled his plate with bacon and eggs, the Daily Prophet was dropped by an owl right in front of him and what was initially his usual, casual glance quickly became a double take as he read the headline: "Potter, Liar or Lunatic?"

Knuckles white, the edge of the paper scrunching in fury, Harry's sleepiness completely disappeared as he read how the Ministry was branding him a liar. He looked at the smiling face of Cornelius Fudge and experienced both fury at how they'd treated him and despair for how this might affect those he loved.

How could he be expected to deal with Voldemort if he couldn't count on the Aurors to be out looking for Death Eaters? How could they think he was lying? Did they think he was a murderer? What possible motive could he have for lying about the return of the monster that had killed his parents?

Seething, he clenched his fists tighter, but a twinge of pain in his right arm shot through him, from the still-healing wound from Pettigrew's cursed blade. If he were honest, the pain was a welcome distraction but he released his grip nonetheless He hadn't needed the pain's reminder to visit Madame Pomfrey today to get his potions for the holiday, but if he didn't fear the dumpy little witch's wrath, he might've.

Still, they were going home tomorrow and he had a lot of thinking and quite a bit of packing to do. Classes were over, and when the night's activities finally caught up with him, he was sure he was going to crash. He needed to go soon as well, he really couldn't be bothered with all the funny looks and glares this article would bring when more students started filtering in. He'd already had a strange look from a lone Ravenclaw girl sitting not too far away.

He hadn't brought anything down with him from Gryffindor Tower so was able to leave immediately. It was lucky the hospital wing was only five minutes from the Great Hall because Harry was yawning so hard it was making his eyes water when he saw the doors of the infirmary that he'd spent many painful nights in over his years at Hogwarts. Pomfrey was kind and professional enough, but he'd rather spend as little time with her as possible. She seemed to think he was a walking liability.

As Harry entered, he saw the aforementioned matron exit from behind a curtain where a patient must've been situated and dash quickly across the room, not even noticing him, looking rather stressed and muttering to herself.

"Need more alihotsy root, maybe with the flux-weed. We're lucky it's been a full moon, but what if I?" She muttered under her breath as she walked.

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said as she started opening a jar on one of her shelves that filled a back wall.

"Your potions are on the third shelf of the unit next to me and are labelled Mister Potter, you know how much to take at a time by now. I can't do a proper exam, I'm too busy," she said, dropping a handful of flaking roots from her hand into a small stone mortar, before vigorously going to town on it with a pestle. Ah, she had noticed him then. Harry simply nodded and went to where she'd indicated, more than happy to get out of her hair. He gathered the three potions and pocketed them, looking up to say thank you when he noticed Pomfrey's cloak swish into her backroom.

Deciding to just leave, she was clearly too busy even for a goodbye, Harry began to make his own way towards the door when he was interrupted by a loud low shaking and an uncertain girl's voice half-speak, half-shout: "Uhhhhh?" Turning towards the sound so fast it almost gave him whiplash, Harry saw that it was coming from behind the curtain Pomfrey had previously emerged from.

He barely had the chance to register the sound growing louder when a girl's voice behind the curtain screamed, "HELP! IT'S HAPPENING!"

Harry froze. The curtain was there for privacy, but he couldn't ignore it, could he? What was happening? If he went in there would Pomfrey be mad? Should he go and help? What could he even do anyway? He found, though, that his questions didn't matter when Pomfrey came running out of the room moments later and commanded.

"Potter, with me."

Without hesitation, he followed behind the rushing matron behind the curtain and in no way understood what he saw. Daphne, still in last night's clothes, flustered and panicking, was trying in vain to get to her sister, to grab at her and keep her still, but she couldn't. Somehow, every time she managed to get her hands on her, she was magically repelled away with such force that she was nearly thrown flat on her back. Astoria was completely unconscious, shaking, jerking, and thrashing her limbs madly. While she was completely unaware at all of what was going on, from her open mouth came a horrid bubbling sound like air being forced through a straw at the end of a drink. However, the most terrifying part of the ordeal was the amount her head was jerking backwards and forwards, even with a cushioning charm, the force her head was hitting the headboard was causing an audible thud.

"H…Harry?" Daphne sputtered, eyes streaming with tears, "What are?-"

"Potter, how long can you hold an Incarcerous for, Dumbledore says you're strong." Madam Pomfrey interrupted.

What a question, Harry thought. How was he supposed to know?!

"I dunno, never tried," he replied.

"Your Patronus is corporeal, and you maintained that?"

"For ten minutes." He confirmed.

"She's having a type of magical seizure, only conjured items can touch her. I have to finish this potion, it's the only way to stop it, I think I only need two or three minutes but I need at least 5 ropes, and you need to keep that head still. I could maybe cast that many at once, but I can't make this lunar-bloomed fluxweed draught at the same time. If you can't hold her until I get back it won't matter if we stop the seizure, she'll kill herself from her brain smashing in her skull. Do you understand?"

Without thinking Harry concentrated on the feeling inside him he'd honed over the last year, felt the tingling reach his fingertips as he concentrated on his core and filled himself up as much as he could. With a sudden sharp brandish of his wand, he cast Incarcerous, and nine thick ropes bound Astoria to her bed, 2 for each limb, and one across her forehead.

Daphne took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself as Harry looked back at the Matron.

"Good enough?" Harry asked.

"As strong as Dumbledore," she nodded with respect. "But can you maintain it?"

He could certainly feel the strain, he'd thought he'd be absolutely fine, once it was cast, but some sort of magic, no. some sort of being, whatever it was, was draining him, it was eating his magic. He gritted his teeth. He looked up at Daphne who was staring at him, fearfully, pleadingly, mascara accompanying the tears as they fell down her picturesque face.

He looked straight into her eyes, he wouldn't fail her. He had no family, he wouldn't rob her of hers. Almost growling, he said, "This thing can try and stop me."

Madam Pomfrey took not a second and ran from the bedside, but instantly Harry had to take a deep breath as another draining wave hit him. It was the definition of feeling weakened, but he wouldn't dare show weakness. He had decided just the other day, at the lake with Neville, that he would never be weak again. He ignored his dizziness and gave this…thing what it wanted even as he felt it drain his magical reserves.

"Harry," said Daphne, finding her voice now, running her hands through her lovely hair, "Oh Merlin, Come on Harry, please. You've got this. You've gotta keep this up."

Harry could barely speak, such was the drain on him, but she was right, he did have this.

Another minute, and he was panting and feeling very lightheaded but Harry was still resolute, he wasn't going anywhere. Astoria was still thrashing violently but she was showing no signs of stopping. He took a big deep breath and looked back at Daphne who was still shouting at him with almost begging words of encouragement and he took every word she said and used it. She was his strength right now.

At nearly four minutes, he was starting to feel like he couldn't breathe, and Daphne watched the colour drain from his face. Where the f*ck was Pomfrey?

"Harry?" Daphne shouted in alarm, "Harry come on?" Harry, what do you need?"

But he could barely now make out what she was saying. All sound had gone away now and his eyes were beginning to darken. The strength of Daphne's gaze was fading away as his vision did. It was quickly becoming just Harry and this… Demon… whatever it was.

He was so completely out of it that he barely registered when Daphne rounded the bed, but when she shook him hard and slapped him round the face, he was suddenly back in the room again and looked wildly at her. Daphne was instantly taken aback when she saw his eyes glowing bright green

"Get me a chair," He breathed, and not a moment later Daphne had a chair pulled around behind him and he collapsed onto it, still somehow holding onto the spell for dear life.

"I've got it here, Mister Potter." Harry heard Madame Pomfrey call to him as she ran back with a vial of potion in a room, "Just thirty more seconds for it to take effect. I know you're tired."

"I can't…" he breathed "…I can't do it."

"You can Harry, please," Daphne begged.

Pomfrey looked at him, and the next day, in hindsight, Harry was very impressed at the way Pomfrey knew exactly what she had to say.

"Mister Potter, if you can't even beat this if you're going to lose to this, how on earth are you going to beat Lord Voldemort?"

Growling at the insult that she would even dare to think that he would be beaten by this he dug deeper into his magic than ever before. A new lease of power and a new grip on magic brought him now back to full strength, in fact, he had never felt stronger. Glaring at Pomfrey with electric green eyes as his hair stood on end and the window panes shook from the sheer power he was giving off he held his Incarcerous in place til the moment Astoria stopped shaking.

"Maybe not that much power, Mister Potter," Pomfrey said with a little laugh as he released the spell.

"f*ck you," He replied, and as his body recognised his part was done, and passed out on the spot.

Chapter 4: Promises and Plans

Chapter Text

A/N. Hi all, hope you're enjoying the story. I received a review from someone who said they didn't quite like the way I'd changed the way protego and incarcerous worked, so I just wanted to elaborate. Sure, with the protego, I'd taken a bit of liberty to change it a little for the story, though I need to remind you that this is fanfiction and that the way spells work is often changed. How often have we read about solid Patronuses that can destroy Dementors? It also felt like the original depictions in canon didn't make complete sense to me, a shield charm sometimes having been written to be able to knock someone off their feet, when it's literally a shield. Not only that but in Hogwarts Legacy, a game which JK signed off on, the coloured bubbles around enemies were often incanted with protego, and that's a completely different depiction from the books as well. Remember, there are often changes between canon and fanfiction, hence the term, “head canon.”

With incarcerous, I edited a few lines to make it clearer. I wanted to get it across that Harry had to channel it constantly as the magic of the Greengrass curse, which syphoned magic, would have made the conjured ropes disappear if magic were not consistently fed into the spell. Hope that clears everything up.

Now, on with the show! Please R&R.

Chapter 4 - Promises and Plans

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” was Harry’s first thought as the regrettably familiar ceiling of the hospital wing swam into view. Of course, this was accompanied by a big sigh.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, my boy. I think that’s the first time the need for you being here was caused by something you did when you were in this very room, well done.”

Harry pushed himself up on the hospital mattress to look at Albus Dumbledore, sitting at his bedside. Curtains were wrapped around his bed area, and Dumbledore's almost ridiculous orange robes were in stark contrast to the pale sky blue of the curtain fabric.

“Guess you heard what happened then,” said Harry.

The aged headmaster nodded his head and smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You did a very brave thing today. I don’t think there is anyone else in the castle apart from me that could’ve done it,” he said.

Harry frowned in confusion.

“Really? Surely if Madam Pomfrey didn’t have to create the potion, couldn't she…?”

“I’m afraid not. It was a miscalculation on her part, and we were very lucky that you arrived to pick up your potions when you did. The ailment that the youngest Greengrass suffers from isn't for me to discuss with you, it’s only her business and that of her family, but it was something far more insidious today than we had anticipated.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I have to be off in a moment, I just wanted to check in on you, and ask about that necklace. Madame Pomfrey tried to take it off your neck and I’m afraid she found herself with a rather nasty burn. I want to give you the benefit of the doubt after what's happened. Please tell me you haven't been dabbling in Dark artefacts, Harry.”

Harry reached up and noticed that while he was dressed in the standard Hogwarts hospital gown. The silver snake pendant and chain weree still hanging around his neck. He gulped. Should he tell the truth? Surely it would be okay to tell Dumbledore, right? How else would he explain it away?

“No one else can hear us within this bay can they sir?”

“No, my boy. I cast the privacy ward around your bedside myself.”

Harry exhaled steadily and tried to weigh his words. “It’s… it’s the Lord’s necklace of the House of Slytherin, sir.”

If there was one thing Albus was expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that. In fact, he just stared at Harry for a second, and it took him a good ten seconds before he said anything else.

“And where did you get it?” Dumbledore said, calmly. He didn’t sound angry, but Harry felt strangely nervous not having a clue what the elderly headmaster was thinking. Would he get in trouble?

“Well, sir, I’ll be honest…” Harry said, “After…the graveyard, I was feeling utterly beaten, and weak…and…well…I was talking with Neville and he seems to think that I’m the one that’s destined to beat Voldemort. I’ve faced him so many times, and with what happened when my parents died…”

He trailed off and with a sad smile.

Dumbledore’s eyes shone a little more than usual.

“Go on,” he said.

“Well I’d been thinking about ways that he may have become powerful because surely I’ll have to be powerful to beat him and that led me to think maybe he’d found something in the Chamber of Secrets, so I went back down there. It turned out he hadn’t found anything apart from the Basilisk, which turned out to actually be a guard to defend his family library and Voldemort had never been able to access it. It was placed into the Chamber to protect Slytherin's secrets while his family line was dormant as until the House of Slytherin's line was active again the full strength of the library's wards wouldn't be activated. When I went down there I met the portrait of Slytherin, who named me the new Lord and gave me access to his family magics and he’s going to help me beat Lord Voldemort. He hates him for apparently corrupting the basilisk and turning it against the school!”

“Holy Merlin,” Dumbledore said, eyes wide. “Harry, dark magics aren’t to be dabbled with, my boy, Salazar Slytherin -”

“Has been completely misunderstood by history, sir. We discussed it. He wasn’t dark, he didn’t hate muggleborns. He just wanted to take muggleborns away from their families because of the witch hunts that were happening at the time. Lots of them were dying so he wanted to keep them safe.”

“This…this is unbelievable my boy. And you're absolutely sure it’s safe? Dark powers can twist the mind and make one believe the most reprehensible of magics are much less…evil than they are.” Dumbledore said, leaning forward and looking deep into Harry’s eyes.

“Of course, sir, if you conjure a flask I can provide you with the memory. I promise you I will not access the Chamber again unless you agree.”

This seemed to satisfy the old wizard and he once again leaned backwards in his chair.

“That’s a very generous offer, Harry,” Dumbledore replied, and with a short wave of his wand, he transfigured a water goblet on Harry’s bedside into a small crystal vial. After a few moments of instruction on how to extract a memory, the vial now filled with the ethereal silver essence of Harry's memory was tucked into Dumbledore's pocket.

“And you are sure there is nothing I should be worried about? Did he provide you with anything else I should be checking over?”

“He provided me with two books, one was about parseltongue and its origins in healing magic, sir, and the other on the laws and procedures of the Wizengamot.”

“I see. I think we will have to revisit this at a later date, Harry. You realise what this means for the Wizengamot, and how you will now need to present yourself before them at the next full gathering.”

“I’m beginning to. I’m going to have a talk with Neville later, see if he’s willing to correspond with me a bit more over the summer.”

“A good idea. I will have a word with Augusta Longbottom. Perhaps we can discuss the idea of you spending some time at Longbottom Manor during the summer, though I’m afraid you will need to revisit the Dursleys. The protection it provides you is invaluable.”

“I understand, Professor…and would be nice, thank you,” Harry replied.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said before getting to his feet “Right, my boy, I must go and speak to Professor Snape, Miss Greengrass’ parents will be arriving soon. I believe Astoria wanted to speak to you, bear with me a moment.”

He got up and poked his head through the curtains to Astoria's bedside.

“Harry's ready for you to speak to him now if you are ready?” Harry heard Dumbledore ask?

“Certainly, Professor,” Harry heard an exhausted, posh-sounding voice say. “Can you extend the privacy ward around both of our beds?”

“Of course.”

“Can I get dressed, first sir?” Asked Harry, “I'm feeling much better.”

“Certainly.”

Dumbledore stepped outside the curtains for a moment while Harry changed out his gown back into the clothes he'd been wearing. After a quick call to Dumbledore that he was ready, the headmaster reentered, and with a swish of his wand the curtain between Harry and Astoria's beds disappeared, leaving only the curtain around the perimeter of both their beds. A quick farewell to both of them and Harry was left alone with the third-year Slytherin. She looked a bit like her sister, Harry thought. Her same honey-coloured hair was quite lank and sweat-ridden, but she had brown eyes and a slightly upturned nose. While clearly very tired, it was good to see that she seemed to be recovering as she picked up a grape from a small tray on her lap and popped it into her mouth.

The pair sat in silence for a moment before either of them spoke.

“I suppose I should say thank you,” said Astoria, looking at him evenly. “I'd come and give you a hug but I'm too tired and I think my mother would say it was inappropriate.”

“Don't worry about it,” Harry replied, “Just glad I was here to help.”

“Me too” she replied, though not looking like she meant it. Harry frowned.

“I don't mean to pry but…that thing... What happened to you? That seemed a bit unusual for someone casting a nasty jinx at you between classes or…”

“No nothing like that,” she interrupted, “It’s a family matter.”

“Okay I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I just wanted to see if there is anything else I can do to help.”

Harry remembered distinctly from Neville’s book that Greengrass was one of The Most Ancient and Noble houses, and even that family magics were held in utmost secrecy, and very rarely discussed between families.

“No, it's okay, you can't. No one can.” Astoria replied.

They were quiet for the moment.

“Is Daphne okay?”

“No, she’s very worried,” Astoria said, tears beginning to well up chocolate eyes. “She blames herself for not being able to help me.”

“But she’s doing her best isn't she?” Harry said, trying to smile encouragingly “She was out last night picking the fluxweed for you.”

“Yes. She tries her best, but she's got it in her head that she's going to cure me. It's…I can't bear to watch her, watch anyone go through it anymore.”

“I see.”

Astoria was crying in earnest now, which left Harry decidedly unsure of what to do with himself.

“Don't cry, you're okay now.” Harry

“But I'm not okay, am I? Now I've got to go through another six months not knowing if they will be my last. Six months of my family worrying, of Daphne killing herself trying to fix me, even though twelve generations have tried and failed to remove the curse. I wish…” Astoria said, pausing as her breathing and sobs got heavier and heavier, “I wish you hadn't been here and I'd just died.”

“Don't say that!” said Harry, earnestly.

“It's true, if I was gone they wouldn't have to worry. They could get over me, and…and I wouldn't have to see Draco all the time and know that we can never be together.”

Astoria descended into sobs again and Harry, deliberately choosing to ignore Astoria’s choice of romantic partner, did the only thing he could think of. He got out of the chair at her bedside, sat next to her on her bed and rather awkwardly wrapped an arm around her. Instantly she fell into his arms and cried into his shoulder. And cried. And cried. After ten minutes she was all cried out and timidly her red eyes met his and she gave him a weak smile.

“I'm okay now…thanks.” pulling away slightly from the embrace.

“You aren't, but I get why you're feeling that way. I hate it when people worry about me and well you, you've got it worse than anyone I know. If you ever need to talk about it, to someone who isn't involved, come find me. I mean it.”

“Th…thanks,” she replied, hugging him a bit tighter. “You know, you aren't how Draco says you are.”

“Draco only sees what he wants to see. I only wish I could do something to help.” Harry said. It was true. Even though Harry didn't know the girl he really felt for her and he couldn't shake the look in Daphne's sapphire eyes that haunted him, as she begged him to keep going.

“You can’t. It's a bloodline curse. Exactly 77 days before the solstice, it comes. Magical convulsions, something called eclampsia they said. A spirit or something makes poison build up in my body until either the seizures kill me or an antidote is administered, but the poison builds up faster and faster every time. There hasn't been a Greengrass who's had it who lived past being 17.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, chewing his lip.

“Don't be. It's nothing to do with you. I shouldn't even be telling you about it. Even if you did save my life.”

With that, her eyes went wide in recognition.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“My family, we owe you a life debt,” she said, quietly.

“A what?”

“A life debt, enforced by magic. You saved my life, my family owes you anything you desire. Unless we save yours.”

“Don't be silly, I don't want anything.”

“But you have to want something, magic won't be satisfied until you request something equal to the life of a child of the family, you…you are entitled to Daphne’s hand in marriage. sh*t, my Dad's not gonna be happy.”

“I don’t want that, and I think you're Dad would prefer to have his daughter alive.”

“But you will have to ask for something before I’m gone, or my family will be cursed with bad luck for seven generations! Please, Harry, Daphne will understand, or you could ask for my dowry's worth of gold from our vault?”

“I don't need your money and as beautiful and kind-hearted as she seems, I'm sure Daphne will want to marry for love. I’ve heard how many boys want her hand, and I’m well…me. She doesn't need that attention and marrying me will only put her in danger. You know Voldemort has returned.”

Astoria flinched but didn't complain, and said “Then what do you suggest, unless you want to forgo the debt completely and swear it on your magic but you'd have to be mad. You’d be saying no to an insane amount of gold or having your house being linked to a house of my standing.”

“And how do I do that? Forgo the debt?”

Astoria stared at him now in utter incomprehension.

“Are…are you sure?”

“How?” Harry asked firmly.

“I'll…I'll have to write it down. I need parchment and a quill. Hold on a sec.”

Shakily, she reached to her bedside table and pulled out the required items. After a moment of scribbling before sliding over the parchment, she said “So you read this, holding your wand, and at the end say, “so mote it be.””

Harry took the parchment and went back to his bed, where he saw his wand laid on his own bedside cabinet.

“I'm going to do this, Miss Greengrass, but I need your word that you will not tell a soul about what you hear to anyone outside your family until it is public knowledge. Especially not Draco. Can I trust you?”

“Harry if you're going to do this you could tell me you're Merlin and I wouldn't tell anyone. Plus, my parents will be picking us up in an hour from here and portkeying us straight home.”

“Okay.” Harry nodded, before holding his wand in the air and intending “I, Lord Harry James Slytherin-Potter, hereby consider all current life debts between myself and the house of Greengrass fully satisfied, so mote it be.”

A small flash from his wand signified the vow’s acceptance.

Astoria just stared at him.

“How…you… what?” she spluttered.

“Miss Greengrass, you need to keep it a secret until the next Wizengamot session. You promised. If you must tell your father, tell him I would be more inclined to help him with votes in the future should he keep the secret.” Harry said, with a warning look.

“Yes, my Lord. I won’t tell anyone,” she replied, eyes still half-glazed.

“Good. Now do you know where Pomfrey is?”

“She went to see Dumbledore and said to call her via our House Elf if she was needed.”

Harry smiled “Great, I'm feeling better so I'm gonna shoot off, tell Daphne I said hi and tell her if she needs help with any more defence over the summer, just to owl me.”

Astoria scrunched her eyes in confusion for a moment at Harry apparently having had contact with Daphne before, but smiled and nodded before saying “Oh okay, see you later. And thanks again Potter, er, my Lord, er.”

“Just Harry, Miss Greengrass.’

“And it's Astoria, then.”

Both smiled at each other.

“Bye Harry.”

“Bye Astoria.”

“So, you're telling me that we owed him a complete life debt for you, and he just vowed it away as if it was nothing?” Cyrus Greengrass asked in shock, “He didn't want anything in return?”

The four members of the Greengrass household were in their Manor, three days after their return from Hogwarts for the summer, taking tea and biscuits in their drawing room. Daphne’s mother Ellanore had forbidden anyone to talk of what had happened until Astoria was feeling better, but this morning she had announced she had recovered enough and so an impromptu family meeting was called.

“Nothing at all, I even told him he could have Daphne's hand in marriage but he just said she's beautiful and kindhearted and should be able to marry for love.”

“This is…unheard of. And you're sure he said he was Lord Slytherin…and that he wasn't lying.”

“He made a vow and everything. The magic worked, I saw it.”

“This will change everything Cyrus,” Ellanore said under her breath, “Dumbledore's man, Lord of Slytherin, it will upset the balance.”

“I wouldn't be so sure, Father.” said Daphne, taking a sip of tea and swallowing before continuing, “He told Tracey and me he wasn't on the best terms with Dumbledore.”

“Did he now?” Cyrus said, stroking his pointed beard in thought, “And when was this?”

“The other day, he offered to help us in the library with our Defence projects and taught us the theory behind protego. He said he wasn't happy with the way Dumbledore didn't protect him this year, and all but confirmed the Dark Lord's return. He taught us stuff that was more cohesive than what was in our books actually. He was also the one that cast it against Dumbledore in the class demonstration, it was twice the size of him.”

“Hmmph, showing off I presume,” Cyrus replied with a sneer.

“Barely, he didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat. I don't think he really understands how far above just powerful he is. You should've seen him against the curse father. His eyes were…glowing…and he nearly shattered the windows.”

“You're smiling when talking about him, Daphne, you haven't done that since your Christmas break in first year about that Zabini boy.” Ellanore nodded towards her.

Daphne held her head tall on her slender neck. “He was in his rights to entrap me and he didn't. I'm just grateful.”

“And the fact that he's stupidly handsome and as powerful as Dumbledore has nothing to do with it?” Astoria teased.

“No.” responded the beautiful blonde ardently, but the blush that bloomed on her cheeks betrayed her.

“So you do think he's handsome then?” Astoria jibed.

“Regardless of Daphne’s feelings towards the boy,” Cyrus interjected before Daphne could respond past her deepening blush, “That level of power you’re saying he displayed hasn’t been seen since Dumbledore was at school. If he isn’t Dumbledore’s man through and through, it might be beneficial to have him on our side. The Death Eaters will come knocking, and I don't know how long we will be able to put off picking a side this time.”

“We’d have to be careful, Cyrus,” Ellanore said, “You-know-who will be watching, and with what the Ministry is spouting, associating with him will be working against their official position of painting him as a liar.”

“I agree. At least for now, we'll need to remain neutral. But if he can be turned towards our side…they say Dumbledore was more Grey than Light when he fought Grindelwald. And you say he's as powerful as Dumbledore now, Daphne?”

“Pomfrey said his incarcerous was just as strong, and I know he can cast a corporeal Patronus.”

“And he will soon be officially recognised as Lord Slytherin,” Cyrus said, making another brief pause to weigh his thoughts before continuing.

“We need to keep his secret. It wouldn't alienate him before his official recognition at the Ministry. And we need to try and pull him towards the Grey, or at least find out what his political bent is…”

“A party,” Ellanore suggested, “Here. For the end of summer and an early birthday party for Daphne. He’ll be officially Lord Slytherin by then, and we invite the children in Daphne's year from prominent noble families. If the Malfoys come, that will please the Darker families and the Dark Lord won't be able to suggest we've moved towards the light, just that we are accommodating a Lord of the Great Seven.”

Cyrus beamed, “My dear I could kiss you.”

Ellanore rolled her sapphire eyes, “Wait until the children are gone, dear.”

“You mean I get to see Draco?” Astoria asked excitedly, eyes wide, “Can it be a pool party?”

“So he can see you in your new bikini?” Daphne asked. It was her turn to be the tease now.

“Well it's not like I'll be able to go any further with him, but yeah.”

“I'm not sure whether it is proper, Astoria,” Cyrus said.

“Well put it this way, Father, if I could foresee a marriage to a member of the Great Seven, it may help to…turn him around to our cause.”

“I knew it! You like him! You like him!” Astoria said with a giggle, now up and dancing around the chair.

“I don't really know him, but he is kind and strong and if he has access to Slytherin's magic he could feasibly beat the Dark Lord.”

There was silence, bar the chinks of cups hitting saucers.

“You know,” Cyrus said, “I think you have a point. Ellanore darling, can you make the invitations?”

“I'll go to Scrivenshafts for the good stationery tomorrow, my love.”

Astoria's relentless singsong of “Draco's coming to visit, Draco's coming to visit” was unbelievably annoying for the next three days, until her mother hit her with a langlock jinx.

It was unseasonably cold and foggy on the estate surrounding number four, Privet Drive, especially for mid-July. Harry zipped his tatty grey hoodie all the way up to the top to keep out the cold. This summer, preferring to keep out of the way and study his books in his room, Harry had tried to keep well out of the Dursleys' way, though that hadn’t stopped them pestering him to do errands and chores and to “earn his keep” ever since he’d gotten back from Hogwarts.

It was because of this, that he was currently walking steadily back from the local Tesco's, a cold four-pint bottle of semi-skimmed milk in his hand, chilling his fingers. He turned down an alleyway, only two more turns until he was back on the street which he begrudgingly called “home”. Sure, it was now twilight, and the sun had nearly completely set, but it had no business being this cold, and yet, Harry pondered, wait…how was the milk getting colder? Harry simultaneously watched the milk completely freeze inside its bottle and felt the now unfortunately familiar hopelessness overcome him that only came with one thing. Dementors. Of course, Harry had his wand with him and even though the two black-cloaked abominations came at him from both ends of the alley, he sent the two Dementors packing with no stress whatsoever.

“Hmph, you’ll have to try harder than that, Tom,” he said aloud as he continued his journey down the alley towards Privet Drive.

The next few hours Harry could describe as nothing short of chaos. Mrs Figg revealing she was in cahoots with Dumbledore and the veritable parliament of owls showing up to expel him from Hogwarts from Arthur Weasley telling him not to surrender his wand was nothing compared to the unmitigated rabble that turned up to transport him to the home of his Godfather at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. How they’d managed to convince Dumbledore that flying brooms through London wasn’t a ridiculous risk to the Statute of Secrecy Harry would never know, but he was obviously glad to be well away from Little Whinging.

Grimmauld Place, while obviously dark and dingy, just didn’t feel that way when he saw all his friends there to greet them, as fuming as he was for the lack of communication over the summer. He took great care to make them feel as if Dumbledore's deliberate isolation of him was total and that he'd been completely shut off from the magical world just in case he asked, but in reality, for much of the summer, he was the opposite of that. He'd been utilising his portkey function of his Lord's pendant egregiously and when the Dursleys were bound to not ask anything of him, had been spending most of his time in the Chamber of Secrets with the Portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

He'd been wise, the portrait had said, to leave his wand at the Dursleys’ as if Dumbledore was tracking his movements, his wand would be easy to add a tracking charm to, as Harry would usually always have it on his person. It had meant though, that while Slytherin hadn't been able to help with his practical casting, he’d been able to train him for his first appearance at the Wizengamot which was due to be held at the next full official gathering, on the summer solstice.

Harry had developed a good working relationship with the portrait of the ancient wizard, who at first believed Harry to be nothing but a powerful but otherwise naive boy, but after they discussed Harry's past, Salazar began showing respect towards him. He told Harry that he believed these experiences proved he was right to give him the Lordship even though he said he was absolutely off his rocker for turning down the guaranteed hand in marriage of a boy that Harry had told him was the most attractive witch he'd ever seen.

So, after all the pleasantries had been exchanged with Harry finally becoming reunited with Sirius and the Weasleys and after it had been decided by the Order of the Phoenix that he wouldn't be part of the meeting, rather than listening through the extendable ears to what was expected from his looming Wizengamot hearing, Harry cornered Sirius at the bottom of the stairs and spoke to him in hushed tones.

“Sirius, I need you to cover for me,” he said.

The shaggy but roguish wizard gave a suspicious squint at this and asked. “What for, Pup?”

“I can't tell you everything, but… I've been training with someone…to help me with family magic stuff. I've got a secure portkey to a place Dumbledore knows about it, and it's safe for me to meet with them anytime.”

“That's a big ask, Harry,” Sirius asked, “Are you sure it's safe?”

“Hundred percent, trust me. I need to see them before this hearing tomorrow. I've got an idea to prank the Wizengamot, Marauder worthy, completely legal. Been working on it for a while with him but with this happening I think I can blow the whole thing up in their faces and maybe even get you a trial.”

Sirius exhaled loudly, before just staring at him. Harry didn't dare look away as Sirius sized him up, they'd barely seen each other since 3rd year, except in the Floo, after all.

“Promise me, that if your father were here and he knew everything… Would he let you do this?”

Harry chuckled, “Mum, from what I've heard, maybe not, but Dad, from what you've told me of him, hell yeah.”

An easy smile spread upon Sirius’ face and Harry thought he instantly appeared younger.

“Okay, Harry,” he said “I'm gonna have you room with me instead of Ron, for now. I'll tell them I wanted to spend some time with you, catch up. No one can begrudge me that, and it's my house anyway. Tonight you're going to our room to be alone for an early night because you feel overwhelmed. Don't be back too late. You've got a big day tomorrow.”

Harry smiled on his way up to Sirius’ room, grateful for his support. With any luck, the Ministry wouldn't know what hit them.

Chapter 5: The Trial

Chapter Text

A long, barely lit, corridor.

Glossy, off-black bricks.

Uncertainty.

Whispers. A voice.

“Harryyyyy…Harryyyy…”

Walking now, no, floating down the corridor. A door, as dark as the brick, a gleaming golden doorknob.

It begins to open, a white light begins pouring through from the other side, illuminating the passageway.

Getting closer, closer, light, almost blinding, about to pass through.

“Harryyyy…”

Harry woke up with a start, sitting straight up in his bed and fumbling around for his glasses.

“Damnit, where’d I put them?” he thought, “Wait, I'm not at the Dursleys!”

Fumbling through the blur to the other side of him he located his spectacles and put them on.

The first thing he saw was Sirius, illuminated by dawn's early light beaming through the window. He was sprawled out on his double bed, both drooling and snoring rather loudly. Harry was surprised he’d managed any sleep at all. Sirius’ room, still heavily Gryffindor-themed to spite his parents, felt warm and welcoming and made Harry smile. He definitely didn't dislike the scantily clad posters of naked women stuck up haphazardly around the room as well. He’d been noticing girls more and more that way recently. It was getting to the point where he was almost thinking thoughts about every female he’d been getting into contact with. He’d been disgusted with himself when he’d found himself marvelling about how soft and pillowy Mrs Weasley’s breasts were when she’d pulled him in last night for her usual, bone-crushing hug.

Shaking the uncomfortable thought away he stretched and began thinking about the day. Lord Slytherin had almost been incorrigible with his glee for the opportunity to cook up a good scheme. He'd asked Harry some questions and then asked him to be quiet for half an hour. Then, for three hours, they discussed the plan.

He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, changed into his robes for the day, and then came back in from the ensuite to find Sirius in the same position, flat out. Harry swallowed a lump in his throat when thinking about the care his Godfather had shown - he hadn't gone to sleep until Harry had gotten home from the Chamber. Harry had never experienced care from a relative like that before.

Still, he needed his Godfather now so after such complaining and groaning later,(though it only took a few minutes really) Sirius woke up.

“What is it, Harry?” he said with a groggy glare.

“Sirius, is your vault still open?” Harry asked.

A puzzled look.

“Well yeah, why wouldn't it be, where'd you think I got the gold for the Firebolt, I ain't no thief, Kreacher got it for me.”

“I need you to call for him, get him to withdraw a galleon, and ask for the receipt.”

Sirius sat up now and gave a confused look. Blinking exaggeratedly to try and wake up a bit more he asked: “Why?”

“Ugh, you'll find out later, do it for me,” Harry replied. He didn't want to get into the whole thing right now.

“Aww I could never say no to you my little puppy-poo,” Sirius said, snickering as he pinched Harry’s cheeks.

Harry was not impressed, and his expression said as such.

“Fine,” Sirius said with a whine and then called for Kreacher to do what his Godson had asked.

After a hearty breakfast with Hermione going on about the reasons they couldn’t expel him and with Tonks trying to distract him with a grand display of the different animal noses the Metamorphmagus could give herself, Harry got up and followed Mr Weasley into the hall. With his “good luck” hug from his Godfather, Harry felt the galleon and the document slip into the pocket of his robes.

“Knock 'em dead,” he said in a low tone.

If Harry's stomach weren't tied up in knots, he probably would've found the journey with Mr Weasley from Order Headquarters to Courtroom Ten at the Ministry of Magic exciting. Even though he was now just about to enter his fifth year in the Wizarding World he still found utterly wonderful ways that a myriad of spells and enchantments were woven into the places that witches and wizards had touched.

He loved magic, but today he was too distracted. He could feel the nerves building up in the pit of his stomach. He needed to focus. Salazar had made him recite what he needed to say today over and over last night and gave him a multitude of pointers and things to say depending on how the hearing progressed.

Arthur Weasley dismissed his charge's stony expression and lack of talking as just nervousness as he led Harry through the muggle underground. He couldn’t blame the boy, but still, how could he not find the eckeltrictical barriers fascinating!? How did muggles even come up with these things? Harry even tapped his foot impatiently when Arthur felt the need to walk in and out of those self-manoeuvring doors that'd started popping up on various buildings around the city. What did they call them again? Watermatic? But Arthur couldn't see any water anywhere! How did they do it? He'd always wondered where the water in their taps came from, maybe they used something similar?

Arthur sighed dreamily as they descended into the Ministry. Harry didn't even find the sinking telephone booth fun, and Arthur had even been part of the team that installed the new visitor entrance himself! The muggles really did have mastery over the elements, controlling lightning and water, didn’t they?

The eldest Weasley was glad they’d set off early from Headquarters because they'd almost had to run down to the courtroom when it became clear that Fudge had changed the time and location of the hearing. Thankfully their early departure meant they'd only ended up five minutes late by the time Arthur wished Harry luck and sent him in, hoping he wasn't sending the boy to his doom.

Harry tried not to let how pleased he was that the entire Wizengamot had been assembled show on his face as he was led by a duo of Aurors into the middle of the large courtroom. As unusual as it was that the Ministry had called so many people for a simple hearing for what they assumed was an underage magic breach, it was something Harry and Salazar had both expected based on Fudge’s recent behaviour. If there were less than a full Wizengamot, the hearing would’ve been just that, a hearing and not a full session. A full court meant a trial, and that was categorised as a full Wizengamot session. This was instrumental to their plans. Only after Harry had felt pleased at this fact did he nearly gasp as he realised that the almost-dungeon that he found himself in was the one that he’d seen just last year in Dumbledore’s Pensieve. It was the one where he’d seen Karkaroff give up the names that had ultimately saved him from Azkaban.

As he looked around he noticed the chamber had the same dark stone and sparse lighting and knew he mustn’t be far from the room he’d been seeing over and over again in his dreams for the last few weeks. It made him distinctly uncomfortable and trying to decrease the effect the realisation had had on his nerves, he exhaled steadily and ran his hands over the smart black robes that he’d borrowed from Sirius. Shoulders back, trying to ground himself in the moment he walked with his head held high to the small wooden chair in the middle of the chamber. Again he thought about what Slytherin had said to try and calm himself. With this many Lord and Ladies present, Fudge was clearly intent on making an example out of him today and with a little luck, it would backfire tremendously.

If Fudge was displeased by the fact that Harry had only turned up five minutes late, he didn’t show it. The Minister stood, cleared his throat, and announced clearly to the courtroom:

“Disciplinary hearing into offences committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Lady Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley -”

“Witness for the defence, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.” called a familiar voice that made Harry sigh with relief. While Harry hoped he might’ve been able to enact Salazar’s plans on his own he still had been a little unsure, no matter the encouragement he’d been given. Now he knew they would have much fewer problems. He would be able to play the part Salazar had asked of him much easier. The naive little boy.”

He smiled as the footsteps of the Headmaster drew closer to him before he saw the midnight blue robes move to his side. There was a small amount of tutting and muttering among the members of the Wizengamot.

“So, you got our message that the time and place of the meeting had changed, then?” said Fudge, irritably.

“Must’ve missed it,” said Dumbledore with a cheerful tone, “But, I got here early anyway, a lucky mistake I suppose.”

“Well, we’ll need another chair,” said Fudge with a sigh, “Weasley?”

“Not to worry, Minister,” Dumbledore answered and with a wave of his wand conjured a grand, cushioned armchair right next to Harry, who noticed it was much more opulent than the carved mahogany seats the rest of the Wizengamot were sitting on.

Just as Harry had been told, he raised his arm to show that he wanted to speak, just like he would if he was in a class in school.

“Yes, Mr Potter?” Minister Fudge said, “You do not need to raise your hand, as the defendant, stand when you wish to speak.”

Harry nodded and then got to his feet.

“Sorry everyone, I wanted to be respectful…I was just wondering…before we got properly started. Would it be bad if what Percy was writing into the records was wrong, if you didn’t use my correct title?” he said, innocently.

It was Amelia Bones who spoke here, a kind-faced brunette woman who looked with a raised brow at him. “Of course, you are Harry James Potter, aren’t you?”

“Not completely Madame Bones, I’ve been told I need to draw my wand to prove my full identity?” Harry replied, keeping up the schoolboy act.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” spouted Fudge, “We know who you are.”

“Then there would be no problem with me casting the standard verification vow to prove my identity would there?” Harry said in response.

“Apart from being a waste of our valuable time,” the Minister snapped back.

“You know that I belong to a house that has a seat in this Wizengamot, I read in my book that it’s customary for all defendants with family seats to do this at the beginning of a trial. Isn’t not doing that going against our traditions?”

A grumble came from the throng of witches and wizards seated around the courtroom and more than a few glares and tuts sent the Minister’s way. The high bench seemed to be conferring amongst themselves so Harry sat back down and fingered his wand in his pocket.

“Are you sure, Harry?” came the whispered voice of Dumbledore in his ear, “This is a big step.”

Harry leaned over and whispered back. “You have your plan, Professor. I have mine, let’s work together.”

“Very well.”

“If you’re done conferring with your counsel, as of now Unnamed Defendant we have agreed for you to identify yourself,” said Fudge tersely.

“Thank you, esteemed Minister,” said Harry brightly, standing back up once more. Removing his wand from his pocket, he held it up high towards the ceiling and remembering what Salazar must’ve made him repeat fifty times last night, spoke:

“As the laws and traditions of our land dictate, I stand before our high Wizengamot, the noblest court in Britain. Here today are all sitting Noble Houses assembled and as such I present my identity so I may include myself among the number. Nobles, witness my vow, for I, standing before you, am Harry James Slytherin-Potter, Lord of the House of Slytherin of the Great Seven and Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, so mote it be.”

The blinding flash of light as Harry’s vow was completed was accompanied by nothing more than a cacophony of jeers, shouting, screams, and whoops as the Wizengamot took in the news.

Cries of things like “But Potters are Gryffindors!, Rubbish!, Impossible!, Liar!” were all so intermingled that no one could hear what the others were saying.

Eventually, Madame Bones raised her wand and it went off like a firecracker, and after several cries of “Order! Order!” She eventually managed to get the throng to quieten down enough so that she could be heard above the din.

“Members! I need not remind you that if this were not real, the vow would not have been completed and Lord Slytherin-Potter would no longer be alive. We will have a short recess so that you can all calm down and so that the prosecution can make any changes to their case. We resume in twenty minutes. Dismissed.”

The bang of Madame Bones' gavel resumed the louder chatter of the Wizengamot members, though now the volume was much more bearable. Harry stood up quickly and after asking Dumbledore if there was somewhere they could talk, was led by the aged headmaster into a side room. The first thing Harry said as the dark wooden door to the small room closed behind him was:

“Listen, Professor. Here’s the plan.”

Twenty minutes later Harry definitely noticed a much more uncertain atmosphere on him this time than when he'd first walked into the courtroom, in fact, it was so quiet you could've heard a pin drop.

Once everyone was seated, Dumbledore stood up, turned to smile at the crowd, chuckled, and said. “So. Where were we?”

“Disciplinary hearing resumed into the case for Lord Harry Slytherin-Potter. Firstly, the prosecution has decreed that in the original Wizengamot charter, paragraph fourteen, no Lord who has not yet identified their connection with their family magics with the presentation of their identifying house heirloom may be prosecuted as such. As Lord Slytherin’s pendant hasn't been seen for over a thousand years, a silver snake with two socketed emerald eyes Mr Potter, well, I suppose you'll be the first Slytherin ever to be expelled from Hogwarts!”

Fudge finished his address with a chuckle. Harry noticed the plump, toad-faced witch to the right of him joined him. She was all dressed in pink and gave a fake, girlish laugh that made his hair stand on end.

“Oh, you mean this pendant?” Harry replied nonchalantly, before pulling the necklace from beneath the collar of the shirt.

“Oh, this is f*cking ridiculous.” was the first shout that came out before there was another roar of unbridled chaotic chatter.

“ORDER! ORDER!!” Came from Amelia Bones with several hard bangs of the gavel that made Harry’s ears ring. It worked, save for an unrelenting irate voice and so she stood from her seat, “Lord Bode, if I do not hear silence from you, then I shall…”

“No, the Dark Lord is the Lord of Slytherin!”

“The Dark Lord is DEAD, Lord Bode,” snapped Fudge, “You are fined the sum of five hundred galleons and we hold you in contempt of this court for the rest of the day, now I suggest you leave this chamber or you'll find yourself spending a cosy night in Azkaban!”

If the fine he was facing wasn't gonna shut him up, the threat of a night with the Dementors certainly did and the balding, pudgy-faced wizard grumbled and the court waited as he gathered himself and made his way out of the chamber. Harry didn’t notice the glare Lucius Malfoy gave Bode as he trudged his way past.

“So…er…Lord Slytherin-Potter,” started Fudge gritted, clearly rattled, “The Reasonable Restriction for Underage Sorcery states that...”

“Pardon me, Minister,” came a voice from the crowd.

“Yes, Lord Greengrass.”

Harry frowned and looked over to a man seated seven seats to the right of the Prosecution to see a sharp-faced man with high cheekbones and a long, curled blond moustache, and short, cropped hair. The blond colour was the same as Daphne’s… and they had the same nose, Harry noticed. This must be her father.

“Minister, I have it on good authority that Lord Slytherin-Potter first came into his Lordship in the eyes of magic before the attack, so the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Sorcery wouldn't apply here.”

“And how do you know that Lord Greengrass?” snapped Umbridge.

“That…Ms Umbridge is a family matter. The court knows that I trust my family and am not in the habit of unabashedly supporting the members of the light. However, the coming into one's House Magics being a date of coming of age is a rite as old as this Wizengamot itself.”

The Lord's statement was met with many “aye”s of agreement.

“Thank you, Cyrus,” replied Dumbledore with an incline of his head. “As you can see on your briefing documents, the attack occurred only yesterday and given that Lord Slytherin Potter should’ve received an official invitation from the Ministry for him to make his ascension to seat on the solstice, the Ministry must surely have not known that he was emancipated. Lord Slytherin-Potter and I also discussed it on the last day of term.”

“He still cast the Patronus charm in a muggle area, Dumbledore,” said Fudge, childishly.

“I did,” Harry said.

“See, he admits it!” Umbridge shouted, rather louder than she should've, given the looks she received.

“The Patronus charm is listed by Ministry classification as a grade one listed light-magic protection spell and as such any Lord of this Wizengamot is allowed to a spell of its type without question, as it can be assumed the Lord’s life, or in this case soul is in danger.”

“There was, sir, sorry, Minister.” said Harry, trying to keep up the naivety routine, “There were two dementors.”

“Rubbish! Snapped the balding man. More lies!”

“I have a witness who will testify that there were,” replied Dumbledore, warningly.

“Dementors stay in Azkaban.” snapped Fudge.

“Apart from when you need three hundred of them to be stationed around the children of Hogwarts itself.” Said a smart-looking man in hexagonal glasses.

“That was to aid in the capture of Sirius Black, Lord Boot and you know it!”

“Objection,” called Lucius Malfoy, “Irrelevant.”

“Sustained,” agreed Amelia Bones.

Dumbledore waved his hand as if to wave that part of the conversation away and said, “Whether there were or weren't, is of no consequence here. Just as we were able to track the casting of the charm, we would’ve been able to track if there were any muggles nearby and there weren't. My esteemed Wizengamot, while I will be more than happy if you wish to produce my witness, whether or not Lord Slytherin-Potter here was in danger is irrelevant, the fact is we know that he cast the spell with no muggle to know of it. We would've been able to tell if he was in the presence of a muggle. Our code of honour in the Wizengamot is total, if we do not trust in the system, our old ways, our traditions are lost. What other evidence is there? Are we going to now start prosecuting our Lords without a shred of incriminating evidence? What is the crime here? An emancipated wizard casting a spell alone and not being in danger of breaking the Statute of Secrecy?”

“This is ridiculous,” said a very flustered Umbridge, “We all know that Potter is a liar with what you and he have been spouting since the end of the Third Task. He is a little, lying boy, nothing more.”

“That’s Lord Slytherin-Potter, Madam Undersecretary,” came a deep, booming voice.

“Thank you Lord Rowle,” Umbridge simpered, “But that doesn’t change my point.”

“What has he lied about in this courtroom, he admitted to casting the spell?” said an elderly woman to the right of Harry, he knew who she was just by the stuffed vulture perched on a very old-looking hat.

There was silence as Fudge and Umbridge looked panickingly at each other, Dumbledore took complete advantage and jumped back into the conversation.

“My Lords and Ladies, what next? What could we become if this legal precedent is set? If in the future you were forced into a situation where you needed to cast a spell in future outside your own homes in an area where muggles may be nearby, but there were none, threat, or no threat, as honourable house members you would expect our traditions to be upheld. You'd expect that there would be some shred of investigation before even deciding whether there should be a hearing, would you not? If this precedent is set, even if you couldn’t completely prove your reasoning or the circ*mstances, the Ministry would effectively be banning the public use of magic except in all magical-only settlements. There are nineteen times more witches and wizards living in settlements with both muggles and magical than in our all-magical settlements put together! If this house votes based on this sheer lack of evidence that Lord Slytherin-Potter is guilty when there is no actual crime here in the first place, the legal precedent set would be unmaking laws and traditions that have been in place for over a thousand years. What guidelines do we even have for sentencing someone who isn’t guilty of anything? A free ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s for dragging him in front of us all for no good reason?”

This earned him a huge laugh from the members around him and Harry knew that this was all over.

“Honourable members, you all know that I am in no way a fan of maintaining all of the old ways, but banning the use of magic alone in public places, well…it's just downright anti-wizard, anti-witch, anti-magic. I'm sorry the Minister called you all in today just to waste your time.”

This turned the chatter up to eleven, and one wizard in a scarlet set of robes stood up and said “I move that this is a mistrial, Fudge, shut it down before you embarrass yourself any further.”

This caused several more “aye"s of agreement from the hall.

“Seconded,” said Lord Greengrass.

“Very well,” said Amelia Bones, “Lumos on high to vote a mistrial.”

The entire room was set aglow immediately. It was obvious that there were barely any wands not lit so Madame Bones didn't even bother to count them.

“Mistrial declared, case cancelled. Lord Dumbledore as you are no longer Lord Slytherin-Potter’s counsel, please sit as Chief Warlock to close the session. Lord Slytherin-Potter, please take your seat as one of The Great Seven, congratulations. Until the room has been adjusted accordingly, please sit with the Most Ancient and Noble Houses.”

Harry stood from his seat as Dumbledore dispelled his armchair and they went their separate ways. He walked over to where Madame Bones had indicated and watched Lord Greengrass conjure a comfortable mahogany seat for him.

“Thank you, Lord Greengrass,” said Harry with a smile to the blond man, who nodded in response. Harry opened his mouth to speak further but caught Cyrus’ nod towards Dumbledore, a polite nudge that the Chief Warlock was about to speak.

Dumbledore, now on the same podium where the Minister had sat and now fashioning what looked like a long, gold-leafed scarlet scarf draped around his shoulders, banged a gavel on the podium in front of him.

“Previously stated business concluded,” he said “Any other business?”

Harry began to raise his hand, but Lord Greengrass next to him whispered, “Stand.”

Dumbledore looked up at Harry with a raised eyebrow as he got to his feet.

“The Chief Warlock recognises Lord Slytherin-Potter,” Albus said.

Harry took a deep breath to focus. He needed to appear inexperienced, but not stupid here.

“I have several questions, being new to the court and I wondered if they could be answered here quickly, rather than continue to struggle through endless books on laws and traditions to find certain things that I’m sure to you all are common knowledge. I’d like to bring honour to my noble house and respect our laws and traditions. I don't want to make votes on the future of the Wizarding World unless I am clued up on them.”

Harry mentally praised himself for that introduction.

Dumbledore smiled and said, “Very well, Lord Slytherin-Potter. In the interest of us all having a hand in bringing Lord Slytherin-Potter into the fold, please, anyone with the expertise answer and introduce yourself. It has been many a year since a Great Seven Lord has been inducted and a good opportunity to put names to faces I’m sure he has read about. What would you like to know?”

“So,” Harry started steadily, “I know in the muggle world sometimes newspapers are owned by the government. Is the Daily Prophet owned by the Ministry?”

An ugly old man in purple robes stood immediately and gruffly said “Lord Parkinson.”

Harry nodded to him and Lord Parkinson continued, “My Lord, the Daily Prophet is a publicly traded company. Several members have shares, though there are laws in place regarding members with shares having unfair influence. In any case, the Ministry and all head of department positions are forbidden from holding any shares.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” Harry said with a smile and nod of recognition, “I’m told your relative Pansy is a credit to the school house named after my own. Is it illegal for the newspapers to quote Ministry officials’ words incorrectly or out of context?”

“Lady Augusta Longbottom, my Lord.” said the elderly lady, standing up "And yes, the Ministry keeps a record of said quotes given to the press for verification as verified quotes from upper officials represent the view of the Ministry itself.”

“Thank you, Lady Longbottom,” Harry replied, “I consider Neville, I mean Heir Longbottom, to be a close personal friend, his Herbology skills got me through the second task of the Triwizard Tournament. You should be proud of him.”

“I am, thank you.”

“Just a quick one, Lady Longbottom. Dragging me in front of you all, slandering me in the papers, and then this mistrial having been declared, that would mean I could sue for reparations for attacking my House’s honour, wouldn't it?”

“Damn right it would.” replied the Lady with a chuckle.

“Now hold on one second!”

“Silence Madame Undersecretary, “ said Dumbledore, almost as if he was bored of her expected response “Any more questions my Lord?”

Harry smiled and looked around him, taking in the atmosphere, and the undivided attention he had in the room.

“Just three, Chief Warlock, but I’m sure these can be quick, no one needs to get up for a formal address. Hypothetically, if a Lord of a Most Noble and Ancient house with no direct heir did not receive a fair trial it would be an insult to the old ways and of traditions we hold dear, wouldn't it?”

Murmuring began amongst the court.

“Damn straight,” came the voice of Lord Greengrass next to him.

“And if anyone who is the sole member of any given noble family is tried and sentenced to Azkaban legitimately, is Gringotts bound by some sort of law to freeze the assets of their vault until they have served their time or officially been pardoned?”

Dumbledore himself answered this one. “They are. If there were no other presumably innocent family members, a house's family magic would seal the vault, as punishment for the House’s dishonour.”

“So…” Harry said, smirking at the increasing volume of the people around him.

“Hypothetically, if such a vault were to be accessed, and withdrawal made, it would prove a trial was never conducted and the lone Lord never convicted, correct?

“Obviously, if that is ever the case, Lord Slytherin-Potter that would be the case, yes.” drawled Lucius Malfoy patronisingly.

“Well then,” Harry said, clapping his hands together, before reaching into his pocket. He’d barely begun to cast the gemino charm on the piece of parchment when the room fell to silence with bated breath. Most, unlike Lucius Malfoy, were now able to see past the schoolboy charade.

“Lord Greengrass, can you distribute these please.” Harry asked “I’ve not quite gotten the hang of the targeted dispersal charm when it's multiple people yet.”

“Certainly.” the blond wizard replied. With a swish of his light brown copies of the receipt were sent fluttering like birds across the chamber were issued to all members of the House. Harry sent the original copy to Dumbledore’s desk himself.

“My Lords and Ladies, I present to you all copies of, and to the head table, an original, verified copy of a receipt from this morning regarding an extraction made on behalf of Lord Sirius Black, complete with Gringotts seal.”

Chaos.

Chapter 6: Repercussions

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - Repercussions

The courtroom was in sheer pandemonium. Some people were shouting at Harry, some amongst themselves, some just so the people they were trying to speak to could hear them amongst the din. Everyone apart from Harry, Dumbledore, and Amelia Bones was on their feet and trying to get their points across. Even Lord Greengrass was on his feet right next to Harry and was shouting at a short dumpy witch three seats along that "It doesn't matter if the line should belong to Heir Malfoy, he wasn't convicted, Malfoy's not the heir!"

"ORDER, ORDER!" came the deep, booming voice of Albus Dumbledore, accompanied by what Harry thought must've been some sort of volume charm on his gavel because the sound it made when Dumbledore smacked it off his desk was absolutely horrendous. It certainly did get everyone to stop shouting at each other though, likely more for fear that their ears might start bleeding should the accursed sound be reproduced rather than anything.

"This is a travesty, Chief Warlock." came the scouse voice of Lord Bulstrode. "We can't be having our peers sent to Azkaban without trial."

"He doesn't need a trial," said Amos Diggory, "Everyone knows the only bit of Pettigrew they found was a finger."

Harry frowned. Why was Cedric's dad behaving this way? He needed to say something.

"I don't know why you think like this, Lord Diggory." he said, "Apart from the fact that everyone deserves a fair trial, even if you thought he was a Death Eater, which he isn't, do you think I, the person whose parents were allegedly betrayed by Sirius Black to the end that it caused their deaths, would bring attention to his lack of trial unless I was completely sure that he was innocent?"

A grumble of agreement came from the Chamber.

"There needs to be an inquiry, Albus." said a soft-spoken, very old wizard on the third row.

"Yes, Lord Doge and I'm sure Madame Bones and the DMLE will be happy to look into the administration's oversight in this matter." replied the Chief Warlock. Amelia Bones nodded vehemently to the crowd.

"It was nothing to do with us," said Fudge, proudly. "It was Minister Bagnold's administration. I, of course, wouldn't dare to preside over such a miscarriage of justice."

Harry couldn't help it, he didn't like the smarmy, manipulative man, he just had to pipe up.

"Apart from when you tried to prosecute me for no crime whatsoever."

There were several laughs in the hall and Minister Fudge went red-faced.

"Why you…" the blustering man said, almost comically waving his fist at him in anger, but Cyrus Greengrass jumped in before the Minister could get out any of the expletives he was preparing.

"We still need Lord Black to come to a trial, particularly difficult if he is still on the run."

"AHA!" Fudge cried out, "We will have to try you again Lord Slytherin-Potter, for aiding and abetting a known fugitive. You had a duty even when you were only Heir of House Potter to let us know his whereabouts."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Apart from the fact I couldn't have told you where he was if I wanted to, Minister, I've known him to be not guilty for almost a year now and he still has a "Kiss on Sight'' order on him, it seems like you're suggesting that I, Lord Slytherin-Potter, or as Heir Potter, should've turned in a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House that knew to be innocent, knowing that he would immediately have been subjected to the Dementors Kiss? There's no way that with the scale and expense of the hunt that has been conducted, I would've been believed as a student without tangible evidence. Use your brain, man."

"He was on the run!" Fudge snapped, "It doesn't matter if he didn't get a trial! Your words are LIES."

Harry wouldn't let the Minister shake him now, not when he was this close.

"Let's give that quote to the Prophet, shall we? "It doesn't matter if he didn't get the trial." What a lovely official statement from the voice of the entire Ministry."

"You better shut up, Minister or I'm sure someone will shut it for you." said a stern-looking wizard to the right of Lucius Malfoy."

"Threats will not be tolerated, Lord Nott," said Amelia Bones.

"Apologies to the court, ma'am. I was just stating that we may even have to hold the Minister in contempt if he keeps digging himself a deeper and deeper hole.

"I tell you what, Minister," said Harry, not wanting to lose the momentum, "Regardless of your clear disdain of our laws, obviously now Lord Black must stand trial. If he's found guilty, I would be more than happy to stand trial. I'll even let you give me Veritaserum if questions to be asked are approved by all members of this court."

There was a sharp intake of breath.

"Deal." Fudge gritted out with a malicious grin.

"If Lord Black is found innocent though, Minister, I will be suing the Ministry for slander, mistrial and defamation of character. When I win that I'd be surprised if you last the week. I think we could get them both done in one day, Chief Warlock don't you?"

The hall started talking loudly again, but this was quickly ceased by another of Dumbledore's cracks of his gavel.

"Yes, I believe it could." Dumbledore answered, before addressing the chamber "All proposed cases to be tried on the Solstice. A notification will be placed in all wizarding publications to invite Lord Black. The Kiss on Sight order is rescinded. Any further business?"

Silence in the Wizengamot, though it was obvious people couldn't wait to start talking again.

"Very well. I hereby conclude this session. The next will be on the aforementioned solstice. Good day to you all."

*Crack* went the gavel.

Harry waited for Professor Dumbledore, who took his time speaking to several members of the court before they left.

As they left the room themselves, Albus told Harry how incredibly proud he was of him, and how impressed he was with how prepared he had been. When they got in the elevator to go back to the main level, they found themselves completely alone.

They spent no time in getting rid of the formalities of using each other's first names now Harry was officially ascended.

"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly "I viewed your memory as you asked, and apart from having a huge thirst for the regrettably private ancient family magic you have in there, I'm happy for you to practise your magic after school, as long as you aren't training yourself to kill. As a Lord now I can't exactly tell you what you can and can't do but I am responsible for the welfare of my students, emancipated or not. I would prefer you had someone with you too, preferably an adult who might have a bit more experience understanding some of the more esoteric titles. Sirius, perhaps? He used to be an Auror and between you and me, I'm sure we can get him found innocent."

That's…that's great Professor," Harry replied with a smile, "And thank you… And yeah, I'll talk to him, but one thing…" he trailed off for a second worrying if telling Dumbledore was a risk "Iiiif I had a way to safely get there instantly at any point…"

"Then you would get plenty of extra practice, as long as you didn't venture into the main school." was the Headmaster's interrupting reply.

"Thank You, sir."

"But you train to incapacitate, not to kill, understood?" Dumbledore said, looking down the bridge of his long, crooked nose, warningly

"Yes sir"

Harry couldn't help but wonder how Dumbledore expected him to kill Voldemort without training to kill him, the idea was ridiculous. He'd not had any choice about telling Dumbledore about the Chamber in the first place when Madam Pomfrey had been burned by the locket. He was always going to find out Harry was Lord Slytherin eventually and alienating the man with secrets before he'd even gotten started wouldn't have been the right plan. As much as Harry now suffered from a burgeoning mistrust of him, he was both Chief Warlock and Hogwarts was his domain, and Harry spent most of his year there. Now he was staying at the Headquarters at Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix as well; Harry thought there was just no point making his life more difficult than it needed to be.

They walked into the atrium to a flurry of reporters but both Harry and the headmaster brushed them away as they passed through them with repeated calls of "No comment." until they saw Arthur Weasley waiting for them.

"Harry?" Arthur said excitedly, "How'd it go?"

"Still not expelled, Mr Weasley " Harry replied with a bright smile. He blinked, the flashes from all the cameras going off were really annoying.

"Excellent, and let's keep it that way," the Weasley patriarch said with a grin.

Harry couldn't help grinning as Arthur's hand groped for the doorknob to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

As the door swung open, all the Weasleys, Hermione, Tonks, and Sirius were waiting for them, and before Harry could say anything Arthur got there first, jubilantly shouting, "He did it!" to huge cheers.

Ginny was there first and ran into him like a bullet, wrapping her arms around him. Harry thought she was very bony, but when she pulled away, he couldn't help but see the bright blush that reached her ears. While everyone took their turns hugging him and congratulating him (apart from Ron), Fred and George chanted over and over, "He diiiid it! he diiid it!." and when they both captured him in a group hug, they made him jump up and down with them on the spot.

"So it went alright then?" Sirius said, awkwardly rubbing his hands together. His pale eyes and shrunken posture betrayed the emotions of a man who'd clearly been trying to do his level best all day to not even dare to hope that what his Godson had said he was going to try to do today when they'd spoken that morning had been successful.

"I'd say so," Harry said, casually leaning against the banister at the bottom of the stairs, "Considering I got you a trial."

"You did?" Sirius said, eyes wide in shock.

"You did?" Ron and Hermione said together, rooted to the spot.

"I did." Harry smiled.

"He diiid it! He diiid it!" Was sung even louder now as Sirius picked Harry up round the middle and spun him on the spot shouting " Yeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" at the top of his lungs.

"But… how did you do it?" Hermione almost spluttered, completely bewildered.

"Yes," came a calm, eerie voice from the kitchen to their right, "How did you do it, Lord Slytherin-Potter?"

Snape spat the last "P" in his sentence with venom before making himself scarce.

"What does he mean, Harry?" asked Sirius, confusedly.

Harry sighed and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. He had no idea how he was gonna handle this one.

"I guess we'd all better sit down."

Even after his lengthy explanation about what had happened at the trial, Ron and Hermione weren't happy. Even when Harry tried to tell them it was his personal family business about how he managed to come into his Lordship, Hermione especially wasn't satisfied.

"Look Hermione, the top and bottom of it is that I needed to find a way to get more power to defeat Voldemort and I found it."

"But why? And how? Is that why you've been so distant with us lately?"

Harry was distinctly irritated now "No Hermione, I've been distant because I watched someone get murdered right in front of me, then got tied to a gravestone, my arm slashed open, then watched the man who killed my parents rise from the grave and then he tortured me, threw me about like a ragdoll and then when I somehow escaped, I found out the Ministry, the people who are supposed to be the good guys is trying to force everyone to call me a liar for daring to speak up about what I'd been through."

Tears were in her eyes now, but Harry didn't look away from her.

The Weasleys, Sirius, and Hermione were all sitting around the kitchen table. Snape was nowhere to be seen. They all sat quietly now, the jubilant mood now turned sombre.

"That was a bit harsh, mate," said Ron.

Harry turned to look at Ron, not feeling guilty about the change of mood. It was time for some harsh truths.

"Was it?" Harry replied, trying not to show any frustration, but speaking to him imploringly, "Look at it logically. He tried to kill me as a baby, why? He's not been able to kill me three times now, why? He needed me to rise from the grave, why? Yes, we know he's going to keep coming after me but it's not just because he couldn't kill me as a baby and he's got a bruised ego. The question is why he had to try to kill me in the first place. I've looked up the history. After he was established and had followers he only appeared in one pitched battle where he all but obliterated the atrium of the Ministry to establish his dominance and he never made a direct hit on anyone himself after that. He always sent someone else to do it on the first approach.

The Longbottoms, the Bones, and the Prewetts were all attacked by inner circle Death Eaters like Crouch Jr. It's how he was able to instill such fear, using propaganda tools like the Dark Mark to create the idea that the already terrifying Death Eaters were led by an even more terrible Dark Lord. A sense of sheer hopelessness and despair was created by the knowledge that a family shouldn't dare to think of fighting Death Eaters, for fear that Voldemort could and would appear at any time and inflict a fate on them worse than they could possibly imagine. Voldemort's actual appearances in the war were to support them when things weren't going their way in a given attack or when their planned attacks were being thwarted by Aurors or members of the Order who had somehow managed to get hold of leaked information. There were more than a few people who escaped him, just like my parents, and maybe he let some escape just to tell the tale of the sheer horror of him. Sure, my parents did three times, but Neville's parents had escaped him multiple times and still he didn't go himself. But yet, he attacked me. More than that my family had to be hidden with the Fidelius charm because they knew that he wanted to kill us. The fact of the matter is Voldemort has always seen me as a threat, and all both know that if there's anything he isn't, it's stupid."

"So you're saying… something told Voldemort when you were little that you were a threat to him," Ron said.

"And…after what's happened, with you repeatedly escaping, it likely proves it." Hermione said, with tears streaming down her face and a big sigh of understanding "I bet there's a prophecy or something like what Trelawney gave you in third year with your name on it. God I hate divination."

The Golden Trio completely missed the side-eye exchange between Sirius and Arthur across the table.

"Probably, yeah." Harry replied, "But if I'm going to try to beat him, If I have a chance, it's gonna be through magics that Voldemort has never heard of, things he won't be able to counter. I won't tell you exactly how I became Lord of Slytherin and I definitely won't talk about the family magics; they've been a secret for over a thousand years. I have some books that are more general and don't have to be confidential, but they're all written in Parseltongue anyway."

"Parseltongue?!" Molly said loudly, "That's dark magic!" I won't have you bringing Ancient dark magic tomes into this house!"

"Parseltongue magic isn't inherently dark, Molly," said Arthur, not fazed by the surprised looks from around the table. "Many ancient Greek mages and several later on used parseltongue magic to heal and to call down various elements. It was only a couple of nasty Dark Lords including Voldemort that gave it a bad name."

"How do you know that Dad?" asked Ginny.

"Seventh-year History of Magic, Binns gets past the goblin wars eventually. The best part of his course, and I loved that class. That crisp monotone really forces you to concentrate and love the material, you know?"

Every other person around the table looked at Arthur Weasley like he was an alien.

"That's what my book is about, Mrs Weasley, healing magic. It's incredibly in depth, I've already learned the theory behind mending broken bones and reattaching severed limbs using a person's magic's intrinsic nature of knowing what their body should be like."

"Still," Molly said, biting her lip, "Salazar Slytherin wasn't a nice man."

"We can agree to disagree on that, I know a lot more about his history now and that whole anti-muggleborn thing, well it's the complete opposite of what we were led to believe. Slytherin wanted to protect muggleborns and make them stay in the castle all year to keep them safe from witch burnings."

"But the basilisk?" Arthur asked.

"To protect the secrets of the chamber."

"So that's where you came into your Lordship then," said Hermione, matter of factly.

Harry sighed and thought that it wasn't always great that you could trust Hermione to work it out.

"So… Now your magic is unprotected in the castle?" asked a twin.

"No Forge, Slytherin was still crafty, he'll have other protections." said the other.

Harry nodded.

Hermione looked up at Harry, hopefully, and in a near whine said "Harrrryyyy…"

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry answered with a knowing smirk.

"If there are any books that aren't in parseltongue can I please read them? I'll love you forever."

Sirius' tone became very severe all of a sudden. "No Hermione, family magic isn't to be shared outside marriage. There are strict rules against it."

"But that's not fair," she replied indignantly.

"Rules are rules." was his short reply.

"I tell you what Hermione," Harry said with an encouraging smile, "If there are any books I find in there that aren't parseltongue, but aren't family magic I'll share them with you, as long as Sirius says they don't look dodgy, okay?" said Harry.

To say this placated Hermione would be an understatement. She squeaked, got up, ran around the table, and gave him a big hug while Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny, looking at each other, rolled their eyes.

Ron sat with a furrowed brow as Molly got up and started to prepare the table in front of them for a late lunch.

"But…you're a Slytherin now," he said, still frowning.

"Still in Gryffindor, though Ron. And put it this way," Harry answered with a gleam in his eye, "Imagine Malfoy's face when he finds out."

"Wicked."

The same group were all again sat around the dining table the next morning, eating a hearty breakfast and in good spirits despite the dreary decor. Ron was busy stuffing his face with a huge pile of bacon, while Hermione was doing more reading than eating.

They all heard the sound of the front door opening and closing followed by an "Oh, for f*ck's sake" and then the now all too familiar flurry of bigoted expletives from the portrait of Sirius' dear mother. Tonks' repeated clumsiness followed by the house receiving an earful had become a daily joke now, and Harry grinned at the twins as they knew that Tonks would soon come stumbling in towards them in a few seconds.

True to form, looking distinctly ruffled, the Auror came bustling in, today sporting short, bright blue hair, a black Star Wars t-shirt, and boot-cut jeans.

"Wotcher everyone!" she said, slamming the Daily Prophet down on the table, "Looks like you made a stir yesterday Harry. Oh sorry, Lord Slytherin-Potter."

She grinned and gave an almost sarcastic curtsy. Hermione immediately snatched the newspaper up from the table and began to read aloud to the room.

"Potter ascends to Lord Slytherin-Potter, defies Fudge. Sirius Black was never given a trial!

In an unprecedented Wizengamot session yesterday, a disciplinary hearing for underage magic for the previously named Harry Potter was declared a mistrial when the defendant revealed and proved within the Ministry that, due to being among a full Wizengamot, he was now to complete Ascension to the position of Head of both Houses Slytherin7 and The Ancient and Noble House of Potter. No word as to how this feat was accomplished, however, it was told how Lord Slytherin-Potter came into his name at Hogwarts and was emancipated before he cast the spell the Ministry had detected two days ago - the Patronus Charm - and therefore there was no offence made.

After the session, several members of the Wizengamot stated that Minister Fudge, head of the session's Prosecution, still tried to try Lord Slytherin-Potter for no crime at all. At the Prophet, we believe it was due to the Minister and several other Ministry officials' statements that the Lord of House Slytherin has been lying about the resurrection of He-who-must-not-be-named. The Minister had no comment about this to state on this occasion.

However, in a shocking twist, Lord Slytherin-Potter also revealed that there had been transactions from Lord Sirius Black's account and demonstrated proof that due to magic-bound laws around the last remaining member within a noble family's magic and the sealing of Gringotts vaults, it was impossible that Azkaban-escapee Sirius Black ever received a trial in the first place.

The Wizarding World has been turned on its head but yet again the Minister refused to comment.

Sirius Black's trial date has been set for the annual solstice session and any previous warrants for his capture have been rescinded. He is to report to the Ministry at 8 am on that date as a free man.

Turn to page three to learn about Lord Slytherin-Potter's Challenge to the Minister should Lord Black be found innocent. "

"That's amazing," said Sirius, beaming proudly at his Godson.

"Notice how the Prophet won't call you a liar now you're a lord of the Seven," Arthur commented.

"And you've got a new photo walking out with Dumbledore," Hermione said, sliding the paper over to Harry. It wasn't a bad photo, he admitted. It was probably the first time he'd had a photo of himself in the paper where he'd been genuinely smiling.

"Oh, and Dumbledore gave me this letter to give to you, owls to here being redirected to Hogwarts and all."

Harry took the very nice-looking ivory envelope. Around the edges were several, gold-leafed swirls, and the letter was sealed with a dark green wax seal of the letter "G", surrounded by vines.

"That's the seal of the house of Greengrass," Sirius advised, "I wonder what he wants?"

Harry looked up at him with curiosity. "Well I sat next to him after the trial for the remainder of the session and I helped his daughter and Tracey with their Protego projects at the end of term."

"Ah so that's who you were talking to," said Hermione.

"You spoke to Daphne?" Ron said, not sure to be worried or impressed.

"Good on you," said Fred "That girl is redonkulous."

"Where've you heard the word "redonkulous?" said George with a grin.

"I heard a muggle use it the other day when we were outside the Leaky Cauldron."

"Why were you both outside the Leaky Cauldron, alone? Molly asked, famous Weasley temper beginning to flare.

"Mother, can't we have any secrets?" one of the twins asked, Harry couldn't tell which.

"Not from me, you can't." Molly snapped.

"Fine," the other twin said with an exaggerated sigh that they'd been caught out, "We were soliciting muggle prostitutes."

"George!"

"Just kidding, but we're still not gonna tell you. But yeah Harry, Daphne is hot. Her bum is legendary."

"George!"

"It's her boobs that do it for me."

"Fred!"

"Nah, it's her eyes that are the best."

Harry said absentmindedly, "They're…electrifying."

Then he looked up to realise he'd just said that out loud.

"Oooh, Harry's got a crush!" said Fred, and Harry couldn't help but blush.

"But Slytherins are dark, Harry and the Greengrasses are a dark family,"

Molly said, matter-of-factly.

"Are they?" asked Harry, sceptically, "Have they ever sided with Voldemort?"

"No, but they don't always vote for our policies, and our policies are for the good of our world, and they voted for the Werewolf Registration Act. Imagine how Remus would feel!"

"Mooney thinks it's a good bit of legislation. He's terrified of accidentally killing or turning someone, and while there are a lot of good ones, there are also bad werewolves out there who want to turn others. That act doesn't have anything to do with employment rights." said Sirius.

"But still, it means they struggle to get jobs," said Arthur pointedly.

"And it means they get discounts on the ingredients for the Wolfsbane Potions. The Greengrasses added that addendum and it's their Apothecaries that supply the ingredients," interjected Sirius again.

"I see," Molly said, clearly unhappy that she'd lost the argument through her own arrogance. Harry sighed, it seemed like quite a few of the supposedly Light side were incapable of critical thought. At least he knew now where Sirius stood, definitely moving towards the Grey sect.

"Have we finished having this discussion now, or are you going to let me open this letter?" Harry said, smirkingly.

"Don't be cheeky," Tonks said, teasingly.

"Our high Lord Slytherin-Potter has the right to be cheeky. Worship him," said Fred.

"Yes," said George, and together they chanted "All hail Lord Harry, Slayer of giant snakes and Master of making the Minister his bitch."

"I just… I just can't with you two.", cried Molly, exasperated as the rest of the group laughed and decided to start spelling the now clearing crockery to float towards the sink.

Harry, rolling his eyes at the twins' antics, licked a bit of baked bean sauce from his knife so he could use it to break the seal of the envelope, and then pulled out an equally fine piece of parchment and what a shiny piece of card and began to read:

Dear Lord Harry of House Slytherin7 and of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I was most impressed by your words and actions at the Wizengamot in the last session. You conducted yourself in a manner that befits your Houses.

I'm writing for three reasons:

Firstly, I want to tell you how grateful we are for your actions recently at the end of the school year. In case the letter ends up in the wrong hands, I will not discuss it further here.

Secondly, I would like to offer my family's support in aiding in your understanding of the traditions and customs of our world. As far as I've heard from my children, it wasn't until only recently that you've started to begin addressing Heirs of Noble Houses by their title until permission given otherwise, and as - if I can beg your pardon - you were unable to receive the proper education by your late father I want to offer you any assistance my family can provide. I want to be clear about my motives here, your newly ascended titular house is famed for its honouring of our land's respects and traditions and thus far, particularly with your conduct at the Ministry, you have done very well. However, there is quite a bit of nuance in places and it's quite easy to make an unintended faux pas. I understand some may feel you would be insulting your House's legacy if you do not continue to honour Salazar Slytherin's legacy in that regard. You've placed yourself in a position where if you continue to conduct yourself at your current level of high quality, you could very easily find that you have the opportunity to sway many opinions in the Wizengamot, particularly in light of the unfortunate events at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.

Finally, To further extend my gratitude for your recent actions regarding my daughters and because I think it's important that members of Noble houses should all become well acquainted with each other before leaving Hogwarts and because I understand that can be quite difficult when members are in different houses, I am extending you this invitation to a party at my residence. Please be aware that all guests bar Daphne's best friend who have also been invited are Heirs from your year group. Several are from my daughters' house, including Heir Draco Malfoy, a boy whom I believe you are not on the best of terms with. However, also invited is Heir Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor and several other students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. You need not worry about your safety, our wards are some of the best in Britain. All other accepting guests will receive a Verificantus portkey to just outside the wards of our property, while you are to arrive via Floo. The name of the property on the Floo Network will be changed to "The Greenest of Grass" for up to half an hour following your requested arrival time and then the floo will be deactivated. If you are happy to attend, I would like you to attend at ten am rather than eleven-thirty as is stated on the enclosed duplicated invitation. This is to allow us to thank you properly and for you to spend some time with Daphne before the guests arrive. A swift RSVP would be appreciated.

Sincerely,

Lord Cyrus of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass

Rosa Nutrita Habet Acerrimus Spinas

The Nourished Rose Has The Sharpest Thorns

Harry hummed in thought and handed the letter to Sirius to read before taking a look at the invitation. It was on a glossy cream card, with vines bordered around the edges, and was written in emerald green ink. It read:

"The Most Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass cordially invites Lord Harry Slytherin-Potter to the summer celebration of Heir Daphne Greengrass' 16th birthday at

Greengrass Manor on the 20th June 1995 at 11:30 am.

Food and lightly alcoholic beverages will be provided. Dress code: muggle summer vacation wear, as there will be the opportunity to use our swimming pool.

Gifts not expected, but are appreciated.

Please send an RSVP notification no sooner than three days before the event. Accepting guests will receive password-activated Verificantus portkeys that can be activated for one hour from 11:30 am and will land outside our wards. Guests will then be met upon arrival. The time of the end of the event will be at our discretion. Returning portkeys can be made at the guest's request or will be provided at the end of the event."

Harry handed the invitation to Sirius, who took it quickly having just finished the letter. Harry took a couple of bites of toast while he waited for what Sirius thought.

"Greengrass must've heard us talking, Harry," Sirius said with a chuckle.

"What is it?" asked Hermione.

"First of all, Hermione, it's rude to ask people what is in their letters unless you're specifically invited to know their contents, especially letters to Heads of houses." Sirius chided.

"It's fine, Sirius," Harry interjected, though he had to admit he was concerned about Hermione prying into his business, "It's an invitation to a party."

"A party? For who?"

"For Daphne's birthday."

Hermione looked puzzled. "But you've only spoken to her once," she said.

"That you know of," Harry replied with a frown.

"Well, when else?"

"Family business, Hermione," Sirius said.

"Oh, please," she replied, with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not "oh, please." at all!" Harry exclaimed, "When we say family business, it means private information about one or multiple houses that you are not to be privy to. Without those houses' permission, I'm not gonna reveal their information and won't discuss it with anyone unless I believe any of it compromises my ideals. I've got to build trust with them, Hermione, because if I want to suggest any changes in the Wizengamot I might need their support. And you know what? I'm fed up with your need to constantly know where I've been, and who I've spoken to, and yes I love how much you care about me Hermione but I'm an emancipated Lord now and you are not my keeper."

Hermione, thoroughly cowed, nodded.

"Woah, Harry," said Ron through a mouthful of bacon. "When…" swallow, "Did you get so…domineering? Is that the word?"

"Right around the time I decided I'm gonna kill Voldemort before he kills me," Harry replied.

"That's...that's pretty scary," Ron said, clearly worried for his friend.

"Enough with the depressing sh*t," Tonks said, "What about this party? Do you know who else is invited?"

"Heirs of Noble Houses from Harry's year looks like. We know Neville and Draco are going." Sirius replied.

"If they accept," Harry pointed out.

"Oh they'll accept, the opportunity for politicking here is huge," said Sirius.

"But Draco's Dad is a Death Eater, he could turn up as Voldemort in disguise, it's not safe. He's not going," said Molly. Harry tried not to glare at her response.

"It will be, and he will if he wants to" Sirius replied, "Lord Greengrass has given Harry solo access to his floo, and is forking out for password-activated Verificantus Portkeys to the others."

"Wow. They're not cheap." Arthur said.

"What's a Vertical Panther Portkey anyway?" Ron asked.

"Verificantus," Hermione said to the room, clearly about to become a Magical World dictionary, "A single-person portkey, usually activated by password by the user within a defined timeframe. The portkey washes away all spells and enchantments that might otherwise be used to conceal or change an identity, including polyjuice potions. They're the gold standard, and are usually used by magical governments to send Ambassadors in particularly tricky diplomatic situations."

"I still think it's too risky."

"Well it's a good thing he's emancipated now and no one but him gets to decide if he goes or not, isn't it Molly?" Arthur said with a warning look to his wife.

"It also says the dress code is muggle vacation wear and you can go in the swimming pool," Sirius said with a grin.

Ron was the quickest to the mark.

"That means girls in bikinis," he said with wide eyes,

"I'm going." Harry blurted out without a second of hesitation.

Sirius, Tonks, and the twins laughed. Hermione and Molly groaned. Ron looked positively green with envy.

Arthur wasn't listening, he was too busy thinking about those "Heskerlaters" at the "Choob" Station.

Ginny ran from the room and was heard stomping up the stairs before Molly went rushing after her daughter to check she was alright.:

"Well," said Sirius "I guess it means we need to have a longer chat about the party at some point. Not right now, there's just over a week to the party, but if you're gonna be Lord Slytherin-Potter we need to make sure you can handle it. There's a lot of politics going on behind the scenes…and you'll need something to wear."

"We can go now if you want, Harry, I've got today off and we can get Daphne's present from the Alley while we're there," Tonks said, grabbing a buttered slice of toast off Ginny's abandoned plate.

"Great, thanks."

"I don't wanna be out all day though so lift-off in T-Minus thirty."

"Where did you get that from?" Fred asked.

"What about this T-shirt makes you think I don't like muggle movies?"

"Fair point," George grinned.

"Ooh, please tell me," Arthur piped up excitedly, "What is a Star Wars?"

Chapter 7: Different Tears for Different Reasons

Chapter Text

Harry was glad that for once he managed to stay on his feet when he went shooting out of the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, but it was a near thing. Tonks had gone through the Floo network first for his protection of course, and she managed to grab a hold of him by the scruff of his shirt before he face-planted the worn stone floor. He couldn’t help but let out a groan straightaway when he saw that the patrons of the pub were already staring at him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be in the Alley for too long and they could just get out into muggle London. He didn’t want to have to deal with their stares all day.

“So, where do you wanna go first? What do you wanna get her?” Tonks asked, brushing the soot off her arms.

“Erm…I dunno.”

“Well, what does she like?”

“I don’t know, she’s good at potions, and she’s really protective of her family, and…she’s a girl?” Harry finished weakly.

“Ah, so like the typical boy, you’re hopeless,” Tonks teased.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a sigh, “She’s rich too, what do you get a girl who probably has everything she wants?”

“Something she doesn’t know she wants,” Tonks answered with a shrug,

But what didn’t she even know wants? He didn’t really know that much about her, only from what Astoria had said, what he’d learned from their conversations and the rumours about her that had been spread around the school. Then, Harry had an idea. He might not know what she wants, but he might be able to get her something she needs, and with what the need was, the need to protect her family, well, with what had gone through, he would do anything to make that happen.

“Wait, Tonks is there some kind of spell you can use to make something produce more magic?” Harry asked.

“Nah, you can’t just create magic out of nothing, you’d have to collect it from somewhere, and there’s not many places with that much ambient magic,” Tonks replied.

He hummed. Tonks watched the gears turn in Harry’s head as he thought.

“Would Hogwarts count?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” she answered with a little chuckle, “That place is riddled with the stuff.”

“And how would you go about casting a spell to make something do that…collect ambient magic?”

“You can’t do it with a spell, it’s usually done with runes. It’s a function of some wards actually, the ambient magic from the inhabitants keeps the wards strong.”

“Is there somewhere we can go to get something like that?”

“Daphne’s house already has amazing wards, Harry.”

“I know, just humour me, at least I’ve got an idea.”

“Okay, follow me.”

Tonk led him through the alley past a wide array of gawking and staring witches and wizards. He even received a few catcalls, including from what looked like a reporter who’d suddenly stopped interviewing a shopkeeper about his grand reopening and gone running down the street after them, trying to ask for an interview. Tonks just shot him a warning look and turned her eyes bright red. The man soon got the message.

A little bell jingled as Harry and Tonks entered Edgecombe Enchanters. The shop was nearly empty, just a single, immaculate room with a smooth, grey tile floor and a large mahogany front desk that spread across the width of the store. Behind the desk sat a young, unassuming man, in tortoise-shell spectacles and fine navy blue robes. He smiled as Harry and Tonks entered and bowed when Harry was the one who approached the desk.

“Lord Slytherin-Potter, congratulations on your ascension, my name is Lionus Edgecombe, how can I help?” he said.

“I’m looking for something that can absorb ambient magic and store it, then when activated could be used instead of a wizard’s core to power a spell.” Harry

The man blinked. “You’re talking about a ritual stone. They’re more expensive than your usual ward-stone and not purchased very often as they have to be made from scratch and require an expensive reset after they’ve been used three times. Several runes have to be buffed out and re-engraved. You only really see them at Yule for blessing ceremonies and occasionally for big events. We do have one in stock though, give me a moment.”

The man went into a back room and returned later with a large, jet-black stone about the size of a bowling ball.

“This will set you back a thousand galleons my Lord.” the man said. Harry almost heard Tonks’ wink behind him.

“Ah,” Harry replied, “I may have to go to Gringotts.”

“No need, my Lord. I can create a Noble Family Cheque, you simply need to touch whatever jewel your House uses as its heirloom and touch your wand to the parchment, the order will be then sent to Gringotts for an immediate transfer within accounts for a 1.5% transaction fee.”

“Excellent,” Harry said with a happy nod, “I was worried if I went into Gringotts I’d immediately be dragged into a long, drawn-out meeting about my holdings with some King Goblin called Rocknor the Unreasonably Brutal or something, and to be honest Lionus, I really can't be bothered with all that fanfare today. We’ll leave that for another chapter of my life.”

Lionus laughed and leaning forward in a stage whisper, said, “I don’t blame you my Lord, but it's Ragnok the Bold, and from what I’ve heard you wouldn’t be far wrong.” So, will you be purchasing it today?”

“If it’s shrunk and set into something, would it still be effective?” Harry asked.

“I’m afraid not, the shrinking spell would mess with the runes.” the shopkeeper said,

“Ah.” Harry said, scuppered .”Could you make a custom one, and in less than a week?”

“How small are we talking?”

“Really small, like the size of a knut. I’d like it set into jewellery”

“Hmm, it can be done, but it will be expensive and we can’t supply the jewellery.”

“Money is no object,” Harry said, with a wave of his hand. If it drained his account, he was sure he could find a not-too-important and none-confidential family tome in the Chamber of Secrets and sell it for a small fortune, and he had loads of those.

“I’ll need a few minutes to work it out, I’ll have to go into the back room and check my current supplies.”

Lionus went into the backroom and Harry turned to Tonks who was sitting in the bay window at the front of the shop, waiting patiently.

“I have no idea why you’re buying this Harry and it could be unbelievably expensive. Are you sure?”

Harry smiled, “I’ve never been surer of anything, I know what I’m doing.” After all, he would give anything for just one day with his parents, what would Daphne and her family give for more time with Astoria?

“Still, it means we’re going to have to go to a jeweller’s too. This is gonna be like… wedding present level expensive.”

“I’d buy it for anyone who needed it for the reasons that I am, I won’t say more,” Harry replied. He made his decision and he wasn’t going to budge.

“Fair enough.”

A few minutes later Lionus came back in and presented them an invoice for five thousand galleons. Tonks whistled at the price, but Harry made no hesitation in grasping his pendant and touching his wand to the parchment provided.

Lionus smiled and said “Lord Slytherin-Potter, thank you so much. I will have this ready in three days.”

“That’s perfect.”

“If you go across the alley to Llewelyn’s Jewels, tell them I sent you, they’ll give you a little discount and I’ll liaise with the shop for you to have the stone set into whatever you purchase when it’s ready. You’ll get a letter from me when the whole piece is finished and you can come and pick up the item then.”

“Wow, that's brilliant, Mr Edgecombe, if I get the opportunity to recommend you to anyone, I shall. Ah, and please send the letter to Nymphadora Tonks, owls are getting redirected to a more distant location for my safety. Tonk’s would you mind picking it up?”

“Very well.” Lionus agreed.

“Sure,” replied Tonks.

The shopkeeper bowed to Harry, and Harry and Tonks made to leave the shop. As they opened the door, Lionus called“Oh, and my Lord, if you wish to purchase jewellery with some other enchantment already engraved onto it, it will need to be made of Goblin Silver.”

“Thanks, Lionus, I’ll bear that in mind,” Harry replied, as he closed the door behind him.

Twenty minutes later Harry and Tonks left Llewelyn’s Jewels with a receipt for the second part of Daphne’s present. Tonks was almost beside herself at the money he’d spent but admitted she was more pissed by how unreasonably rich Harry was now that he was Lord of the House of Slytherin and the House of Potter. They were walking back down the Alley towards the Leaky Cauldron and Harry was thinking about the party, feeling more and more excited by the minute. Now, they were going to get swimming shorts to go in a swimming pool and that meant actually seeing some of the girls from school not in the school robes or thick jumpers he’d usually see them in at Hogwarts. Even in the summer term, the Scottish Highlands could get very chilly, and only occasionally had it been warm enough to wear a t-shirt. But wait, that would mean the others would see him as well!

Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable, never really having liked what he saw in the mirror. The Dursleys hadn’t exactly paid any real attention to his eating habits and many times had deliberately given him scraps to eat or nothing at all. Sure, they’d never hit him hard enough to leave any unsightly scars, but Harry guessed that was more out of fear of wizards than anything else. He placed his hands on the side of his chest self-consciously as they walked and felt suddenly totally on edge. What if they laughed at him? Sure he knew he’d filled out a little bit last year, he’d trained really very hard for the tournament, and Quidditch had been good to his body over the years but still, he’d always been smaller than his peers.

Now though, he dreaded going to the party. He really wanted to go, but how on earth would he look standing next to even Neville? Harry had to admit that his friend had started to fill out the last time he’d seen him. Was there something he could do about it? He only had nine days? Maybe a spell? Wait, Tonks was a Metamorphmagus, right? She knew about changing your body more than anyone!

“Tonks, I need to talk to you about something before we leave the Alley, I might want to buy something but… I need to talk to you privately about it first.”

She gave him a weird look and a hesitant “Suurre, follow me,”

The auror led him into a small alleyway off the main strip. She waved her wand and Harry felt everything go quiet for a moment before it returned to normal. Some kind of privacy ward was in effect.

“What didya wanna talk about, man?” she said with a smile.

“Erm…”Harry said, “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

He suddenly thought that this was a bad idea, surely Tonks was going to judge him.

“Harry, trust me, it's nothing I’ve never heard before,” she replied, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“Okay, well… it's just that…” he started, but the next bit he said so fast he pretty much said it all as one long word.

“The Dursleys never really fed me and that's why I’m so skinny and when Daphne sees me next week she’s gonna think I’m disgusting.”

Tonks blinked, nonplussed.

“Well, two things. First, if she doesn’t like what she looks like she doesn't deserve you and second, what do you mean the Dursleys didn’t feed you?”

“Damn,” Harry thought, “Of course she was gonna attach onto that bit. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, but can we get something to make it better” Harry replied.

“No, now you’ve said that Harry, I can’t just drop this. I’m an Auror remember?”

“Oh.” Harry said looking down, but really in his head he said “f*ck. Brain - engage before mouth, Potter, you dickhe*d.”

So you’re not just naturally skinny? You promise?” Tonks asked.

“I mean I don’t know for certain, but I don’t exactly measure up to people in my age group.”

“Yeah, I did notice that,” Tonks answered, and chewed her lip. “Look, Harry, I might be able to help you but you’re gonna need to tell me what you meant about what you meant by they didn't feed you.”

Harry wished he hadn’t brought it up, but it was too late now, and what would he rather do, not tell her what his life with the Dursleys was like, or finally get the chance to fix something about his body he’d been wanting for ages but never knew how?

So, he told her. He told her everything, from sleeping in the cupboard under the stairs to his repeated haircuts to the bars on his windows. He’d never really thought about the implications of talking about it, but saw her skin get paler and her features more angular with every sentence he spoke.

Tonks took a big deep breath. It took her a good twenty seconds to say anything. Harry just stared at the wall opposite, feeling utterly drained, if he were honest.

“Okay, Harry.” she said, and Harry noticed that suddenly he could tell that friend Tonks was gone, and professional Auror had taken her place, ”I know you’ve just told me some very sensitive, personal things and I’m going to do my best to help you, but I need you to realise that what you’ve just told me is against the law. It's… it's child abuse. I can’t do nothing about this, it's my job and it's against the law for me to not report it. I have what’s called a legal duty of care. Especially as loving or not they might be towards…Dudley wasn’t it? There’s still a child remaining in an abusive household, muggle or not.”

Harry felt himself go completely still, and felt the air get sucked out of his lungs as he realised he felt very vulnerable and very weak. He’d…been abused? He realised how shaky he felt; he needed to sit down. He slid the stone wall he’d been leaning on and sat down on the floor of the alleyway, head in his hands. He felt Tonks sit next to him.

“People can’t know about this. People can’t know what they did to me,” he said, barely able to look at her.

“They don’t have to. It can be just you, me and Amelia Bones. They might want to extract a memory with a professional in St Mungos but they’re all kept confidential.”

“But won’t the Dursleys get charged? The whole Wizengamot, the Wizarding World would know eventually.”

“No, Harry. There are special procedures for things like this. That wouldn’t happen unless you wanted it to,”

Harry hesitated and then looked up from his hands. Tonks was looking at him kindly, her face had resumed its normal, caring, heart shape.

“And Sirius?” he asked, chewing his lip.

“As far I’m concerned you’re an adult now. You tell him when you tell him, but you might find him even more understanding that I am, you know the family he grew up with. And we don’t need to do the whole investigation now, Merlin knows how much you and Amelia have on your plates, it’s not like you’re going back to the Dursleys ever again anyway.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He’d never thought about it like that. He was emancipated now, He’d never have to go back again. Suddenly he felt the need to give Tonks a huge hug, which she returned in kind. When they finally pulled away, she said. “We’re gonna keep this secret, and I’m gonna get you some potions, but the potions I’m gonna buy would draw attention to the problem if you’re seen going in there. As an Auror, for me, it wouldn’t, I’m just doing my job. You stay here and I’ll be back in five minutes.

“Do you need some money?” Harry asked.

“No, don’t worry about it,” she answered as she got to her feet.

She smiled at him and left the alleyway. Five minutes later she came back and handed him a small brown bag containing six small crystal vials, three with a clear, sparkling liquid, and three with a dark green, almost muddy-looking fluid. Harry thought he recognised that one.

“Okay,” she said, casting her privacy spell again, “Three malnutrition replacement potions, they'll build your muscles as if they were built at the stage you would've been at when you did the exercise in the first place. You take one a night before bed and a pain potion, because depending on how much they stunted your growth you could be in for a heck of a growth sport. You’re what now, five three and a hundred and twenty pounds?”

“Five-one and just over a hundred, actually.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I got the strong painkillers,” Tonks replied with an almost uncomfortable laugh.

“Thanks, Tonks.”

“Good job we can use magic to resize things eh, or there’d be no point buying these trunks today.”

Harry laughed.

Half an hour later they found themselves in a shop that Harry’d only been in a couple of times before when his Aunt Petunia had taken them out shopping to get Dudley a new shirt for an upcoming dinner for Aunt Marge. The branch of Marks & Spencer was the very same shop that Dedalus Diggle had bowed to him right outside of once before Harry’d even known magic existed.
It didn’t take long for them to find what they needed as they didn’t need to try on sizes. He was really grateful that Sirius had thought ahead and had handed Tonks a crisp fifty-pound note before they’d left because Harry had completely forgotten about the need for muggle money. Ten minutes later Harry had a pair of emerald green swimming shorts and a plain white T-shirt in a carrier bag and the pair set off back to headquarters.

“Ugh, I’m just done with this now,” Tracey said, slamming her textbook shut and flinging it to one side, “Flitwick must be lying. This can’t be OWL-level stuff, surely!”

She was sat on Daphne’s four-poster bed, surrounded by scraps of parchment and several spellbooks. She wiped her quill on her robes and placed it alongside her pot of ink on the sky-blue antique bedside table to her right. Daphne was sitting at her dressing table, but she’d already finished ten minutes ago and was busy painting her fingernails.

“I’d tell you what to write, but Flitwick set me an entirely different project. Guess he didn’t want us to copy off each other.” Daphne said, not looking up.

“He’s a crafty old bugger,” Tracey replied with a grin. She took a sip of her pumpkin juice, “Are you sure it’s gonna be okay for me to come to your party?”

“An heir or not, you’re still my best friend, you’re coming. It’s my birthday party.” Daphne replied.

“Your birthday is on the first of September,” Tracey pointed out.

“Yeah, but I never got to have an actual party because of that. We’re always travelling back to school.” It was incredibly frustrating for Daphne in fact and head meant she hadn’t had the chance to have a party since she was ten,

“More than two months early though?”

“It’ll be the height of summer,” Daphne replied, waving her off, “And Father wanted to have it before the Black trial so Harry could come, you know, just in case things went awry and Fudge was somehow able to nail Harry for something. Not that that will happen if things go the same way as the last time.”

“I still can’t believe he’s Lord Slytherin-Potter now,” Tracey said.

“Me neither, but it gives us a good chance to get to know him. I know Mother would never let Father even think about siding with the Dark Lord, and we’re gonna have to pick a side eventually.”

“Hopefully we get a bit more time before he reveals himself, I’m scared what it's gonna be like in the common room when there’s gonna be people whose parents are literal Death Eaters. I’m a half-blood, remember?” Tracey said with a sigh,

“Don’t worry, we’ll stick together,” Daphne said determinedly, she got up from her chair by her dressing table and sat with Tracey on the bed. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Thanks,” said Tracey, laying down on the big double bed, head on one of the plump, silk-covered pillows. Daphne moved further along and lay beside her.

As Tracey looked up at the ornate swirling pattern on the cream ceiling of Daphne’s bedroom, she said, “You know, with Harry being Slytherin-Potter now quite a few people will think he might stand a chance. He’s gonna be even more fanciable. A bit on the slimmer side for me, like, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tried it on with him at your party.”

Daphne sighed and dejectedly replied, “Yeah…”

Tracey turned onto her side to face her friend.

“You like him!” she almost shouted in recognition.

“I barely even know him,” Daphne replied, ”But… Dad would like me to try to.”

“You still fancy him though, don’t you!?” her best friend answered, almost teasingly,

“Well… he’s powerful, and pretty handsome. Yeah, he’s a bit on the skinnier side but his eyes are…”

“Stupidly pretty?”

“Yeah,” she sighed dreamily, “And I loooooove his hair,”

Tracey grinned “You know what you need to do about that then, don’t you?”

“What?” Daphne replied, rolling her eyes. Here Tracey would come with her most ridiculous suggestion.

“Get him on his own and snog him senseless!”

“I don’t even know him!”

“And you can’t snog people just because you think they’re attractive?”

“Tracey…” Daphne said warningly, she knew she was being silly now, wasn’t she?

“What?! You know even Millicent might try to flirt with him if she thinks she could be Lady Slytherin, Death Eater dad or not. I don’t think she cares for her father's ethics. I’d say Pansy too if she ever managed to get the hint that Draco isn’t that interested in her.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it.” Daphne relented.

“That’s all I ask, Tracey said with a grin.” Who else is coming?”

“Blaise, Draco, Pansy and Millicent, as well as Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and… Neville Longbottom” Daphne finished with a grin.

Tracey’s eyes went wide. “Neville’s coming? Holy Crap! Daphne, what will I wear? I’ve never even spoken to him!”

Daphne laughed at her friend's response, “Chill, Trace, we’ll sort something out.”

“You know you’ve invited yourself some real competition there don’t you?” Tracey asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Susan Bones. Light family, Aunt is the head of the DMLE, the only other Heir of Most Ancient and Noble House… and she’s got those big ass titt*es that make all the boys just wanna -”

“Tracey!”

“What!? I’m just saying, she’s gonna be competition, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about giving them a squeeze. They look big even under her robes and she was practically falling out of her dress at the Yule Ball.”

“I didn’t know you swung that way,” Daphne said with a smirk.

“Nah, just curious,” she replied with a laugh, “But seriously, Daph, after he played Fudge like a fiddle last week and ascended to the great Seven… well Harry was already considered one of the most eligible bachelors before that.

“Alright, I get your point.”

“Do you? You know you’re gonna have to pull out all the stops. You can do it.”

“I do,” Daphne sighed, “if not for me and father, but for Astoria too. Mother said if Harry seems to like me as he’s showing himself as neutral, Astoria can get a bit closer to Draco. At least it means she might get a bit of happiness before she-”

Daphne stopped herself, feeling tears starting to well up, but Tracey was already there, wrapping her best friend in a warm hug.”

Arms still wrapped around Daphne, head over her shoulder, Tracey said “She deserves it Daph, but try not to dwell on it. You never know, if Harry can keep it at bay every time who knows what the future holds?”

“I dunno Trace, it gets stronger every time. And what if you’re right, what if Harry picks Susan, or Ginny Weasley or something.”

Tracey pulled back to look her friend in the eyes.

“Well we’ll just have to stack the odds in our favour, won’t we? Come on, we’re going shopping, and you tell your mum to owl Harry to come early so you can get your claws into him.”

Wiping away her tears, Daphne laughed and said, “Way ahead of you.”

Harry opened his eyes to his Godfather standing over his bed. He didn’t know whether Sirius, looked angry, scared or concerned. He was looming over, looking down wildly at him. The moment the roguish animagus knew that Harry had woken up enough to recognise him, he spoke.

“Why do you look so different?” he asked, tone low and even.

“sh*t”, Harry thought. He stretched out and found his feet now touching the bed’s footboard. Inwardly he felt joy at knowing the first of the potions had worked but that emotion was stunted by Sirius’ glare.

“Tonks got me some potions,” Harry replied.

“Show me,” Sirius answered, almost emotionlessly, like Snape.

Harry sat up, pulled open the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out the paper bag of potions Tonks had given him. Sirius pulled out several of the small vials in one hand, which started clinking together as Sirius’ hands started shaking. He stared at them for about ten seconds before he placed the vials back in the bag.

“Harry,” he said calmly, but his voice was just as shaky as his hands had been, “These only work if you are malnourished. Why would be you malnourished?”

Harry felt tears threatening to well up, stinging his eyes, not sure whether it was from the sheer care that Sirius was showing or whether it felt like Sirius’ words had almost been an accusation.

“The Dursleys,” he mumbled.

Sirius Black almost hit the roof. “I am going to f*ckING KILL DUMBLEDORE!!” he shouted and thrust the paper back into Harry’s hands before moving towards the door.

Harry sat bolt upright and shouted, “Wait, Sirius, please!”

A hand still on the door handle, Sirius turned his head to face him, eyes still wild.

“You need to calm down, Padfoot. Going off on one won’t help anything. Tonks is going about it legally. I’m never going to have to go back, and everyone involved will get their comeuppance... You know what happened the last time you lost your temper and went off without thinking.”

The hand dropped from the handle and Sirius numbly walked to his bed. Harry’s Godfather placed his head in his hands and then, he sobbed.

Harry sat there, dumbstruck. He’d never seen a grown man cry before. What should he do? What would Sirius want him to do? He got up from the bed, and while his strides felt very weird with his newly lengthened limbs, he walked over and put an arm around his Godfather.

“If…” Sirius hiccoughed “If I hadn’t lost my temper, you wouldn’t have been with the Dursleys in the first place. I would’ve gone and got you.”

“I know you would,” Harry said quietly, an arm on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I never noticed anything. I guessed you were taking after your mother, she was skinny at your age.”

“Look at me Padfoot,” Harry said, and his godfather did as he asked.

Now, without breaking eye contact, Harry said, “Stop blaming yourself. It’s done now and we’re, we’re fixing the problem.”

“I can’t Harry, I just can’t.”

“Well you want to help me, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“Then stop dwelling in the past and focus on what we can do now.”

Sirius grumbled.

“We can go to the Chamber of Secrets and you help me train to defeat Voldemort. We can portkey there from here, right now?” Harry said, almost like he was suggesting a trip to get ice cream to a seven-year-old.

“You… you mean it?” Sirius said, with wide eyes of excitement, “But Dumbledore-”

“Knows about it and gave permission. Asked me to ask you actually, seemed to think you might recognise the titles of some of the books in case they looked dodgy.”

Sirius nodded, then gave a weak smile and wiped away his tears.

“You need to stop beating yourself up.” Harry said, “Focus on the things you can change.”

“When did you become so wise?” Sirius asked with a laugh,

“When I realised worrying about the things I couldn’t was stupid.”

“I see.”

Sirius stood up and smiled. “Okay, let's do this, I haven't had a good duel in ages. I'll go tell me Molly were not to be disturbed and get kreacher to pack us some food while you get ready.”

“Sure.”

Harry got up and went into the bathroom to take a shower. He looked in the mirror. He’d grown about four inches and…wow, he was now a similar build to what Ron had been at the end of their last year, and his muscles were even a little bit more defined. His mind was full of the possibilities of what he might look like once he’d finished the potions, Harry turned on the shower and stepped in.

A white jet of magic went sizzling past his left ear as Harry strafed to one side. It was their third day of training in the Chamber of Secrets.

For the first day, Sirius had spent most of it talking to the portrait of Slytherin and looking over the texts in the library. He’d needed to make sure he asked the portrait which books were family magic as he would surely have been injured had he tried to pick up any of the confidential tomes.

Sirius had been almost aggressive in his disagreement with Dumbledore. If Sirius was going to train him, he was going to train him to kill, but before they got to that point they needed to work on Harry’s speed and athletics first. This meant that on the second day, they’d spent their time purely on Harry’s reflexes. Sirius spent pretty much an entire day sending a wide array of spells at Harry; spells that appeared in jets he had to dodge, horizontal or vertical waves he had to strafe past or sheets he had to duck under or jump over.

Today though, Harry was allowed to fight back, and they’d been at it for hours. Spells were coming at him thick and fast and Sirius was deliberately trying to use obscure spells so Harry didn’t know which spells could be blocked by what. It meant that the majority of the time if he was going to try to block something, Harry would have to conjure something solid. Sirius said this was important because it would train him to block an Avada Kedavra much more instinctively.

“Come on Harry, you’re gonna have to try harder than that, use your imagination” Sirius called from ahead of him. They were in the main chamber, the room in which Harry had defeated the basilisk. Sirius stood with his back to the great stone sculpture of Salazar Slytherin’s head that had been carved into the rock face. Only the large pool of water the basilisk had once thrashed about when Fawkes had clawed out its eyes was between Sirius and the sculpture. It was this pool that Harry thought to use to his advantage after being thoroughly trounced by Sirius no less than twenty times that day.

Three white spells hit just where his feet had been and sizzled on the stone floor as Harry stepped backwards, casting two stunners followed by a knockback jinx. The first missed, but Harry had anticipated the way Sirius would step, and the spells would’ve hit their target had Sirius not brought up a hasty shield charm followed by a blisteringly fast Incendio that shot towards Harry like a bullet, and went straight into the hem of his robes. He dropped and rolled on the floor to put the flame out, but Sirius pressed the advantage and cast an Expelliarmus at him.

“Protego” Harry shouted and watched his shield blare into life. He turned it solid and the spell ricocheted off and Harry rolled to the side, but how would he get to his feet before Sirius got him with another spell?

He conjured a small rock face to crouch behind but felt it take the magic out of him. With the sheer amount of them he’d conjured today, Sirius had said he’d been more than impressed. With the amount of magic conjuration took, Sirius said that he himself wouldn’t have been able to cast nearly as many of them in one day and praised the depth of Harry’s magical reserves, but now Harry was reaching his limit. This time, the rock wall meant Harry managed to get to his feet out of sight and Sirius wouldn’t know which side he would fire from.

He looked around the right side of the wall and Sirius spotted him. A petrificus totalus then instantly shot straight through where Harry’s head had been had he not pulled it back immediately. Sirius was still standing right in front of the pool. Good.

Blindly, Harry reached his wand around the side of the wall and cast a blasting curse. Its trajectory was always going to be way too far away to hit Sirius but it had the desired effect. If Sirius wanted creativity, he was going to get it. The blasting curse hit the pool and covered his feet and ankle in water. This was it. It was now or never.

Harry dived to the left and rolled, and while still having not got wordless casting down yet, whispered “Impervius.” The spell hit Sirius’ left foot. “Perfect,” Harry thought, the water-repelling charm was nearly invisible and the floor was now absolutely soaking.
He needed to get Sirius to step onto his left foot, so he shot a Bombarda just to the right of him. Sirius moved onto his left foot to strafe but had no purchase on the floor and slipped. Yes!!

From his crouching position, Harry flicked his wand like a lash and cried “Depulso!” It connected straightaway and Sirus went careening into the pool behind him.

“YES!!” Harry cried jumping in the air at his victory,

When Sirius reappeared he was soaked through, but beaming almost madly.

“That was brilliant Harry, how did you do that?” Sirius asked

“Impervius on your shoe,” Harry replied.

“I didn't even feel it hit, and as a spell didn’t even see it. That’s exactly what I’ve been talking about. Amazing creativity.”

“Thanks.”

Then, Sirius got to his feet, dried himself off with a raise of his wand and raised his wand challengingly.

“Best two out of three?”

The day before the party, and two days before the trial, Sirius, Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat in the lounge. They’d just finished talking about Harry’s recent growth for what seemed like the umpteenth time. Hermione just wouldn’t accept that “Family Magic” was the reason for Harry growing ten inches in height and putting on nearly fifty pounds in the space of less than a week. After all, Neville was the Heir to House Longbottom so he would have some family magic too and he didn’t suddenly look like an under-21s rugby player.

In the beginning, at breakfast, Ginny had been unintentionally hilarious to the rest of the Weasleys as it had massively increased her fangirling behaviour, but Harry had just found it annoying. Thankfully when she’d accidentally missed her own mouth staring at Harry across the breakfast table and poured orange juice all down herself, she’d decided to no longer be in Harry’s presence at mealtimes.

“Look Hermione, I’ve told you what I’m willing to tell you.” Harry said, annoyedly, “You need to let it go.”

“Fine.” the bookworm replied begrudgingly.

“Besides, we need to talk about the party,” Sirius said from his cushioned green armchair by the fireplace, “There’s gonna be some eligible witches and wizards there, and there’s gonna be some politicking involved.”

“What does eligibility have to do with anything?” Ron asked.

“Well, Harry is very powerful politically now and the family magic is legendary. I’m willing to guess there will be at least one girl there whose family would like you and their daughter to be placed with you under a betrothal contract.” Sirius replied

Hermione gaped. “What, like Jane Austen? Like selling women off like common cattle? That’s…that’s…that’s barbaric is what it is, it’s completely medieval!”

“It’s tradition, Hermione,” said Ron, “All marriages in the Wizarding World have a contract of some kind.”

“That’s ridiculous.” she huffed, “Guess I won’t be marrying a wizard then.”

“It’s more than just paper, Hermione.” Sirius told her, “Yes there are bride prices and dowries involved, but the monies exchanged are usually of equal amounts, and usually more so that a receipt with Gringotts can be made. It can be done for just one galleon, and that’s the norm. Only in richer families do the marriages involve higher sums, and that’s more for just a status symbol in the papers than anything. Still, most of the time, the sums are about equal. Women aren’t bought any more.”

“So…why do it?” she asked,

“It’s about the magical contract itself, it allows the mingling of family magics. The bride and groom are then able to use each other’s to an extent.”

“I still think it’s ridiculous that there’s all these spells that I’m never going to be allowed to know.” Hermione huffed, folding her arms.

“Nothing’s stopping you from making your own family magics though,” Sirius answered. Hermione’s eyes suddenly glared with excitement. She hadn’t thought about that.

“But Harry has two Houses, does that mean he will get to marry two women?” Ron asked.

Harry’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t thought about that.

“Nah,” Sirius said, “Bigamy is outlawed, as fun as the idea of having two wives might sound to you Ron, historically, it caused issues, so they stopped it. Plus, having two wives. Just one woman is usually a handful on her own!”

“Hey!” cried Hermione, and the boys laughed. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now, if you have an inkling that you may want to enter into a contract with a girl Harry, we’re…” and Sirius swallowed nervously before he continued, “We’re gonna have to have “the Talk”.

“Oh Merlin no, not with Hermione and Ron here!”

“Relax, we’ll do it later.”

The conversation they had in the room last night was distinctively uncomfortable, but Harry thought at least it had come from Sirius. The rogue had definitely given him a fair share of pointers.

Chapter 8: The Party - Part One

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - The Party - Part One

Harry tried to comb his hair flat in the bathroom mirror, but he was having no luck. He’d borrowed one of Sirius’s best sets of robes to attend the party, a midnight blue, almost black set that was faintly pearlescent and shimmered slightly as you walked. Everything was perfect, Tonks had brought Daphne’s gift yesterday, which was exactly as he’d wanted, Sirius had resized his t-shirt and swimming shorts and they fit great. He’d even woken up yesterday and an extremely worrying zit that had popped up last week had disappeared, but right now - Why. Wouldn’t. His. f*cking. Hair. Go DOWN!?

He flung the comb hopelessly into the sink and heard Sirius chuckle behind him.

“You know, your Dad was exactly the same when he got his first Hogsmeade date with your Mum. I swear he almost decided to shave the whole thing off if Moony hadn’t told him it would make him look like speccy egg.”

Harry snorted, Sirius always had a knack for putting him at ease.

“You look fine, Harry. Daphne’s not gonna know what hit her.” he’d said.

On Sirius’ advice, Harry only had a light breakfast, as swimming while completely stuffed apparently wasn’t the best idea. Twenty minutes later, he was standing in front of the fireplace, waiting for it to hit ten o’clock, jittery with nerves. Sirius was sitting in his usual armchair, just smirking at Harry pacing back and forth while he read the day’s Daily Prophet.

“Oh God, Sirius, what if I f*ck this up?” Harry said, quickly messing up whatever progress he’d to make on his hair.

“What if you don’t?” Sirius replied with a grin, not looking up from the paper.

Harry nodded to himself as he paced. Yeah, he could do this. It was only a girl, a really cute girl. No, a beautiful, independent, smart girl with a good family who could help him take his place in society and bring honour to his parents’ and the House of Slytherin’s legacies. f*ck.

“Look, you’re getting that early, you’re going to get a chance to talk before anyone else even gets there. It’ll give you a kind of dominance already when they turn up and you’re already there, especially to the ones who turn up bang on eleven thirty and noticed you were invited to be there beforehand. Don’t stress, if you can handle Fudge, you can handle this. Easy.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, trying to let Sirius’ pep talk have more impact than it had.

Sirius placed the newspaper down on his lap. “Got everything? Trunks? Shirt? Present?” he asked,

“Yeah,” Harry answered with a shaky exhale.

The clock on the mantelpiece started to chime. It was ten a.m.

“Off you go then, have a good time, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Sirius said with a smirk. Harry rolled his eyes, took a handful of Floo powder from the little ceramic pot and stepped into the fireplace.

“Bye then,” Harry said with a nervous smile. He threw the powder into the fireplace and when the flames flashed into a brilliant green, he stepped into them.

“The Greenest of Grass,” he said.

*Whoosh*

Unfortunately, this time Harry didn’t manage to keep his balance on his exit from the fireplace at Greengrass Manor. Instead went hurtling across a cream marble floor and when he skidded to a sudden stop, all he could see was a pair of pink high heels planted at the base of a pale green fabric armchair. Then, the voice attached to those heels giggled.

“I bet you’re glad no one else saw that,” Astoria said.

Harry looked up to see the youngest Greengrass sitting in front of a chessboard, wearing a set of pale pink robes and a smirk. Harry scrambled to his feet quickly and had just about managed to straighten his robes when a voice came from his right.

“What did you say, Tori?” the voice said, it was a woman’s and was quickly followed by its owner. She was a willowy, very pretty woman with mid-length straight, chestnut-brown hair and bright, piercing blue eyes. She wore a light grey summer dress and heels that made her legs look like they went on and on and Harry could definitely tell where Daphne got her looks from.

“Ah, Lord Slytherin-Potter, thank you so much for coming, I’m Ellanore.” She gave a small curtsy after speaking and looked quickly over Astoria, who, getting the hint, got up from her seat and did the same.

“Daphne, Cyrus dear, Lord Slytherin-Potter is here,” she called to the room where she’d just been. Several seconds later Harry heard two pairs of footsteps approaching and they arrived quickly, one after the other. Cyrus, the blonde, moustached man came first and wore very formal black robes similar to the ones Harry’d seen him wear at the Ministry.

Daphne looked as unbelievable as ever, in pale lilac robes and purple Converse trainers. Her hair had been loosely curled to perfection and fell slightly higher than normal, hitting just above the curvature of her chest. It was surreal, seeing her standing there in front of him again as he traced the way her slender neck led up to her soft but pointed jawline and small delicate ears. She watched him with a look he’d never seen her use before and the way her incredible eyes felt like they were piercing right through him…It was intoxicating, Harry had to stop himself from staring and forced himself to bring his back to the whole group where he took in their happy, welcoming expressions.

“Hello everyone,” Harry said, “Thank you so much for inviting me.,this place is lovely.”

And it was. The reception area in which Harry had landed was beautiful. Cream, marble floors were accented by mint green curtained windows, doors and skirting boards. A long, sweeping half-spiral staircase was finished with a polished metal balustrade that displayed a beautiful intricate swirling pattern and led up to a mystery of rooms beyond. Delicate pale-brown antique furniture was dotted around the room and held an array of vases, bowls and flowers.

“We’re glad you think so, Lord Slytherin-Potter,” Cyrus replied. He bowed then as Daphne curtsied.

Then, Harry bowed back to Cyrus.

“You don’t need to do that,” Cyrus said, holding his hand up, “You’re Great Seven, you’re higher than us.”

“No, Lord Greengrass. I do. At least this first time while we’re alone. While I may technically be higher in terms of hierarchy, I bow to your experience. You’ve got years in the game, you’re known as someone trustworthy, yet not to be trifled with and you’ve raised a lovely and well-respected family. I’ve got a lot to learn from you.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Lord Greengrass replied with a smile.

“Call me Harry, everyone.”

“Then call my wife and me by our first names as well: Cyrus and Ellanore. I believe you’re already on first-name terms with Daphne and Astoria.”

“I am,” Harry replied smiling at Daphne. For the first time that day, their eyes met and both of them immediately tried to play down the tingling feeling that grew in the pit of their stomachs.

“Shall, we retire to the kitchen?” Ellanore suggested with a twinkle in her eye. They all quickly assented and Harry followed them into a large well well-kept magical kitchen complete with a tiled floor and dark grey granite worktops. Along one wall was a large glass French double door, and in the centre stood an island unit that was a solid block of the same dark granite and surrounded six tall metal and black leather stools. As they approached, Ellanore sat down first and the rest swiftly followed suit. She waved her wand and five tall glasses smoothly floated down onto the unit from some nearby shelves, followed by a large glass pitcher of ice-cold lemonade, which started pouring its contents into the glasses one by one. Cyrus passed everyone a glass of the pale yellow liquid and Harry took a sip. It was delicious and sweet but very tart.

“First of all, Harry,” the eldest Greengrass said, “Like I said in my letter I wanted to invite you here early to properly thank you in person for what you did in the hospital wing at the end of the last term at Hogwarts. Safe to say we weren’t exactly happy with Astoria discussing the family curse with you, but I trust you of all people will know the value of keeping secrets.”

“I do. And don’t worry about it, I’m just glad I was there.” Harry replied. He dreaded to think of what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been,

“Us as well. I was very impressed to hear my husband's account of what happened in the Wizengamot, Harry. I hear you handled yourself very well. Do you have any other surprises planned for the session tomorrow?”

“Ohhhhhh yes.” Harry replied with a devious grin that made Astoria look at Daphne in amusem*nt, “Safe to say I won’t have any problems, but I’ll keep my cards close to my chest for now, wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

“Very well,” Cyrus said with an amused smirk of empathy around how he had felt in days before one of his won plans had come to fruition, “But if there’s anything we can help with, just ask, life debt or not.”

“Thanks for that, by the way,” Daphne said, with a gracious but neutral expression. She was trying to keep her proper mask on. At least now in front of her father, she would play the part of a dutiful daughter.

“You’re very welcome,” Harry replied, meeting her gaze but then finding it difficult when trying not to stare at her eyes for too long.

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t still owe you,” Cyrus said, matter-of-factly. Harry was glad for the distraction.

“No, you don’t.” Harry answered, now looking at Cyrus with a very serious expression to try and show him that he meant every word, “I only did what any other good person would’ve done.”

“Thank you,” Cyrus said, allowing himself a genuine smile.

“Harry, did you bring trunks?” Astoria asked excitedly, “It’s a pool party, remember?”

“I did indeed,” Harry replied, patting his pocket, “They’re shrunk.”

“Oh dear,” Ellanore replied with a smirk, “I hope you won’t have too much on show,”

Everyone laughed. Astoria cackled a little too madly, in fact, but it was nice to see her in such high spirits and everyone there found it heartwarming to see it.

“You’ve got quite a bit of time until the rest of the guests start arriving, why don’t you and Daphne go for a walk? Maybe go and visit the Leucrottas?”

Harry had no idea what a Leucrotta was but Daphne said “Yes, Father”, so getting the hint that the family conversation was over he got to his feet as she did and followed her back into their reception, out the front door and then into the grounds.

“Wow, it’s pretty warm out here, you picked a great day for it,” Harry said as they stepped out onto a gravel path. Pretty warm was a bit of an understatement; it was absolutely baking hot outside, and Harry was grateful for the cooling charm that Sirius had cast in anticipation of the day’s weather. After all, they hadn’t known when he’d be expected to change into their muggle wear, or if they were expected to arrive in wizard clothes, but Harry didn’t think it would be a great idea to meet with Cyrus Greengrass for the first time outside the Wizengamot in only a t-shirt, flip-flops and shorts.

“We did indeed,” Daphne answered leading him onto a gravel path that took them to the precipice of a large, gentle hill to the left. At the bottom, a little ways away from them stood a small wooden barn.

They walked in silence for a minute, Harry feeling incredibly awkward, not knowing what the hell to say, all the while a question was burning in Daphne’s mind. Crunch, crunch, crunch, went the sound of the gravel path under their feet. Daphne felt the sun beaming down on her, glancing at Harry’s beautiful robes out of the corner of her eye, but still, he didn’t talk. Well, what did she expect him to say? She wasn’t being a paragon of conversation herself, but still, the question loomed over her.

Crunch.

When was he gonna tell her?

Crunch.

Was he gonna tell her?

Crunch.

Oh, Merlin, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why have you suddenly gotten…bigger?” she asked, nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a painfully obvious question.

“Ah yes, that. I’m surprised you’re parents didn't ask to be honest,” said Harry, “I had…a growth spurt.”

She snorted, “A growth spurt? Well, you had a pretty big one.”

“Family business,” he replied.

Damn, she had wondered, but she wasn’t complaining about the change. Not one bit. She’d already found him attractive before but when she’d walked in to greet him in their atrium earlier her chest felt like it had nearly done a backflip. His shoulders looked so broad, his jawline had somehow got more defined and now he just held himself with so much more confidence.

“Fair enough, I won’t pry.”

“You can a bit, but just…not about that.”

“Okay?” Daphne asked. What did she expect him to ask her? They’d gotten off the path now and had stepped onto freshly cut grass.

Harry was amazed that he could see for miles. Off in the distance, he could see a small village to one side, and to the other was a thick area of deciduous woodland that went up the valley side so far and over the horizon that it looked like it went on forever. As idyllic as the scenery was he felt distinctly aware that they weren’t talking. What should he say? He couldn’t spend the entire time not talking to her, but she made him feel so nervous. Did she not know how mind-numbingly beautiful she was? “Oh sod it,” he thought, “Better say something.”

“What I mean is… I mean that I want to get to know you and…I would…I mean you and your family seem really nice and…even if I didn’t think you were pretty, you know, …you’re also really smart and - “

So he did fancy her then, he’d all but confirmed it to her just then, but did she want to get involved with him? As hot as she found him, he was Harry Potter. No, scratch that, Harry Slytherin-Potter now, he was bound to have girls lining up to bed him.

“So’s Granger,” Daphne replied, looking up at him. Might as well get this question out of the way, she thought.

“Oh she is,” Harry replied. “But I’ve never thought about her that way. Never thought about any girls in that way before, to be honest.”

“What way?” Daphne asked with a smirk. Harry groaned inwardly as she put him on the spot, but no, wasn’t being this nervous a kind of weakness? He wouldn’t abide it. There was no way she would be attracted to nervous Harry. Mentally, he slapped himself. “Relax, Potter.”

“I’d like to get to know you, like I said. Not like “officially”, I’m not fishing for a contract or anything, but… look…”

He stopped on the spot, and she turned to look at him. Why did the wind have to ruffle his adorable hair like that? How was she meant to concentrate on thinking properly about this?

Harry on the other hand was in a similar position, his stomach floating as he smelled the aroma of Daphne’s signature perfume that he’d first smelled properly in the library.

“Like I said I'd like to get to know you. Not officially, I'm not fishing for a contract or anything, but… look. I can see the love your family seems to have for each other, even at first glance. Love in your heart for family shows me you're a good person, and I know you don't fall for any of that blood purity nonsense. I'd just…it would be cool to know you more, at least as friends.”

Daphne was struggling now to keep her well-schooled, neutral facial expression from turning into a frown. She needed to keep control of her emotions, but she couldn’t deny she was a little disappointed. She wasn’t going to try to connect with him, to consider opening up to him as a potential boyfriend if he didn’t want to do the same.

“Just as friends? With no opportunity for more?” she asked.

“Not if you didn't want that” Harry replied.

She smiled and said “Good answer.” It was the best thing he could’ve said if she was honest. He was showing her that was he a boy who wouldn’t try to push her into anything.

They started walking again, the light breeze nearly disappearing now.

“How are you Lord Slytherin, by the way? I checked the family tree, you’re not related to Slytherin by blood, your tree never goes anywhere near.”

.

“I can't tell you, even if you accidentally let it slip, it might be dangerous.”

She was the one who stopped first this time, and she whipped out her wand.

“I, Daphne Selene Greengrass, swear on my life and magic that I will never reveal any secrets that Harry James Slytherin-Potter reveals to me today. So mote it be!”

The light from her wand that had glowed from her wand flashed with the vow’s completion. Harry was stunned.

“Wow,” Harry said quietly, “Daphne you didn’t need to do that.”

“What can I say?” Daphne replied with a cheeky grin as she started them off both walking again; they were nearly there now, “I’m just curious!”

“I thought you couldn’t do magic outside of school,” Harry said.

“You can if you're within wards like we have here, the Ministry can't access the Trace.”

“Cool, I wonder if where I'm living I can do that too-”

.

“Oh Merlin just tell me already!” she blurted out.

“Alright, Little Miss Impatient,” Harry replied with a grin, “I had my ascension…in the Chamber of Secrets.”

Daphne’s entrancing eye shot wider in recognition. “So you were the heir of Slytherin!”

“Not quite”

“I don't understand.”

They’d gotten to the barn now. Harry had thought it was a barn anyway, but once Daphne had led them through a small open door to the side, Harry realised it was instead a large stable, separated into eight different stalls. Two were empty of any animals and were filled with various bags of animal food and tools for looking after. They walked in a little further in and Harry was still working on where to start his explanation when he finally found out what a Leucrotta was. At first glance, he thought it looked like somewhere between a moose and a deer, but then its antlers were much bigger than any deer he’d ever seen; and its mouth, its mouth was huge. He was sure if it tried it could swallow him in one who. What’s more, there were six of the things! He had to admit though, that with their overblown facial features, they were adorable to look at.

Daphne showed him the right way to pet them and they were strolling back towards the other end of the barn to fetch a large, shovel-like utensil with which to feed them when Harry finally figured out where to start. He decided to tell her pretty much everything about their second year at Hogwarts, from his perspective anyway. Of course, he didn’t say anything about Ginny’s involvement and only briefly skipped over the description of how the diary had worked, but he told her how he’d been hearing whispers in the walls, his trip into the forbidden forest with Ron, and how Hermione had been petrified but somehow still managed to work out that the creature was a basilisk. She hadn’t been surprised by the big reveal that Lockhart was a fraud and told him that she’d been winding Tracey up all year that year about the ridiculous crush her friend had had on him from their very first lesson. It was difficult for Harry to tell when Daphne was more shocked though, when he told her about how the entrance to the Chamber was in Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom or when the shade that came from the Diary revealed himself as Lord Voldemort.

“So what did you do then?” Daphne asked, clutching onto one of the metal bars of the stable, on tenterhooks. Harry was a wonderful storyteller.

“Well, he called for the basilisk and it came slithering out of the mouth of this great big sculpture of Salazar Slytherin’s head. He told me Dumbledore had been driven from the castle by the mere memory of him and I just said that Dumbledore would never be gone while those that remain were loyal to him. Later on, Dumbledore told me it was this display of loyalty for him that meant Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix turned up carrying the Sorting Hat.

“What, his phoenix? Out of nowhere? And what could the Sorting Hat do, bore it to death with another overly long poem?”

Harry chuckled at her joke, but continued,

“Yep, I literally thought I was done for when Fawkes flew in and pecked the Basilisk’s eyes out, which was amazing because it meant I could now look at the damn thing without getting instantly killed. And then, somehow from the sorting hat I pulled the sword of Godric Gryffindor.”

Daphne laughed and with an eye-roll, she said, “Of course you did, Gryffindor Golden Boy. Go on.”

“Anyway, I spent most of my time running away from it, it could still smell and hear me, see? But it cornered me against the sculpture of Slytherin. I found myself climbing madly up it a second later trying to get away from its fangs and I somehow managed to get to the top without getting eaten. The problem was, then I had nowhere to go. It went to bite me and with its mouth open I stabbed upwards through its mouth and into its brain and it died. I clambered back down the statue but it was really hard work because it had left a great big dirty fang in my arm.”

“What?” Daphne spluttered, “How?! How are you not dead?”

“Fawkes cried into the wound and healed me. Phoenix tears have healing powers. It took a few days for me to feel better completely but it allowed me to come around enough to take the fang, stab the diary with it and the shade-thing just died.”

“So… do you have a scar?”

“Oh yeah, here” Harry replied, and stepping towards where she leaned against the railing he uncovered the scar on his arm to show her.

“That is ridiculously cool,” she said, cupping the underside of his forearm with one hand while gentling tracing the outline of where the fang had entered him with another.

“Thanks,” Harry said with a smile. He looked at her, and she at him and they suddenly realised how intimate their position was. Nervously Daphne dropped his arm and they both quickly stepped away from each other.

“So…” Harry continued, in an effort to move on from that moment and sheepishly reaching up and scratching the back of his head, “Without revealing too much, this year after Voldemort nearly killed me at the end the of tournament I was thinking about things that could give me an edge next and wondered if Voldemort had found or left anything down there the first time. I found a Chamber within the chamber, met the portrait of Slytherin and he named me Slytherin, he had worked some magic into his portrait to give him the ability to name whoever he liked as he had no heirs. Turns out the basilisk wasn't to hurt muggleborns, but a guard to protect his library and heirloom.”

“Wait…he wasn’t against muggleborns?”

“Nope just wanted them all away from their families in those times because so many were getting hunted down for witchcraft.”

“Wow,” Daphne said, stunned into sitting down on a hay bale. “That changes everything we know about his history.

“I’d prefer to keep it a secret for now. Keeps the mystery about me alive, you know, am I secretly evil and/or all-powerful.”

“Ha, well I appreciate you telling me,” Daphne replied. “I feel like I should tell you something now.”

Harry sat down next to her on the bale of hay, “You don’t need to,” he said.

“I want to though, you’ve just revealed so much and told me a story that was like... I don’t know you how aren’t a babbling nutcase after going through something like that.”

“Okay, so tell me something about you,” Harry suggested with a smile. He sat right next to her, looking into her eyes, noticing how long her eyelashes were. She wasn’t even wearing makeup!

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Daphne replied. What could she say? What should she say? She didn't have any stories like that. He’d defeated a basilisk, he was…intimidating. Not in a scary way, but in a way that made her heart race. Internally she berated herself. A boy had never made her feel like this before.

“Hmm, why don’t we ask three questions each and we both try to answer them if we can.”

“Okay,” Daphne replied with a captivating, eye-reaching smile, “Why don’t you go first?”

“Erm…How do you feel about Draco Malfoy?”

“Well…” she started, looking at the floor, trying to gather her opinion, “He’s a bit of a bigoted dickhe*d, but Astoria likes him. She says she sees a softer side of him or something.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it too, to be honest. He’s really quite gentle with her, and from what Astoria says it doesn’t seem like he a hundred percent agrees with his father’s ideas and maybe just parrots them for his approval.”

“Daddy issues, not surprised, but that’s interesting. I’ll be honest I’ve only just started thinking about the reasons why people behave the way they do, I just sorta took them at face value. I agree though, he’s a smarmy git.”

As she showed him how they mixed a special type of antler-growing nutrient into the Leucrotta’s water, Harry told her briefly about when he’d met Draco in Madam Malkins followed by their interaction on the train when Goyle got bit on the finger by Scabbers.

“What, so you might’ve been in Slytherin if Draco hadn’t completely put you off us?”

“Yep, the Hat offered me to go there and everything.”

“That’s mental, Tracey’s never gonna believe it…okay, it's my turn…errrrrm…What was your life like before you came to Hogwarts?”

Harry’s breath hitched. He should’ve been ready for that question.

“I was raised by my aunt and uncle who were muggles,” he said. “They didn’t like magic.”

“Oh, I thought Dumbledore placed you in a magical family or something.”

“Nope.”

“So what were they like? Your aunt and uncle I mean.”

“Not nice..”Harry trailed off looking down self-consciously, “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“That’s okay,” Daphne said, frowning at first but schooling her expression into an encouraging smile. It was a sensitive subject and while her mind raced at the implications, she knew it would be stupid not to drop it right now.

“What about you?” Harry said, “Your family seems lovely.”

“They are,” Daphne said, pouring a large bucket of the freshly mixed nutrient into a large stone trough, “I had a lot of resentment growing up because I had to have a lot of tutoring on being an Heir and the Greengrass position in the world and how I had to act the perfect picture of this Pureblood Princess at all times.”

“That must’ve felt really trapping, like you couldn't be who you were.”

“Kind of. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to do my family honour and everything, and we all love each other but at the same time, I always knew it was highly likely I’d be forced into an arranged marriage with some Lord who wouldn’t let me be my own person and expect me to stay at home, look pretty and pump out babies. And trust me, that’s the vast majority of Purebloods these days.”

“I can’t believe someone would do that to someone, why would anyone think they can control what their wife should do with their life? Isn’t it mean to be a partnership?”

Daphne looked at him, gauging him. “So you wouldn’t wanna do that? Just parade your beautiful wife around on your arm at parties? Just have her be a trophy?”

“Nah,” Harry said, waving her off like she was being ridiculous, “I’d like to be proud of my wife for what she does not what she looks like. Can’t she be a trophy because she’s accomplished at what she does for her career? If she’d beautiful it's just a bonus.”

“She can,” Daphne said, then exhaled heavily and smiled, subconsciously twirling a ringlet of hair in her fingers. Her neutral mask was quickly becoming a thing of the past, and she didn’t care.

Harry looked into her ice-blue doe- eyes, his heart pounding. He took in the flawlessness of her skin, her full lips and the delicateness of her manicured finger as it threaded through her golden hair. They both got lost for a second before Daphne spoke again.

“Okay, I’ve got a question,” she said, and then almost thinking better of it, said quietly. “Do you think you can beat him?”

She was impressed by the way he wasn’t fazed by the question and replied immediately.

“I’m not sure, but I’m going to try. Dumbledore thinks the reason I survived when I was one was because of the intrinsic magic of my mother's love when she sacrificed herself, seems to think love is the antithesis of Voldemort’s hate. I don’t think it will be as cut and dry as dying for my loved ones though. I’m training as hard as I can and in the end, when I fight him I will have something Voldemort will never have - love. Something to fight for.

“Love? Are you seeing anyone?” Daphne asked. Almost knowing it was a stupid question but at the moment she really didn’t like the fact that for the first time in her life, a completely unfamiliar pang of jealousy had welled up inside her.

“No, not yet. For now, it’s the love of my friends and the Weasley family, the home I’ve found in the Wizarding World when things weren’t that great with my muggle relatives. The Weasleys adopted me, and they’ve been wonderful to me. I just wish I had a family of my own. You know I haven’t had a hug from a family member since I was one? Hell, my first hug was from Hermione of all people.”

“What, when you were eleven? Goodness.” Daphne looked sadly at him, and Harry was inwardly beating himself up for taking the conversation in that direction. Way to ruin the happy mood, Potter.

“You know,” Daphne said, putting a hand on his arm.”I don’t know how you aren’t just full of so much hatred for the world, especially now with what the Ministry is saying.”

“It’s just Fudge, he’s too scared,” Harry replied. It wasn’t like he didn't understand why, as unlikeable as Fudge was. Voldemort was terrifying.

“Can you blame him? His wife was murdered by Death Eaters in the last war.”

“I didn’t know that,” Harry replied in surprise. It certainly put into perspective why Fudge had been acting the way that he had.

Daphne came to a decision. “Right, stand up, Harry,” she said, getting to her feet again.

“Okayyy?” Harry sounded but did as he asked. She stepped closer to him, looking him in the face with a demure smile, all the while trying to ignore the butterflies.

“Look, for everything you've been through, and for how much you've helped with Astoria, I -”

And then she took another step closer and wrapped her arms around his waist in a soft and warm embrace. She came up to just below Harry's chin and the moment he realised that the amazing perfume she'd been wearing must've just been her shampoo he instinctively brought his arms around her shoulders. Her body felt amazing against him. Even though he wished their robes weren't getting in the way, he could still faintly feel the shape of her. He couldn't help but wonder what it must've been like for Daphne growing up, no wonder she'd developed the reputation she'd had. All her life she'd had to be a picture of perfection, and while he loved the visually pleasing part of her of course he was amazed by the way that she hadn't lost herself and become incredibly twisted and bitter at the constant thought of what she must’ve seen as her inevitable fate. Somehow, underneath she'd kept that kind and loving part of her and hadn't descended into a cold, heartless bitch, at least to those who took the time to get to know her. She was a pure soul. It was present in the way she tended to the animals, the way she affectionately stroked the chin of her favourite Leucrotta, Alan and still giggled at the stupid name she'd given him even though she'd had him since she was ten.

Daphne could've almost shuddered with the way his strong arms felt around her as she lay the side of her head on his chest. It was almost overwhelming just thinking about him now, about the things he's told just her, about the way he'd just walked over and offered help to her and Tracey in the library with no ulterior motive at all, and about the way he'd worked so damn hard to keep Astoria alive that he'd lost consciousness that day. Would she have been mad if he had claimed her as compensation for the life debt? Now she wasn't so sure.

She wanted to stay there forever, but the little voice in her head said it wouldn't be right and so she started she pulled away. But then, she felt strangely empty, without him there now, and he must’ve felt the same because they still loosely kept arms around each other. And they stood there for a minute, just holding each other, but each far too nervous to have any sort of prologue look at each other.

“Harry, if…” she started again, daring to look up at him now “When what happened with Astoria happens again, will you come back and help with the ropes? They just get stronger every time and…we need your help.”

The look in his eyes as they met hers turned from kind to determined in a second.

“I'll be there, Daph,” he said quietly.

‘Daph?” she replied at the nickname, tilting her head sideways.

“You don't like it? Sorry,”

“Only Tracey and Astoria call me that, but you can I guess, I kinda like it.”

“Okay…” Harry replied. The conversation had seemed to come to a natural stop. What did he say next, should he complement her or something?

“You er.…you look really nice today.” In his head, he slapped himself once more for that one.

“Thanks, I'm not actually ready yet. My hair is as you can tell but Tracey begged me to come over early so she could do my make-up and choose my dress. Major control freak.”

“She seems lovely though.”

“She is.”

“Oh, and I should give you this. Happy very early 16th birthday.”

He released one arm from around her shoulder and pulled a small red, carefully wrapped box from his pocket, about the size of a large envelope.

“Harry, you didn't need to,” Daphne replied, gently taking the present.

“I wanted to, but please don't open it right now. I've never gotten a girl a present before. There's a little letter inside telling you what it is.”

“Okay, well…thank you,” she said beaming up at him, looking into his impossibly green eyes, and then down to his lips.

Should she?

She thought maybe she should

.

She leaned closer and Harry's eyes went wider. Heart thumping, he reached the arm back around her, his hand just touched the small of her back before -

“Daphne!” Ellanore's voice called via what must've been a sonorous charm, “Tracey’s here!”

Both of them let out a large sigh as the tension dissipated before bursting out into laughter.

Daphne thought he looked ever so cute when he blushed like that.

“Come on,” she said, standing now with a more regretful sigh at what they'd just missed out on, she started leading him back towards the doorway “You can have a chat with Dad or something.”

Harry marvelled at how tiny Daphne’s hand felt in his as she led him back up to the main house.

Chapter 9: The Party - Part Two

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - The Party - Part Two

As they got a bit closer to the windows, Daphne released Harry's hand, for fear of her Dad thinking she was taking things a bit fast, but it turned out that Cyrus had left the property. Ellanore told them that Tracey was already up in Daphne's bedroom, so Daphne went up to join her to finish getting ready, while Ellanore invited Harry back into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

“So, Cyrus has left then,” Harry said as the attractive Lady Greengrass poured him a mug of the steaming brown liquid, “I hope everything’s alright.”

“Oh yes, he said he just wanted to go and check our stocks, but between you and me I think he just made himself scarce so he wouldn’t have to see his daughters frolicking about in their bikinis with boys he didn’t know,” Ellanore replied with an amused smile.

Harry looked into his coffee and took a sip. He stared into it for a moment. As lovely as Ellanore seemed, he didn’t know what to say to her. It was a bit awkward. Should he probe around any common interests? Should he gush about Daphne and how she made him both enticed with how smart and passionate she was and simultaneously made him want to rip her clothes off and do a variety of things to her that he'd either read in textbooks or that the guys had bantered about in the common room? Yeah, that was a bad idea. He was at a loss. Luckily, Ellanore spoke up first.

“I just wanted to say thank you again for your help with Astoria, Harry,” she said, stirring her drink.

“You don’t need to keep thanking me,” Harry answered, trying to show her he meant it.

“I don’t feel like I can ever stop thanking you,” she replied with a happy chuckle. “Not just for saving her life but for removing the life debt. Astoria told me she’d even explained to you that we would’ve had no choice but to give you Daphne’s hand in marriage had you asked for it. When we’d first found out how you saved Astoria's life, we thought that a request for marriage was exactly what was going to happen. After all, we’ve heard a lot about the kind of attention some of the boys have been giving her in school. I know my daughter is beautiful, but from what I’ve heard the boys in your year would think you a bit mad for not asking for Daphne’s hand.”

“Oh they definitely would, and she is beautiful, and she seems so driven and smart. I just don’t agree with it, forcing two people to wed” Harry said, taking a sugar cube and dropping it into his cup, “Arranged marriages in the muggle world are something we read of in history books about times more than a century ago when women were essentially sold off like cattle.”

“That’s exactly what Daphne thinks about the whole thing but Cyrus and I had an arranged marriage and we grew to love each other.”

“Ah, but are you the exception, or the rule?” Harry challenged.

Ellanore took a sip of her coffee and frowned in thought before continuing.

“I guess we are the exception,” she said, “I’m very lucky in that regard. A bit of advice, though, I'd be careful about who you advise about what traditions you're against. Your last display at the Wizengamot has placed you firmly in with our grey, middle-ground peers. If you talk too openly about what you don’t like, people may think you are more light-sided, pushing for change with no real thought. It’s up to you though, of course.”

“Oh..kayyy,” Harry said, stretching the word while he thought, “Thank you for your advice. So if I did want to discuss traditions with people of your faction or on the more traditionalist side, I’m guessing I'd need to demonstrate understanding of any practice and only suggest a change if I could show I’d given the change enough thought on any impacts. A lot more work, but a lot more pragmatic.”

“Exactly,” she replied. They both knew he needed no real acknowledgement there, he was just using her as a sounding, but she was happy to help.

“So, just as a thought exercise, arranged marriages are less about money and more about forging beneficial alliances through family magic, right? What if there were a way to let the spouses keep that without the exchange of gold while letting witches and wizards who aren’t within the Wizengamot to also merge their family magics they might’ve created? There’s never been any new families in the Wizengamot, and as horrible as it sounds, if by some cataclysmic event it happened, there should be a way to create more.”

“It doesn’t solve the problem of the feeling of being sold off like cattle, such a change would mean marriages would likely still be arranged to occur between Houses with strong family magic, like the Wizengamot, but it would preserve the integrity of the Wizegamot itself. While we’re talking about it, I might as well explain how it works. When the two families make a contract and agree on a quantity of gold to be transferred, on an agreed date in the days before the wedding the agreed amount is transferred between the families’ vaults and passes beneath seals at every Gringotts entrance. Members of the same family have the same seal. Any time gold passes a vault door its seal creates a kind of magic signature that the Goblins capture, interpret and bind into the seal of receipt that they add to their documentation. It’s the reason why we no know now that Sirius Black never had a trial, thanks to you. The presence of these two seals is an essential part of how the contract works. At the wedding, the bride and groom each touch their wands to their family’s seal on the contract before the ceremony and when they make their vow at the altar the magic of the contract merges the two seals as one. The magic that takes place in the ceremony recognises the two individuals within their families have come together. It's this which allows the other family to get past the “locks” on certain family tomes and to cast spells that magic requires a House member’s correct magical signature to cast, with magic now recognising the new spouse as part of the family.”

“I see, thank you for explaining that to me.”

“No problem, I can see why many would be against changing it. It’s something that generations will have used and has been proven to work. I’m guessing I’d have to somehow come up with an even better way to change it and fully assess any issues before even thinking to suggest. Ugh, there’s so much I don’t know.”

“Well, we’re always happy to help, life debt or not. We do still owe you though, no matter what you say. Daphne was very pleased, she’s been dreading having a betrothal contract and an arranged marriage all her life, and while it’s unfortunately inevitable, we’re glad that you declining the life debt meant we’d have more time to figure out the best options for her.”

Harry felt a ball of disappointment sink in him like a lead balloon. Did that mean they’d ruled him out, then? He had no choice but to ask.

“And what if I wanted to, er - court Daphne? Would that be okay?”

Ellanore looked at him appraisingly now, the same ice-blue eyes as Daphne, studying him. She finished the last of her coffee before speaking.

“Harry, from what I’ve heard about you, not in the “Prophet” mind, you’re growing up to be a very respectable wizard. I know Fudge is full of it, and that the Dark Lord has returned, but if you continue to show the same level of thought and respect as you have to our ideals as you have been then Cyrus and I wouldn’t be opposed to you dating Daphne, though it’s her choice of course.”

“Er…thank you.” he said, not able to keep the blooming off his face.”

“Now, I want you to behave today as if you have no care in the world. When, not if, word gets back to the Dark Lord via Draco, we’ll say to the Malfoys that the Greengrasses aren't naive and they know that if they were to choose a side, Daphne potentially being able to get information may be valuable.”

Harry hadn’t thought about that. Were the Greengrasses under pressure to join the Dark Lord? Would they join him? Was this a bad idea?

Ellanore saw the look of worry on Harry’s face and quickly jumped in to stop it.

“We're not mind you, ever, going to join him, but the neutral image is something we need to maintain until Death Eaters come calling. This time we will have to put our eggs in your side’s basket, even if it might put us in danger. I'll be damned if my family is going to follow a man who goes around murdering innocent folk for no good reason.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

“I understand, I won’t lie you had me in a bit of a panic there. I know some of the people I live with had some…let’s say had some not-so-nice things to say about me coming here.”

Ellanore waved her hand at him, brushing him off and picking up their mugs she walked across the kitchen to place them in the nearby sink.

“Bah,” she said, “The light side is just pissed because they want to fight without killing and don't like how we don't automatically vote “yes” on their proposals, and so because they think not voting yes to those ill-conceived changes is immoral, they brand us as dark sometimes. The clever ones know better, like Augusta Longbottom of course, but unfortunately, there isn’t a great deal of critical thinking in the Wizarding World.”

“I see,” Harry said.

“Now, why don't you go and get changed, have you got a T-shirt as well as swimming shorts?”

“Yeah.”

“I imagine Daphne will be back down soon enough, though she can be awful at getting ready for things on time. There's a bathroom just behind me to the left, once you're done just relax on the patio, the table is set for snacks and drinks so just grab what you like. We've got you all set for the whole night, don't tell Daphne but Cyrus organised a couple of fireworks for later”

“Thanks. Will do.” Harry replied with a grin and went off to get changed.

“What, so let me get this straight, you won't tell me anything he told you because you made a vow to gain his trust, but your conversation was enough for you to actually try and kiss the guy? When have you ever done that?!”

Daphne had been in her bedroom for nearly twenty-five minutes now and she was nearly ready. With a cute little black dress on that wasn't too revealing up top but showed a good amount of leg, she was currently sitting at her dressing table, painstakingly applying her makeup while her best friend Tracey, who was decked out in a blue and white flowery summer dress, was busy spelling various ribbons to tie up her hair.

“Never, Trace,” Daphne admitted, “I haven't kissed anyone since the Yule Ball, but I wish you could know some of the things he told me, some of the things he's done and…He said he would want his wife to actually be her own person and then he also showed me some actual vulnerability. What guy does that? And then, when I hugged him to say thank you for saving Astoria, having his strong arms wrapped around me it just felt so -”

“Wait, strong arms? This is Harry we’re talking about, yeah?”

“Hohhh yeah,” Daphne said, with a sound that let Tracey know she had no idea of what she'd seen, “I won't spoil the surprise, but he's not skinny Harry Potter anymore, he's stronger, not just in body, but the way he just…is. I was definitely gonna kiss him if you hadn't turned up, early I might add, and ruined the damn moment!”

“Ha, sorry about that,” Tracey replied, “Sounds like someone's smitten.”

“No, I’m not.” Daphne answered defensively, though her speed of response highlighted her denial, “He's just the first boy I've ever met who I think might actually make a good boyfriend.”

“So you say, but you didn't see your expression when you walked in here. Did he get you anything for your birthday?”

“Yeah, but he asked me to not open it in front of him,” she replied, holding up the small red gift from Harry before placing it back down on the far corner of her dressing table.

“Are you gonna open it, or what?” Tracey asked impatiently.

“Shouldn't I wait for my birthday?”

Tracey finished examining herself in Daphne's floor-length mirror and turned around to face her.

“Are you telling me you think you can wait that long to see what it is?”

Tracey knew her well, too well considering this one sentence quickly stripped her of any resolve to wait.

“But maybe it would be nice to have something to open on my birthday,” she said, weakly.

“Oh you know you're gonna open it so just open it.” Tracey snapped with a grin.

“Okay.” Daphne agreed. She put down her make-up brush, slid the present back over to herself and gently unwrapped the shimmering scarlet paper. The initial unwrapping didn’t reveal much, just a sleek black jewellery box with swirling gold writing that said “Llewelyn Jewellers and Co.”

Recognising the name of the jewellers, the best in Diagon Alley, made Daphne’s hands start to shake. Tracey was by her side and they looked at each other with wide-eyed mutual understanding. Tentatively, Daphne lifted the lid and opened it to reveal a small envelope covering its contents. She put that one side to reveal…a necklace.

“Daphne, is that goblin silver?” Tracey asked, even though both of them knew that it was by the way the metal faintly shone a rainbow of colours in the light.

Daphne gently picked up the small silver pendant and delicate silver chain and held it up for Tracey to see.

“It's beautiful,” Daphne said, examining it closely.

“It's a lily,” Tracey said curiously, “Why a lily?”

Daphne let out a little gasp of recognition, “His mother was called Lily. Her love for him…” she started, trailing off as she remembered her vow. Instead, in her head she repeated the whole sentence: “Her love for him saved his life.”

“It's beautiful, Daph, he has great taste. Wait, is it a locket? Look, there's a little hinge.”

Examining it further, Daphne spotted a tiny button on one side. Holding the locket steady, she gave it a click and the lily swung forward. On the right side on a flat silver backplate, were engraved the words “We protect our own, with love. H.J.S.P.''. On the left, nestled into the underside of the flower itself was a small, almost impossibly black stone.

“There are tiny gold runes all over it. What do you think it does?” Tracey asked.

“I dunno,” Daphne said, still staring at the thing. “Oh wait, there’s a letter.”

She handed the delicate necklace to Tracey and picked up the envelope that had come in the box. Unfolding it almost frantically she nearly tore the letter out of the packet as she sat back down by her dressing table to read.

“Daphne,

Happy Birthday.

I hope you realise the meaning of the flower I've chosen for your present. If you don’t, Lily was my mother’s name, and she gave her life for mine. With this piece of jewellery, just like with yourself, as beautiful as the flower is, what's more important is what's inside. In the locket is a miniaturised version of a ritual stone. Wear it whenever you're around raw ambient magic and the stone will capture it from the environment and store it for later use. It can hold a large quantity of magic and should fill very quickly within Hogwarts. The stone will allow you, three times, to channel the stored magic into a semi-permanent ward, or a single, channelled spell, like if you wanted to use the Incarcerous spell on pesky younger sister, for example. Just hold the tip of your wand to the stone for five seconds to activate it and the magic of your next spell will come from the stone, not yourself. I never had any time with my family, but I'm glad I can provide some more time for you to spend with yours.

Love, Harry.”

By the time Daphne had finished the letter, tears were streaming down her face.

“What is it, Daph?”

She let out a relieved, happy, grateful, disbelieving laugh amidst freefalling tears as she handed Tracey the letter to read. By the end, she was crying as well.

“Oh my God,” Tracey said with a happy chuckle at her best friend’s good fortune, “I didn’t know something like this even existed. But I tell you what, Daph, if Harry buys presents like that just for your nineteenth birthday If you don't marry this guy then I will!”

Daphne half ignored her jibe and was just staring lovingly at the locket, tears still in her eyes, unable to keep the smile on her face.

“You know what this means, don't you?” asked Tracey. Daphne didn’t respond right away, she was too busy staring at her lily.

“What?”

“You know what this means, don't you?”

“You know how great you look in your new bikini. And once you’ve got your kick off you’ll be the sexiest belle of the ball. But if you're going to catch Harry for certain, ensure “Big tit* Bones” never even had a chance, we're gonna need to find you a more… eye-catching dress. Let’s make him like putty in the palms of your hands.”

Daphne looked over at her best friend and smiled deviously.

Harry quickly got changed in the bathroom before looking himself over in the mirror. His head was spinning with the day's events so far. Ellanore had pretty much given her permission for him to date Daphne and after what had happened in the stable, it felt like a real possibility, he just hoped the gift he'd given her hadn't been too much. Thinking back, his heart skipped at the moment when they were about to kiss for the first time. His whole body had been tingling with anticipation, but then Tracey had arrived to ruin it. Drat.

He headed out of the bathroom in his muggle clothes, through the now-empty kitchen and its French double doors that had now been left open. It seemed the house was perched on top of a plateau, allowing a view of picturesque English countryside for miles around. He'd stepped onto a large patio, tiled with terracotta in a hexagonal pattern. To his right was a large square oak table, with four benches big enough to fit four people each.

Upon the table, which was shadowed by a large, square, cream parasol, were several bowls of various snacks, including crisps (or potato chips) co*cktail sausages, boxes of chocolate frogs, Every-Flavour beans, Fizzing Whizbees, chocolate chip cookies and pumpkin pasties. There were three large pitchers of various drinks including the lemonade he'd had earlier, a bowl of punch, an array of glasses and a box filled with ice that was fully stocked with bottles of butterbeer. A little way away from the table there were four large wooden deckchairs with cream upholstery and small tables in between. A large barbecue stood nearby, looking like it had been recently cleaned but it hadn't been turned on yet.

When Harry looked to his right, a little further away from the property and seating area was a large swimming pool, complete with a diving board, more deckchairs and a separate hot tub. The hot tub and pool were built into fine wooden decking and around their borders were several glass circles, clearly lights that would come on at nighttime.

Harry sat at the table and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer. He sat for around fifteen minutes, wondering what he would say when people got here. Who would come first?

The answer soon came when he heard voices coming from the kitchen. A moment later, out stepped Astoria and Draco Malfoy, who looked distinctly uncomfortable in a pair of navy swimming shorts and a pale blue dress shirt.

“So can you be nice?” Harry heard Astoria day as they exited the doors, and then their eyes all met. Harry got to his feet.

“Heir Malfoy,” Harry said, with an acknowledging nod.

“Lord Slytherin-Potter,” Draco said coolly, before making a very stiff bow. He then looked down at himself. Harry thought Draco must be feeling distinctly uncomfortable in muggle clothes and he knew Draco must've hated having to bow to him. He remembered what Daphne had said in the stables, about Draco having a good side. It wouldn't be good to show any animosity here. Could he break the ice somehow?

“You look good, Heir Malfoy,” Harry said. Draco seemed to instantly take it the wrong way and he opened his mouth in a sneer but Harry quickly spoke further.

“I mean it. I bet you don't feel comfortable in muggle clothes, but the shirt looks smart and the whole outfit is fitting for your House's noble standing.”

“I…” Draco started, stunned, “Thank you, I think.”

“See,” Astoria said with an encouraging smile, “You can be nice.”

“We can be,” Harry said, smiling in turn, “Look, Heir Malfoy, I know we've never been friends, and we may never fully see eye-to-eye, but I’m learning more and more about my position and as someone who has a lot of knowledge about the…pureblood area of the wizarding world, well let's just say you’re better prepared for your Lordship than I will be for a long time. In the future, we might be of benefit to each other. If you want, we can start again, either just for today or even when we're back at school. Call me Harry, when you want to.”

Draco stood there in shock. He hasn't been expecting his sworn enemy to say that. When Astoria had said Potter was here he'd been expecting it to dissolve quickly into insults, but Harry had been civil, friendly even. He'd had an olive branch extended to him, but should he take it? Wouldn't it be good to be at least on civil terms with the Lord of Slytherin? The Dark Lord might ask questions of him, but Harry would know that so what was the harm?

“Astoria seems to like you,” Draco said with a shrug, ”Though I guess you know I’m going to have to report to my father how today went.”

“You can just tell him we acted cordially to each other and both showed respect to the other’s positions.” Harry said, and in then a stage whisper, said “You don’t need to tell him we had fun.”

Draco allowed himself to match Harry's small smile.

“Alright, Harry,” he said, “Call me Draco.”

And then they did something both of them never thought they’d do, they shook hands. Astoria was beaming.

It was at that exact moment Neville Longbottom, full of apprehension at having been invited to such a party, walked onto the patio and saw Harry shaking hands with Draco Malfoy of all people. He gave a sideways look at the unusual situation, but the handshake ended and both of them sat down opposite each other at what looked like a wonderfully laden table. He walked over and sat on the bench to the left of his fellow Gryffindor.

“Hiya, Harry, how’s it going?” Neville asked.

“Great, thanks, buddy. You?”

“I’m good.”

“I didn’t expect to see you here today, Heir Longbottom.” Draco drawled.

“Well, I am, Heir Malfoy, can we be cordial?” Neville asked evenly.

“Of course,” Draco said, glancing at Astoria staring at him, “Harry here even suggested we have fun!”

“ ”Harry”, eh?” Neville remarked.

“Until he calls me a jumped-up Pureblood, yeah,” replied Draco with a smirk.

“That's until you act like one, Draco.”

Harry says with a grin.

“What about a jumped-up Funblood instead?” Astoria suggested, making everyone laugh.

“Sounds like a plan,” Draco said.

Next came Pansy, Millicent, Blaise and Tracey. Neville, catching Harry's eye, mouthed “We stand.” and Harry got to his feet with the others to greet their fellow guests.

One by one, each of the new people to the group made their way over to him, said “Good to see you Lord Slytherin.” and either bowed or curtsied, to which Harry replied, “Good to see you as well.”

Tracey was the last to approach him, in a flat blue and white summer dress. She made the customary curtsy, but instead said “Hiya Harry, it's nice to see you here,” completely ignoring the curious looks that were shot at her when using Harry’s first name from the other Slytherins.

“Hiya Tracey,” Harry replied, “I like your dress.”

She smiled, but that turned into a cheeky smirk as she said “You’ll like Daph’s more. She'll be here in a few, she's just bringing through the last of the guests. Ah, here they are now.”

Finally, came Susan and Hannah strolling over towards him. Harry had to admit that Susan looked good, in a Hufflepuff yellow summer dress with ruffled sleeves and a low neckline that accentuated her figure. He caught a glimpse of Terry Boot as well, who was talking to someone just inside the doorway, but he could only make out a vague colour of red from the distance they were at.

Susan and Hannah then took up his attention. Susan was very forward, grinning as almost she skipped towards him, said “Hi”, and then hugged him tightly, crushing her generous cleavage onto his chest before she and Hannah both gave the customary greeting towards him.

Next came Terry, and when Harry heard Lord Slytherin-Potter for another time and had to suffer yet another bow, he was just done with it. He was all for being shown the proper respect, but he had to say something. He turned to the group who were all still on their feet and mingling around the table.

“Guys, everyone,” he said, getting the group’s attention.

“Look, Mister big shot politician’s making an announcement already,” Tracey said, inciting a chorus of laughter.

“No announcement,” Harry said to them, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, “I just wanted to say that today's event was made for both an early party for Daphne and an opportunity for us to get to know each other. With luck, many of us will find ourselves sitting in the Wizengamot together one day. I’d like to start my political relationships on good terms. So for today, if you want, you can all call me Harry, I don’t want any of that bowing and curtseying, you’ve all known me or known of me for years. Today, let us just be students having a good time.”

“I can get behind that.” a familiar voice said behind him. Harry turned, and he couldn't help it, but his jaw dropped.

Daphne was standing in front of him in the most beautiful gown that he'd ever seen. It would’ve been something that had fit in at the yule ball, but Harry thought she looked like a supermodel. She was dressed all in scarlet, in a form-fitting dress with spaghetti straps and an almost criminally low-dipping sweetheart neckline. Below the swell of her generous breasts, her form slimmed down into a tiny waist, but then the dress kicked out around her wide hips, the fabric coming loose as it went to just above the floor. A slit in the fabric that went all the way up to her mid-thigh revealed a creamy, slender and well-toned leg, decorated with a delicate silver ankle bracelet and strappy high stilettos in the same colour as the dress.

Her face was made up exquisitely, with light brown eyeshadow, eyeliner, just a hint of blush and sinfully red lipstick. As he took in her very kissable-looking lips, he noticed a glint of shimmering silver and saw that she was wearing his gift, the finely detailed lily hung beautifully on her slender neck.

She couldn’t help the half-lipped smirk on her face at Harry's reaction. He stood there, stunned as she proudly sauntered past him and addressed the group.

“Harry's right. I'm not Heir Greengrass today, I'm just Daphne.”

“And I'm Neville.”

“Why don’t we agree to just use each other’s first names? All of us,” Astoria asked.

“I’m game,” said Blaise.

“Me too,” said Susan, followed by rest giving their agreement together.

The group’s agreement to be a little bit naughty and not conform to the rules shattered the ice and brought an excited atmosphere of anticipation, to which Pansy cried, “Woohoo, let's get pissed!”

“It’s just light alcohol in the punch, Pansy, and Mitsy, our house elf will be checking for spiking.” Daphne corrected, “Though if you managed to bring something like I know you did, we could probably get away with having some a bit later.”

“Hooray!” Pansy cheered and gave her friend a big hug.

With the ice broken and all introductions over with, Harry sat back down at the table and grabbed another butterbeer, trying not to look at Daphne too much for fear of staring. Staring, unfortunately, was something Terry Boot was doing quite obviously while the girls all dragged Daphne quite far away from the table and they formed a sort of huddle. Harry seriously did not like the lecherous way Terry was looking at Daphne at all, even though with how incredible she looked, Harry couldn’t blame him. He tried to ignore feelings about the Boot Heir’s gaze by spending some time talking to Neville, whose muggle outfit was more akin to muggle gardening wear than an outfit he could go swimming in. They talked about the upcoming trial and drank butterbeer together, while Terry, Blaise and Draco laid out on the deckchairs nearby with glasses of lemonade.

With Harry focusing on his conversation with Neville, Harry didn’t notice the sneaky looks towards him and the giggles that were erupting from the girls as they huddled together, but their half-whispered conversation was all about him.

“Have you seen how much he’s grown since the end of term though? It’s insane.” exclaimed Susan, “He looks like a seventh-year!”

“Do you think it’s something to do with becoming Lord of Slytherin?” Hannah whispered excitedly.

“Must be,” said Pansy “Don’t see how anything else fits.”

“Well he fits that plain white t-shirt alright, his arms look great.” said Tracey, causing further giggles as she caught Daphne's “I told you so” look.

“Do you think he’d be able to pick me up?” asked Astoria.

“Oh easy,” said Millicent, “I bet he could pick you up and throw you around like a rag doll.”

“He can pick me up and throw me around like a rag doll,” said Susan. Everyone laughed, apart from Daphne, and Tracey who gave Daphne a little warning look at the obvious declaration of competition.

“Well, we still can’t get with him guys,” said Millicent, “You-know-who’s after him, it would be dangerous, the Dark Lord will kill him sooner or later and you don’t want to be connected to him in that way when he does.”

“Yeah, but I could have a bit of fun with him before he carks it,” said Pansy with a mischievous, giggle-inducing look.

“If he carks it,” Daphne said, almost angry at the casual way Millicent was suggesting that it was obvious that Harry would meet his demise.

“You don’t really think he stands a chance, do you?” said Millicent, incredulously.

“Let's see,” Daphne started raising a hand ready to count Harry’s feats off on her fingers, “He beat the most powerful Dark Lord as a baby. He beat a mountain troll at eleven. He was at the centre of what happened with the Chamber of Secrets and received a special award for services to the school. He won the Triwizard tournament against Three adults. He escaped again from the Dark Lord at the end of last term. He's now Lord of not only House Potter but House Slytherin, which is famed for having access to some of the most powerful family magics ever seen. He also trounced Fudge in the Wizengamot on his first appearance after a trial that proved he could cast a Patronus charm -”

The majority of the girls seemed to be coming around to her way of thinking, judging by their expressions, but Pansy interrupted her.

“He's not powerful enough to cast a proper, corporeal one though. I bet he can only cast the wispy one.”

“Why don't we ask him?” Tracey suggested, “With the wards, we can use spells here.”

“He’s not a performing house elf, Trace,” replied Daphne, glaring.

“I'll ask him,” Astoria declared excitedly, but before Daphne could stop her, her dear sister had already gone.

While this conversation was developing, Harry and Neville quickly moved their conversation on.

Neville told Harry that the only reason he came today was because he knew Harry would be coming too, and that he was surprised Harry did, what with Draco being here. Terry, who was now seated with them at the table nodded in agreement.

“Draco is just what his father made him, Nev,” Harry said, quietly enough so Draco and Blaise on the deckchairs couldn't hear him, “But he doesn't spend all year with Daddy Lucius. I think some of the good might be seeping in. Look at the way he is watching Astoria.”

“Wow, you think he likes her? Who knew Heir Malfoy had a softer side?” Terry remarked quietly.

“I dunno.” Harry answered, keeping his volume low, “It sounds weird, but today he’s shown he can be reasonable, I just don’t think he’s really “bad” bad. Just brought up on some stupid ideas. We should challenge his ideas, but respectfully.”

“But what do we say?” Neville whispered.

Harry took a swig of butterbeer, then said. “Nothing yet, let everyone chill out for a bit.”

“Hey Harry!’ Astoria nearly shouted, bounding over from the girls towards him.

“What?” Harry responded cheekily and just as obnoxiously loudly.

“Will you show us your Patronus?” she asked excitedly.

“Is that a euphemism?” Terry said, breaking into snigg*rs.

“Ew no,” Astoria responded, looking at him that there was something wrong with him before turning back to Harry.

“Pleeeeeaaase,” she said, shaking him by the arm, ”The girls and I wanna see it.”

“He can't cast a full one. We all saw it at the Quidditch match,” called Blaise from his deckchair.

“I can actually” Harry corrected.

“Pfft, prove it.” was Blaise’s response.

“Will you prove it? Pleeeease?” she begged, shaking his arm again.

“Astoria, I don't wanna be a show-off. It's not my party.”

“I wouldn't mind seeing one,” said Terry, “If you can do it.”

“Me neither,” said Neville, “Never seen one for real.”

“But the other guys might not like it. I don’t wanna be a show-off.“

Astoria looked at Draco with puppy dog eyes, he’d obviously been eavesdropping on the conversation in between handfuls of mixed nuts.

“Fine.”

“Yaaaaay!” Astoria cried as Harry stood up.

“Now I hope you're watching ‘cause I'm only gonna do this once,” he said to her.

The girls had all turned towards him.

Raising his wand, he filled himself with the feeling of love he’d felt after his visit to the Chamber of Secrets to prep for the trial when he’d found out Sirius was still awake and waiting for him, and pronounced “Expecto Patronum.”

The silvery spell streamed from his wand and Prongs quickly materialised, glowing brightly despite the bright sun and filling the patio with a feeling of happiness and love. After the initial “ooooh” the girls stared at Harry in awe as the ethereal stag cantered a lap around the whole party.

“Told you he was powerful,” Daphne said lowly to Pansy, and Tracey gave her a smirk.

Soon after, the rest of the girls all joined them at the big table. Susan had darted ahead of the pack and sat down right next to Harry. Tracey, watching this, stood next to the entrance to their bench on the other side and then moved out of the way for Daphne to sit on his other side. Daphne loved her best friend sometimes.

As Daphne sat down next to him, she greeted him with bubbly “Hi!”, and reached forward for a butterbeer.

“Hi you,” Harry replied with a grin, “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” she replied, blushing.

“That's a lovely necklace,” Harry remarked as if he'd never seen it before, “Who got it for you?”

“Oh, just one of my admirers,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes, “He's devilishly handsome.”

Harry blushed and was too taken aback by her response to think of a snappy enough retort. Her attention was quickly taken away by Terry, who had slid up his bench to sit diagonally next to her. Harry was polite and didn't want to show any jealousy, so he listened into a conversation Tracey was having about how ridiculous the amount of homework they'd been given this year was. The group spent a while all talking, drinking and eating together, before Astoria mentioned showing some of them the Leucrottas in the stables, and she, Pansy, Millicent and Hannah set off to go and visit them.

With several of the girls gone, the conversation turned to politics.

“What will you do now, Harry, now that the House of Slytherin is gonna be on the light side of the room?” Susan asked.

“It's not,” Harry replied, frowning at her assumption.

“What do you mean? You are on the side of the light, aren't you?”

“Where I sit will be in the front row, centre,” he replied.

“But, that's where the greys sit!”

“It is,” Harry said.

Susan fluttered her eyelashes at him and sent him a sultry smile. “So you haven't given it much thought then, there are lots of benefits to being on the light side,” she said, putting a hand on his leg.

Daphne thought that if she were a veela she might burn this girl to cinders, but couldn't help but grin to herself as Harry immediately and gingerly lifted Susan’s hand from his leg and placed it back on her lap.

Terry then came back in from the bathroom and sat where he had before.

“Hey, Daphne,” he said, with his winningest smile, “Do you wanna go for a walk? You could show me the house.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, tartly.

“This conversation is boring, come on,” he said exaggeratedly, “Come on, I can tell you all about the new broom my Dad got me when he got more shares in Nimbus -”

“I’m not. Interested,” she said with an icy tone.

“Oh come on,” Terry said again. He wasn't getting the message and he was doing Harry's head in.

“She said she’s not interested, Terry,” said Harry, sharply. “Take the hint.”

He took a glance at Daphne who flashed an appreciative smile. Terry folded his arms and went in a huff for a while.

“As I was saying, I have thought about it, Susan. I've decided that as the head of a house known for its keeping of traditions, I don't understand a lot of them enough to make a judgement about how I feel about them, like how family magics work for example.”

“A very mature response,” commented Daphne.

“Ah, but when you do, surely you will wanna make changes,” Susan said plainly.

“No changes are needed,” Blaise responded almost aggressively.

“Yes,” chimed in Draco, "They're perfect the way they are.”

“I think it's naive to think that society can't be improved,” said Daphne.

“Exactly. Even Voldemort wants to improve it in his own way” said Neville.

Neville's fearlessness in brazenly saying the Dark Lord's name surprised Harry, but the utterance of it brought shudders through the rest of the group.

“It's just a name guys and you lot were barely even born in the last war.”

“It's just something that's part of society now, we can't stop it. It's part of us.” Susan said, shrugging.

“Of course you can. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,“ Harry replied, channelling Hermione. “If you're already afraid of an evil man's name, what chance do we have?”

“You say he’s evil,” said Draco, leaning forward to grab a chocolate frog, “My father says otherwise. He believes that muggleborns stole our magic and it should be taken from them by force.”

“Yeaaaah, but they didn't though,” said Neville, like it stupidly obvious, ”Be real.”

“How didn't they?” said Draco, his well-honed sneer now beginning to enter the conversation.

“What do you guys know about genetics?” Harry said.

“What?” said Susan.

“Like how muggle clone plants and stuff? Neville asked.

“Okay, so genetics is the thing that decides inheritance,” Harry explained, ”It's how you might have your Dad's colour hair, Draco, or Susan has the same brown eyes as her aunt. Muggles have worked out that through microscopes - the opposite of telescopes, they can see things far smaller than our eyes - that when…jeez, I can't believe I'm going to talk about this kinda stuff.

When a man and a woman have sex and they succeed in making a baby the man's seed and what they call a woman's ovum meet inside the woman's body they combine.

Now each sperm, that's one of millions of tiny “seeds” inside the man's “seed' and in each ovum - which the woman gets a new one every month - contains half the information that's needed to decide the baby's characteristics. The bit of information that decides a given feature is called a gene. This could be something as basic as hair colour, bone density, height, intelligence, everything.

Take Mr and Mrs Weasley, the information given by them in their children's conception always says ‘red hair.” because they both have red hair and so every one of their children is born with it. Daphne’s Mum and Dad have blue and brown eyes respectively. Astoria has brown ones while Daphne’s are blue. Now sometimes, a deciding gene will have more of an influence than the other; my Dad had black, untameable hair, but if I look at photos of my ancestors, even though their spouses often had different types of hair, the men always had the same as mine.

“Makes sense enough,” says Susan, “You're so clever, Harry.”

Daphne gritted her teeth but said nothing.

“But what does that have to do with muggleborns?” Draco asked.

“Well, you see, on some occasions, quite often, features that haven't been seen for generations in a family pop up occasionally. Sometimes it happens randomly, a mutation that no one yet knows why it happened. Sometimes though, a new parent's ancestor had a given feature but had a less influential version of the gene, therefore it hadn't shown up in that new parent's characteristics at their birth but was still present in their seed, and when the gene that they give in their part of the conception happens to still be stronger than the gene the other gives, the age-old characteristic shows up. It’s incredibly likely this is what happens with whether or not you have magic. Two magical parents are nearly 100 percent likely to have a magical child, but with muggleborns -

“So, then why would two children of a pureblood and a muggleborn like you still have magic?” Blaise interrupted.

“Magic is powerful, if it is present in the seed, it's likely it is usually strong and therefore inherited,” replied Harry.

“So you think muggleborns get magic as a random mutation, or it's from a long-lost relative?” asked Draco.

It makes sense, as much as I hate to admit it.” said Blaise.

“For you maybe.” replied the Malfoy Heir, “How is it you even know so much cutting-edge muggle science? Is it even that well known?”

“It's something that I learned in muggle school at ten, that’s when everyone is taught it. Head into London and go to a muggle shop called WHSmith and ask for a year 6 science textbook and you'll see what I mean. It's that well understood by muggles, Draco, it's an intrinsic part of their understanding of the world. They've been working on genetics for years. Recently the top muggle scientists even managed to use their knowledge to create exact copies of animals called clones in a lab. The sheep were completely, down to the base level. More identical than identical twins.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Blaise, leaning back in shock. “How isn't this well known in the wizarding world? This would completely change how we understand magic!”

“So…Muggleborns are born with magic through no fault of their own…they don't force us to give them our blood or anything? asked Draco, clearly struggling to process what he'd learned.

“No,” answered Harry.

“Would that even work?” asked Daphne.

“No,” Harry repeated, “Muggles don't have blood replenishment potions so loads of them donate their blood every three months, which is taken to a storage facility so it can be pushed into muggles who are bleeding out through tiny pipes, but it doesn't change their characteristics whatsoever.”

“That's so gross,” said Terry.

“It's pretty interesting, said Daphne, I’m impressed, Harry.”

“Thanks,” he replied, shooting a smile at her that made her catch her breath before he continued, ”But yeah Draco, no one steals magic, even muggleborns have bouts of accidental magic. Loads of the muggleborns in Gryffindor talk about it as it was such a big deal to their families at the time.”

“It's true,” said Susan, “Auntie says it's the main part of Obliviators’ jobs.”

“But then why is no one talking about this?” asked Blaise, almost angrily, his new perspective clearly getting him frustrated with the state of things.

“Lots of people want to keep the status quo, it's safe,” said Neville, “I bet loads of them do know about it when you talk about it now, Harry. Admitting muggles know more about some things than we do is scary, especially to a lot of the Wizengamot. People fear things they don’t understand, so they just don’t talk about it.”

“I… I have to talk to Father about this,” said Draco, who was struggling to know what to think.

“Don’t Draco,” Harry said, suddenly and very seriously.

“What, why?” Draco replied.

“What do you think might happen if the Dark Lord got wind that you had questions about his ideals?”

Draco gulped.

“It's okay,” Harry said, trying to be comforting, “I’m not gonna tell you everything your father believes is wrong, I’m sure he believes in many traditions that have a good reason behind them, but you’re becoming your own man. If we’re to be colleagues one day, I’d like my colleague to be a man who makes up his own mind about the world by making his own effort to understand it, not just from what his Dad has told him.”

“My…that’s what my mum was saying,” Draco said, clearly just now fully processing the meaning of her words.

“There you go then,” Harry said, sitting back and draining his drink. All that talking had made him very thirsty.

The conversation then moved on to Quidditch, and once Draco had finished just staring into space trying to process his newly shaken worldview, he told Harry that he'd be practising all summer and that there was no way Harry would be able to beat him if he wasn't on a Firebolt. At Neville’s insistent that he could, Harry agreed to facilitate a bet between them. They would get a week to get used to each other's brooms before the Gryffindor vs Slytherin game and then fly them against each other. Ten galleons were placed on the winner. Terry, Susan and Daphne all decided to get in on the action as well.

Terry, insistent on trying to impress Daphne, proudly told them all about his new Nimbus Two Thousand and Five and offered her to take a ride on it when they were back at Hogwarts. He was swiftly declined, much to Harry's delight, but then Terry proceeded to boast further about his father's shares in Nimbus and how he could get anyone a better deal on a broom like his if they were on good terms with him or his father.

After a while more chatting, mostly about the different teachers, Harry decided to change the subject.

“So Neville,” Harry said, smirking while running a finger around the lip of what was his fourth nearly empty Butterbeer bottle, ”What do you think about Tracey?”

“What about her?” Neville asked, confused.

“You said you wouldn't!” said Daphne with a glare, though the smirk she gave proved there was no real anger.

“Did I?” Harry said, grinning and waggling his eyebrows, ”I'm sure I said, "I promise I definitely won't not never keep quiet about it.””

Daphne snorted.

“Quiet about what?” Neville asked, clearly getting frustrated.

“Oh, just tell you that Tracey fancies you, that's all,” Harry answered with a tone of nonchalance.”

“What?” Neville spluttered, “No she doesn’t!”

“Yeah, Neville, she does.” confirmed Daphne, “In fact, she said she saw you in Herbology and liked how good you were with your hands.”

She and Harry grinned at each other's antics while Neville blushed massively.

“Should…should I talk to her?” he stuttered, clearly now very nervous.

“Well, do you like her?” Blaise asked.

“I mean her smile is really pretty but I don’t know her all that well.”

“You should go for it Neville,” Draco said, “She’s having trouble getting a boyfriend among the purebloods in our house, even though she’s as good as one.”

“Wow, she’ll be happy you said that,” said Daphne.

Draco simply smiled and nodded.

“Why not get to know her? Harry suggested, “Ask her to go for a walk or something. What's the worst that can happen, you don’t like each other and you’re in no different position than when you started?”

“I guess.”

“Hey guys!” shouted Hannah.

The other girls were walking back around the gravel path from the stables and were entering the patio area, towards the tables.

“Heyyyy! said Daphne, “How were my babies?”

“So frickin cute!” Hannah declared excitedly.

“I know right?” Daphne replied with a grin.

“Can we go in the pool yet?” Pansy asked, “It's so f*ckin hot in that stuffy old stable and it's not much better out here.”

“Whenever you want,” Daphne said.

“Awesome,” said Millicent.

“Just head in back via the kitchen, there's bathrooms on the right.” directed Daphne, pointing to the house.

“No need, I’ve got mine on under my dress,” said Pansy.

“Me too,” said Astoria.

“Me three,” said Susan.

“I guess we all had the same idea then,” Tracey said, “Any of you guys coming in?”

That decision was already made up for them when they saw that some of the girls had already started taking off their dresses. Tracey made sure that she was standing right in front of Neville when she pulled hers off over her head to reveal a sky-blue bikini on her very toned, athletic frame. At the girls’ display, most of the boys were stunned, having never seen any girl's body up close before, and now here they were looking at several. Neville, Blaise, and Terry shot to the first quickly after the shock had worn off and quickly took off their shirts.

Harry was waiting for Daphne, to if she was going in before he made a decision so didn't move just yet. It was then that Susan came to his side and stood right next to him. Twisting to her side, she unzipped a zip and then shimmied the yellow dress down her body to reveal her large breasts in a flattering white bodysuit. Harry could do nothing but stare.

“Wow, Susan, your boobs are amazing!” Millicent said.

She blushed at the compliment before smiling and glancing at Harry.

“What, these old things?” she said, grasping her breasts and giving them a jiggle that had the boys mesmerised. Harry couldn’t look away, Susan’s boobs were legendary at Hogwarts and now there they were less than a metre from his face.

Daphne was fuming. She should’ve known Susan would pull something like this, she’d been flirting with and surreptitiously touching Harry all day so far. Now she had Harry nearly hypnotised by her admittedly fantastic breasts, and who could blame him? Daphne gritted her teeth and tried to ignore it.

“She’s just having a bit of a flirt, it’s fine Daphne. He got you the necklace, remember?” she told herself, but then the redhead glanced towards her and had the gall to send her a wink. That was it. Daphne had had enough.

“So, that’s how she’s gonna play it is she?” she whispered under her breath, forming an idea, “Two can play at that game.”

“Harry?” Daphne called, airily. To Harry’s credit, he pulled his gaze away from Susan and looked towards her. “Can you come in with me and help get the towels?” Daphne asked, ”Some of the girls might want to lay down on the sunbeds when they get out of the pool.”

“Sure,” Harry said, getting to his feet straight away. Susan reluctantly moved out of the way, but she was happy about the fact he took one last glance at her breasts as he walked past.

Harry followed Daphne inside the house, admiring the way her hips swayed atop her long legs that looked even longer in her stilettos. As he passed through the doors into the house, he was glad for a quick reprieve from the heat, and as he leaned against the cool dark granite island, Daphne simply said “One sec” and nipped down a little passageway off the kitchen he hadn't been down yet. Less than a minute later she reappeared carrying a stack of white fluffy towels for the group, placing them on a small table near the doorway, about a metre away from where Harry was standing.

She looked at him with her piercing, ever-so-blue eyes and stood still for a moment, gauging him. An enticing small bite at the corner of her scarlet lips was the only indication she gave him of what was to come. She marched forward, heels clacking on the tiled floor as she strode towards him, pushed his back against the worktop and then reaching a hand up and into his hair to pull his head down towards her, kissed him fiercely.

Harry almost felt like he couldn’t breathe from the new sensations as their lips touched passionately, but he instantly responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her waist as she massaged his lips with her own. But then, she pulled away, almost as quickly as she came and Harry was left with his jaw wide open again as Daphne made a wonderfully musical giggle.

“Daph, that was…” Harry responded breathlessly.

“Amazing? Wonderful? Everything, you’d hope it would be?” Daphne answered, teasingly.

“My first kiss.”

Her cheeky smile became warm “And was it everything you wanted?”

“Better,” he admitted, with a blush. Daphne's heart sang. She was having the best day, and maybe it could get even better.

“Do you wanna go in the pool with me?” she asked, eyes bright with joy and exhilaration at what else might be to come.

“Definitely,” Harry replied, nodding fervently like an excited puppy. It made Daphne feel wonderful and his enthusiasm made her giggle.

“Well then,” Daphne said, her expression now a sultry smile, three slow clacking steps towards him raising the tension once more, “You’re gonna need to help me out of this dress.”

Chapter 10: The Party - Part Three

Chapter Text

A/N - Wow, this party turned out to be a bit of a beast as the last chapter was ten thousand words, so I’ve split what I thought would be the final section of it into two further chapters. I think it’s worth it, and will set up a lot of relationships for the future. Please take the time to review if you have a moment. Enjoy!

Chapter Ten - The Party - Part 3

“You’re gonna need to help me out of this dress.”

Daphne’s words hung in the air, turning the already heady, hormonally-charged atmosphere in the kitchen into one of sudden, heart-stilling anticipation. It wasn't an order, but a need. She wasn't going to be able to go swimming with him unless she could get out of the dress, but yet she hadn’t asked Tracey or one of the other girls to help her as Harry had expected, she'd asked him to do it.

It was an offer of intimacy on a level that Daphne had never experienced, nor requested before. She found that her feelings for Harry, which were initially based on everything he’d done for her family before today, had already been hugely increased by their wonderfully open and honest talk before the party had even started. Now, with unexpected delight and adrenaline of that sudden increase, coupled with the excitement of the upcoming party, meant that she felt her feelings were being driven to new heights. She’d thought she couldn’t think any better of him, but then she'd opened the truly life-changing gift he'd given her, proving once more just how thoughtful, honest, and with seemingly unbending sheer will he was. Just being in his presence was intoxicating, invigorating, his lean muscular figure and newfound confidence mirroring his astounding inner strength and power. It was addictive, the way that he made her feel jittery, excited, desired and, though she'd be loathe to admit it out loud, horny. She was nervous, but the power and confidence she felt in that dress, with every stride, every clack of her favourite heels had given her the strength to ask him what she wanted, to get close to him.

Harry's breath had caught in his throat when she uttered the words. If he'd wanted to get closer to Daphne today, what she suggested was beyond anything he could ever have imagined. After all, they'd only really had one proper conversation before today, but the way she behaved, not just in her self-sworn and unwavering quest to save her sister despite all odds, but around her family and her friends, showed him she had a strength of heart that was intense, powerful, and pure. She'd offered him a vow to keep his secrets without a second’s hesitation and even though she'd said it was purely driven by curiosity they both knew that the real reason was because they felt drawn to each other. He had to get closer to her, not just because she was ridiculously hot, but because everything he was learning about her, of her, thrilled him.

He found her unbelievably beautiful, with the true hourglass figure of an early bloomer that astounded boys all around her. When she was made up like this, she could easily pass for a supermodel. She was astonishing, intimidating, but she wanted him, she must do, Harry thought, or she wouldn't have kissed him, or asked what she had.

He swallowed, a good ten seconds had passed since she'd asked the question and was standing waiting for a response, a dainty hand placed on a curvaceous hip as she looked at him with an intensity in her electric blue eyes that he'd never seen before.

Under his breath, Harry said, “I'd like that.”

She smiled, and as both of their hearts pounded in their chests, she turned on the spot, a waft of the aroma of her fruity shampoo hitting his nostrils as he found himself inches away from the creamy, flawless skin of her upper back.

“There's a little clasp and a zip,” she said quietly.

“Okay,” Harry muttered.

He located the small metal clasp and reached up his hands to grasp it, but the velvet feeling of her skin on the back of his fingers made him awkwardly fumble to grip it. Hands now shaking, he tried again. Nope. Daphne giggled, making him feel both frustrated and slightly embarrassed. He steeled himself and realised if he grasped the edges of the dress right where the clasp was, he could just push the sides over each other and the clasp would be disconnected. On the third try, he got it, and he told her so, but now came the zip. Daphne felt a blush bloom on her face out of Harry’s eyesight as he took the tiny black zipper between a finger and thumb and slowly, painstakingly pulled it downwards.

Daphne's hairs stood on end as she felt Harry's hands upon her, and as he slowly lowered the zipper she almost forgot to breathe. Yet as Harry revealed more of flesh she felt his breathing get slightly heavier and hit the back of her neck and shoulders, making her unintentionally bite her lip as she felt tingles spread through her body and move downwards to her core.

As the dress was unzipped fully, Harry once more grasped each now free edge of her dress around at the top of its connecting clasp, pulled them apart and tried to pull them slowly down from just below her shoulder blade to her waist. He managed to pull the pieces apart okay, and he caught a glimpse of yet more flawless skin and the edges of the two enticing dimples of Venus on her lower back, but as he tried to pull it down it wouldn’t budge.

Daphne giggled as he unsuccessfully tried again. “I have decent boobs, you know, gotta have straps to keep them in,” she said breathily, “Here, let me.”

She turned back around towards him and one by one, she pulled the thumb-width strap off her shoulders, revealing much thinner spaghetti straps, also red, underneath.

Harry couldn't help it, but the tightening in his shorts had now reached full strength as Daphne, without breaking eye contact, took hold of the sweetheart neckline at the front of her dress and pulled it down. He was sure he was in heaven and was the first to break eye contact as she revealed the top half of her bikini.

Bright red, the same as her dress, the small cups also had a slight sparkle to them, and her cleavage was so round, so generous that the creamy white flesh of her seemingly gravity-defying breasts almost looked like they could fall out at any moment. The way the cascading locks of her hair fell, framing them only solidified the fact that Harry doubted he would ever see breasts as perfect, even if he hadn't even fully seen them.

He didn’t notice as he could barely look away from her chest, but Daphne unintentionally chewed the corner of her lip at the darkened look in his emerald eyes. She'd already known she was attractive of course, how many times had she been told? In the past, she'd always hated how much attention she'd got, regardless of the power it sometimes gave her. With Harry though, she wanted his attention, she wanted him to want her, and the sheer desire in his expression made her want to take things further. But she couldn't, not yet. He'd just had his first kiss, after all, but that didn't mean she couldn't show a little bit more of what she had to offer.

Following the little pause, she pulled the dress down from around her waist and bending forward, she pulled it down past her hips and it fell to her ankles. She looked up at him again, stepped out of it and kicked the dress to the side. After her recent shopping trip to buy her outfit, Daphne hadn’t shown her mother this bikini but her backup one instead, as she knew her mum would never have let her wear it today. But now, her sneaky deception was paying off in full. While it had full coverage over her naughty bits and her bum, it was tied together at the sides with fabric which was also only a thumb’s width and didn't start to widen into the front covering panel until it reached mid-thigh on each side.

Harry's eyes roved over her form, taking in not just her flat, but slightly muscular stomach, and the way her tiny waist flared out into generous hips. Her long, slender legs in her heels looked sublime, and Harry felt so nervous he felt almost embarrassed to look at the front panel which he knew covered her modesty.

“Like what you see?” Daphne asked, twisting to one side, showing how the curve of her back kicked out into her round derriere.

“You look…”Harry tried, mesmerized.

“Kneazle got your tongue?” she teased.

“f*cking incredible,” he said.

“I know,” she said casually, but with a dazzling smile, “Now let's head back out. I think we need to show Susan who the real competition is, don't you?”

Swiftly, she walked back over to the towels, handed him half and put the rest under her arm. Without another word she marched out into the sunshine, feeling like a goddess.

“Oh my God, Daphne, you look amazing!” shouted Tracey from the pool as Daphne strutted onto the patio with Harry in tow. They put the towels down on one of the empty deckchairs by the pool. Everyone apart from Draco and Astoria was already in the water.

“Holy sh*t,” Terry said.

Even Neville said “Woah.”

“Thanks, guys,” she replied, beaming.

Harry was still semi-shell-shocked and stood there awkwardly as Daphne sat on another one of the deckchairs and removed her heels.

Susan, though thoroughly miffed about how Daphne looked in her bikini was far more focused on something else, and called, “Hey Harry, if you're going to come in the pool with us all, you're gonna have to take your top off.”

Even Daphne laughed at that one.

“Good point” Harry replied, snapping out of his stupor and thanking the Gods that the tightening in his shorts had started to go soft and wouldn’t be revealed when he took off his top, he kicked off his flip flops, reached one hand over his shoulder and in one fell swoop, removed his white t-shirt.

“Holy sh*t, Harry, you're f*ckin ripped,” Terry said from the water as Harry’s bare chest came on display.

Daphne was staring, and she wasn't the only one. Susan had let out a little “eep” and sunk into the water, only her eyes and nose above it. Pansy and Tracey looked at each other open-mouthed as if to check if the other was seeing what they were seeing.

Harry was so grateful for the new potions Tonks had got him, which had done an immense job of completely transforming his body, even though he knew they wouldn’t have had such an effect if he hadn’t trained so damn hard for the tournament last year. He wasn't hugely bulky, he could still just about fit a medium-sized t-shirt, but he was very toned.

Daphne was sitting right next to him when he took his shirt off and she had the best view. His shirt had lifted upwards, revealing six-pack abs, broad, strong shoulders and toned pectoral muscles. She had no idea what the right name was for those little lines at the sides of his abs that ran down into his shorts in a “V” shape, but she had a sudden impulsive idea that she would very much like to lick ice cream off of them.

He looked so tall and strong towering above her, but then he leaned forward, reached out his hand, smiled, and said, coming in?

She nodded eagerly, took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. Then, he was gone, with glee on his face as he ran and jumped into the pool, splashing both Neville and Pansy, the latter of whom cried “My hair!” in indignation. Daphne wasn't stupid, she knew when she did her hair that morning that it would be ruined when she went in the pool, but she’d spent most of her allowance on a set of very expensive waterproof makeup, which, due to a variant of the Impervius charm built into the products, would completely repel water. She jumped right in after Harry, went right under the water and came up to face him and gave him a big grin.

“Come on Draco, come in with me,” Astoria pleaded in her pink bikini from the Malfoy scion’s side, pet lip out and looking all innocent.

“Sorry Astoria, I'm not in the mood.”

“But I could make you in the mood.

“Sorry but no.”

“Pleeeeease,” she begged. Draco just looked at her. Most everyone in the pool had stopped to watch, and Harry wanted everyone to join in on the fun, for Daphne and Astoria.

“Draco Malfoy, if you don't get in this pool, I swear I will use whatever power I have as Lord of Slytherin to make it that all blonde boys in Slytherin have to wear pink robes to every start of term feast!” Harry called, grinning and making the rest of the party howl at the idea. Even Draco himself couldn’t keep the corners of his mouth turning up.

“You wouldn't dare.” he challenged.

“Try me.”

“Ugh, fine!” Draco said and he stood up to unbutton his shirt.

“Yaaaay!” cheered Astoria.

For a good hour, the group laughed, swam, chatted and played. There was a diving competition in which no one was declared the winner and the boys all had a competition to see who could do the most lengths underwater. In the end, Neville won, much to everyone's surprise, but Tracey congratulated him by giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek, his stunned expression causing great mirth in everyone else.

After a little more general chilling, with some people occasionally getting out for a bit to lay on the deckchairs by the pool, Tracey suggested one last competition. They were to get into teams of two at the shallow end, and they would have a tournament. In each team one of them had to sit on the other one's shoulders, they would then have two minutes to wrestle the other team into the water. If the time ran out, or both teams fell, any bout would be a draw. The winners of each bout would go on to face the other winner, and any draws would stay on in case it was uneven at the end and they couldn’t hold the semi-finals.

Her suggestion was received with enthusiasm by the group, some of whom jumped back in the pool and the rest immediately started swimming towards the shallow end.

“I pick Harry!” called Susan, who turned to her at her name, to which she flicked her wet ponytail behind her shoulder and pushed her shoulders back, smiling at him prettily.

“I want Draco!” called Astoria.

“But I want Draco,” said Pansy.

“Well tough titt*es, I picked him first,” replied Astoria, “And I’ve got dibs.”

Before Pansy could reply, Terry called, “I want Daphne!” making Harry grit his teeth and glare at the back of Terry’s head.

“I want Daphne too,” he announced,

“Ah, but dibs, remember?” Terry replied smarmily.

“f*ck dibs,” was Harry’s snapping reply.

“Guys, guys, guys, guys stop,” Tracey said, holding her hands above the water, trying to stop an argument, “We’re all friends here, calm your tit*. I’m in charge now and we’re gonna make this fair, everyone out of the water.”

No one part from Daphne started to move.

“I swear I’m going to rip your bollocks and titt*es off if you don’t get out of this damn pool!”

“Alright, alright!” said Neville whose new movement led everyone else to start getting out as well, “Enough with the crassness, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I’d kiss you with it,” was Tracey's automatic reply before she stopped and covered her mouth in shock.

Daphne, who was first out of the pool stood next to her and teased, “Mouth engage before brain a bit there, Trace?”

“Mhm,” she replied, blushing to her ears.

Once everyone was out of the pool, Tracey had them all line up.

“Right everyone this is how it’s going to happen,” she announced, “It’s Daphne’s party, so she gets to pick first. She picks someone, who chooses the next person to get picked, who chooses the next one to do the picking and so on. Okay?”

“Sounds fair,” agreed Blaise and the rest of them sounded their assent.

“Okay, so the picker, you step away from the group and stand where I am, and when you’ve picked you both go over there, okay?” said Tracey brightly, pointing to a spot a few metres away before moving to get in the lineup herself.

Daphne stepped to the spot where Tracey had stood, the floor around the pool had still been cool as water had been splashed on it but the decking she moved onto was hot on her bare feet and nearly hurt. She turned around and faced the group and put her finger on her lip, going “ummmm” as if she was just now choosing. Of course, she knew who her choice would be when Tracey suggested the idea for the game, but it was fun to make him squirm. Initially, Harry had been sure she’d pick him, but then he saw her expression and his confidence began to wane, regardless of his knowledge of Daphne’s mastery of deception with her facial expressions. The rest of them believed it as was well, apart from Astoria and Tracey, and Terry deliberately moved to stand with his legs apart and puffed out his chest.

“I chooooooose…” Daphne said with a long pause, “Harry!”

Harry smiled and stepped away from the line, loving Terry’s low mutter of “For f*ck’s sake,” as he moved to Daphne’s side and turned on the spot to face the group.

Harry didn’t care who went next, he had what he wanted, so he just announced “Right Tracey, you picked the game, you can pick next,” before he and Daphne moved to Tracey’s allocated “complete teams” spot.

“Yay!” Tracey said and walked out to take her turn.

“I pick Neville,” she said, without any hesitation. Neville grinned and walked out to join her. He was feeling nervous around Tracey, but he was happy to spend a bit of quality time with her. Having spent a bit of time with Hannah in his youth, and wanting her to come out of her shy shell a little called her to go next.

Hannah was only just out of the line before she picked Susan, who walked past Daphne glaring at her. To Daphne, it felt glorious.

Thoroughly deflated, Susan took her place next to her friend and said, “Oh, I don’t know, Astoria,” picking at random.

Astoria bounded from her spot as Pansy groaned. Draco, on the other hand, was pleased to be chosen immediately and so enthusiastically. She just made him feel carefree whenever he was around her; like all the darkness and bullsh*t from his life at home just didn’t matter. He felt a bit sorry for Pansy though. He didn’t fancy her but he did think she was a fun person to be around, so he chose her next.

Pansy took her spot, being the last one to choose. Millicent smiled at her, and everyone was pretty adamant they knew what Pansy’s choice was gonna be. It seemed a good idea, after all, and would be pretty funny having Blaise or Terry on the other’s shoulders, but that is not what happened. Now that Daphne, Tracey and Astoria all had the boys they wanted, even if she couldn’t have Draco, she thought “At least this way I’ll get one too.”

“I choose Blaise,” she said.

“What?” said Terry loudly, frowning, “Why didn’t you choose Millicent?”

“I just wanted to be with a boy.” she said meekly, looking over at her “not picked” friend.

“What am I not good enough for you, is that it? I even helped you get an O on your potions essay that one time.”

“She just knows Blaise better, don’t you Pansy?” said Harry, trying to come to her rescue.

“So what? Now I have to pair with Millicent?” he moaned, “She’s heavier than me, even if the antigravitational upthrust of the water would reduce that we’ve got no change.”

“Don't talk about her like that,” snapped Daphne, “If you’re gonna be rude you can just go home.”

Terry stopped at that, swallowed, and seemed to realise his misstep. This was a networking party for the ages, he couldn’t f*ck this up, he thought, realising he needed to do some immediate damage control.

“I’m sorry Millicent,” he said, turning to her, looking genuinely contrite, “I didn't mean it like that, I just haven't won anything today and I wanted a chance to beat them all. I’m sure we can do it together if we try.”

Millicent's face was hard, she was a tough call, but Daphne knew she was seconds from tearing up, especially when she said “I don’t…I don’t think I want to anymore.”

“Please, Millie,” says Daphne, her voice lilting with her plea, “It won’t be as fun if you aren’t playing.”

“Plus if he’s a dick anymore we can strip him off and vanish his shorts.“ added Tracey, making not just Millicent laugh, but everyone. Even Terry couldn’t help but snort at the audacity of Tracey’s suggestion and realised she’d allowed him to save face, so he turned to Millicent, dropped to his knees and took her hand.

Looking up at her, he vowed, “I swear on the existence of my shorts, Millicent, I won’t be rude to you again today.”

Everyone laughed and then cheered when after a little hesitation, Millicent turned up the corners of her mouth and said, “Okay.”

Astoria, Draco, Susan and Hannah all got in the pool when Tracey stopped where she stood and realised she needed something to count the time on. Daphne advised her bedroom window was open and she could use the clock by her bed so Tracey should just summon it, but Tracey had left her wand in Daphne’s room so Pansy walked back to where she’d been sitting, grabbed her wand and summoned the small wooden clock through the window with a simple “Accio.”

With their clock sorted and everyone back in the pool, how did they choose who got to go first? As it was Tracey’s game, she was the official timekeeper, unless it was her and Neville’s turn, of course. Again, as it was Daphne’s birthday party, she and Harry would get to go first, and their first opponents were a volunteering Pansy and Blaise.

As everyone else sat on the side, their feet dangling in the water, Daphne and Harry, and Pansy and Blaise moved opposite each other in the shallow end of the pool. Then, suddenly loving being in charge, Tracey shouted, “Ladies, mount your man’s shoulders.” Harry had been standing directly behind Daphne, watching a drop of water trail its way enticingly down the side of her neck when Tracey had made that announcement, and he took a deep breath before dipping himself in the water. For a few seconds, as he opened his eyes underwater his mind raced with the thought “Holy sh*t, I’m six inches away from Daphne’s arse.” He stared at the taught red fabric around her buttocks, but then she spread her slender, toned thighs and he pushed his head between them, reached his arms around her knees and stood up quickly in the water. His plan to make her jump paid off as he caught the end of her surprised yelp as his ears cleared the water. He laughed at his success, which wasn’t marred by the playful slap she gave him to the side of his head. But then, he locked challenging eyes with Blaise across the water, and Harry’s innate competitiveness completely trumped any focus on the fact that Daphne’s velvet-soft thighs were resting on either side of his head.

The bout didn’t take very long, not with the combination of the potions, the many years of quidditch and the strict training regimen Harry had held himself to last year in order to prepare for the tournament. It meant that he could easily plant himself on the pool’s floor, and his strong torso meant any pushing of Daphne that Pansy would do wouldn’t affect his position. However, Daphne was also physically fit as well, having made sure that she exercised daily from her second year when she began to grow fearful of some of the more despicable behaviour of some of her fellow students. Some boys just didn't take no for an answer, and she’d been worried she might have to fight someone off one day. The unfortunate truth did provide a positive outcome this time, as she easily managed to manipulate Pansy’s slight frame, hooking a full arm under Pansy’s shoulder and dragging her into the water in less than twenty seconds. Pansy and Blaise were both disappointed, but graceful in their defeat, and Harry gave Daphne a double high-five before they got out of the water.

Next, it was Team Tracey and Neville, vs Team Susan and Hannah. This one took a little bit longer, and then their game became a draw when Susan accused Tracey of trying to distract her by grabbing her boob. Tracey had just shrugged and asked “Can you blame me? Look at the size of those puppies!” to loud laughs. In response, Susan had blushed and said “Nah, I guess not.”

For the last of the initial heats, Millicent and Terry lost to Draco and Astoria. It turned out that Astoria was freakishly strong. She had a wiry frame and Draco managed to hook a leg behind Terry’s which made him lose his balance and they went tumbling in the water. Terry looked glum as he and Millicent sat on the side, but their game nearly went to the full allotted time, so he was happy that they’d managed to put up a good fight against Draco and Astoria, who Tracey affectionally dubbed “The Demon”, to Astoria’s delight.

This left four teams left, and they were onto the semi-finals. Harry had been sitting next to Daphne on the poolside, and not knowing how she would feel about public displays of affection, had simply edged his hand along, and angling his leg so it was out of view, placed his fingers gently over hers. Just this little flirty gesture in the happiness of the day had their hearts pounding, and they kept making little glances at each other. But then it was their turn, and this time they would be facing Susan and Hannah.

The atmosphere was a bit tense after this one, it was more aggressive in nature than any of the others. Daphne had worked out that she could lock her ankles behind Harry’s back, so it allowed him the use of his hand. Susan had been gone all in and was really quite vicious, by the end Daphne had red lines from fingernail scratches on her shoulder, but just after Tracey had called out there was a minute left, Harry managed to pull Hannah’s arms from around her knees and at the same time Daphne grabbed Susan’s ponytail and dragged her into the water. Susan complained and said she wanted a rematch, but with a few people’s justified concern that a rematch might get even more aggressive, Tracey denied the request.

The last match of the semifinals was over quickly. As she rose out of the water on Draco’s shoulders, Astoria raised both of her arms to the sky, hands like claws and cried “I. Am. The Demooooooon, Mwahahahaha” and both Tracey and Neville couldn’t keep straight faces. It didn’t take long though before Tracey went flying into the water, as Astoria and Draco had created a novel tactic, where he would sink into the water to his ears, as Astoria called “Aaaaaaand…Go!” to which he stood up quickly while Astoria pushed Tracey by her shoulders as hard she could. It was a shock tactic that was very successful.

This was it then, the finals. Harry and Daphne, vs Draco and Astoria. They were getting ready to join them in the water, when Tracey called “The Game Master needs to pee,” and went off to go to the bathroom. This meant Draco and Astoria got up and walked over to the seating area to grab something to drink, and that Daphne and Harry could have a good pre-game conversation.

“Okay,” Daphne said, “We’ve got this. We can easily beat them, Draco’s not as strong as you are. If they try for that sneaky tactic again, you sink as well and go at the same time as Draco. Got it?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” said Harry, “I’ll try to splash Draco in the face to distract him.”

“Good plan,” said Daphne, as Harry looked over towards their final opponents. They were clearly amping each other up. Astoria was practically bouncing on the spot, Harry overheard Draco say “You were amazing!”

Harry pursed his lips.

“What is it?” asked Daphne

Harry was still watching. Draco was beaming, and Harry watched him pick up his glass and let Astoria try some of his drink. He had an idea. He almost hated himself for it, knowing what his relationship with Draco had been like over the years, but -

“Let's let them win,” Harry whispered.

“What?!” asked Daphne, pulling her head slightly back in her confusion, “Why?”

“Look at them. Look at how he is with your sister, it’s like he’s not even the same Draco when he’s around her.

“And she’s not the same around him,” admitted Daphne, “She takes things more seriously but also she seems to forget about everything to do with… well you know.”

Daphne smiled sadly.

“They need it,” Harry said, “You know how Draco hates how he's never beaten me at anything. We can give him a great memory connected to the day he spent with people who were leaning towards our side, with good people. We can give her a day where she gets to just forget everything.”

Daphne smiled at him, “You’re pretty cool, you know that?” she said,

“I try,” replied Harry dryly. “Okay, so here’s the plan. If they haven’t beaten us on their own yet when Tracey calls “thirty seconds left” I’m gonna slip and you tip too. We’ll give Astoria an opening.”

“Got it.”

Everything went exactly as planned. They still followed Daphne’s initial tactic at the beginning, when Astoria and Draco tried their previous trick, they couldn’t make it look like they let them win. Yet soon the last thirty seconds were called, and when Astoria and Draco successfully pushed Daphne off Harry’s shoulders Draco yelled his initial victory, beaming. Once Astoria was off his shoulders, he turned to face Harry, still smiling, but with a dubious look in his eyes, looking to see how Harry would react to his loss.

“Yes! I finally beat you!” Draco said.

“I know, I can’t believe it,” Harry said, looking truly miffed. “So f*cking close, well done though.”

Astoria was already out of the pool, running around it, both fists in the air, and was yelling “We are the best, Team Demon Dragon is victorious! Bask in our victory, mwahahahahahahaha!”

She kept running until she was completely out of breath and had to sit down.

Draco and Harry’s eyes met, and neither spoke as they gauged each other and then Draco stuck out his hand to offer a handshake.

“Well played Scarhead,” he said, smiling.

“Well played Funblood,” Harry replied, matching his smile.

“Everyone! Come and grab some plates! The barbecue is ready!” Ellanore cried from the kitchen doorway.

Draco nodded at him, before turning and getting out of the pool to follow the others, who were walking back to the seating area where a large stack of plates and some cutlery had been placed. Only Harry and Daphne remained in the water and he turned to her.

“That was such a good idea, you are amazing sometimes, you know that?” Daphne complimented.

“Only sometimes?” Harry replied with a smirk.

“Hmm, we’ll see,” Daphne replied, before stepping directly in front of him. Gently reaching up for his chin, she kissed him softly. It lasted only five seconds or so, but it felt divine, and Harry, who’d wrapped his arms around Daphne's bare waist, was amazed by how soft her skin felt, even underwater.

“Come, on” Daphne replied, “Let’s go grab some food, I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Harry admitted, “You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Why?” Daphne asked curiously.

“Well, hot girl, recently with legs wrapped around your head, then goes and kisses you, wearing not that many clothes…”

“Ah,” said Daphne blushing madly while glancing down at the front of his shorts, “Well, at least I know you like me.”

Harry snorted as she turned to get out of the pool, and he watched the water dripping off her as she pulled herself out of the water. What he didn't expect to see was Susan, already sitting eating her food, looking at Daphne with a face like thunder.

Chapter 11: The Party - Part Three

Chapter Text

Susan didn’t talk to anyone all the way through dinner, not even to Hannah, who’d begun to come out of her shell a bit and spent the time chatting with Blaise and Neville about her Crup, Jellybean. She said he was so loyal and affectionate that she’d nearly asked to bring him today, but wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea, because he liked to chew anything he could get his mouth around.

Daphne had summoned a sheer black sarong from her bedroom window to keep her covered. It was still warm outside, as it was just after six pm in the middle of the summer, but soon the temperature would dip when the sun started to go down. When her mum had called them all out of the pool for dinner, she’d gotten back to the table to find its stock had changed to more actual dinner fare than the snacks that had been there all day. They each picked up plates and grabbed what they liked. Daphne made a burger for herself, grabbed a couple of sausages and had a bit of coleslaw and potato salad. She didn’t know whether or not anyone would want to go back in the pool later, so she thought she better not eat anything too heavy.

Rather than everyone eating around the table together, the gang split into three groups while they ate dinner. Harry, Daphne, Neville, Tracey, Draco and Astoria still all sat around the table, Susan, Hannah and Terry went to sit by the pool, while Blaise, Pansy and Millicent sat on the deckchairs near the seating area. Eventually, though, everyone gravitated back to the seating area once one of the Greengrass house elves, Mitsy, came to clear away any empty crockery and used cutlery from the table. Soon after, the table was refilled with treats, drinks, and even bowls of Daphne’s favourite, strawberry ice cream.

Daphne took a sip of yet another glass of lemonade and sighed. It had been such a good day, but she wanted the party to keep going. She didn’t want everyone to have to go soon.

“I wish we had something else to drink apart from this stuff.” she said, voicing her thoughts aloud, “There’s only so much lemonade I can drink.”

Pansy smiled and gave a devious smirk before she got up from the bench and ran around behind it to get to where she’d left her bag. Crouching down while rummaging through her bag, she started rising slowly and asked “Ah but would you like lemonade wiiiiiith Vodka!” As she reached her full height, she was now holding two large clear glass bottles aloft.

“Yes Pansy!” said Daphne, cheering, “But… let's not go too mad yeah? I don’t want people vomiting everywhere. Astoria’s only thirteen and… to be honest, I better ask my mum first.”

“Okay,” Pansy said sadly as her arms dropped disappointedly, thinking there was no point getting the bottles out now.

Daphne got up from the table and walked back into the house to talk to her mum, who eventually she found in her father’s office calculating some expense reports. She looked up as Daphne entered.

“Is everything okay?” Ellanore asked, before appraising her daughter's outfit and giving her a sideways look, “That’s not the bikini you showed me the other day.”

“I know, Tracey got me this specifically for the party,” she lied, “I’d forgotten to tell her I’d already been shopping.”

“Ah, I see, what’s up?”

“Pansy brought vodka, can we have some?” Daphne asked, trying to give her most innocent expression.

She got up from the desk, which was littered with bottles of ink, quills, books and scraps of parchment, and stepped around the front of it before leaning on its edge. She looked at her daughter for a couple of moments, thinking, before she spoke.

“I’ll allow it, but you have to follow some rules.” she said “There’s some shot glasses in the kitchen, you can take one of them and only one. You use it to measure the alcohol. The drinking glasses that are already out there are big enough, use the scouring charm on them to get them all clean if they aren’t. You pour one measure of vodka from the bottle in each glass, and whatever a drink will be mixed with must go up to at least two fingers width from the top, got it? Every time.”

“Got it,” Daphne said, smiling at her mother. She’d always get away with stuff when her father wasn’t home.

“Promise me, Daphne,” she said, holding up a finger at her daughter’s eye level, “Every single one, and no more than two drinks per person per hour. Bigger boys like Harry will be fine, and you've always been allowed a bit of alcohol now and then with family dinners but some like that little Hannah girl might not have any tolerance.”

“I promise,” Daphne agreed.

“Good,” Ellanore said, tucking a strand of hair behind her before resting each hand behind her on the edge of the table.

“So how are things going with Harry?” she asked.

“Amazingly,” Daphne said enthusiastically.

“That well, huh?” Ellanore replied with surprise, “You’ve warmed up to him fast.”

“I really like him, mum… I kissed him. I…might want to move things faster…I've never had a boyfriend and he’s just…”

“You kissed him? My, my that is faster.” she said, just happy to see her daughter relaxed, happy and acting like the young woman she was and not being all consumed by her relentless determination to save her sister, “Are you sure?”

“He bought me this necklace,” Daphne replied, looking downward.

“I had wondered,” Ellanore said, getting up and walking to her daughter to gently pick up the necklace in the palm of her hand. “Is that real goblin silver?…oh, and a Lily, like his mother, it’s beautiful, Daphne.”

“I know,” Daphne said, smiling dreamily, “And that's not all mum, hold on.”

She raised her wand and summoned the letter from her bedroom which arrived a moment later.

“Here,” Daphne said, handing her mum the letter. “There’s something inside the Lily, It’s a locket. Read this.”

Ellanore sat back down again on the edge of the desk and began to read. By the end she found her hands were shaking as tears dropped onto the parchment.

“I…I don't know how we didn't think of this, Daphne, but still, this will have been really expensive and… it's just so thoughtful and… oh Merlin it will just help us with Astoria so much and…”

And then she burst into laughter-filled tears. Daphne, with tears in her eyes herself, walked over to her mother and wrapped her in a hug.

When she pulled away, Ellanore placed both hands gently on her daughter’s face.

“Now listen, Daphne,” she said, “I know you already really like him, but you cannot mess this up. If this necklace that he bought you will work three times that will give us at least another year and a half with Astoria before it has to be re-glyphed. Re-glyphing usually costs only marginally less than the original stone, about ten thousand galleons. While we have more than enough money to pay for more at any one time we are not usually that liquid. We will be able to sell the stocks in time in a normal world but we have no idea what will happen in this economy with the Dark Lord’s reincarnation. I don’t want you to be a golddigger but, let's just say House Slytherin is very rich and Harry seems to care for you. He does not believe in arranged marriages, so you are going to have to make him want to marry you.”

”Mum,” Daphne said, taken aback and stepping away from her mother’s embrace, “I can’t do that, I can’t use him for his money.”

“Do you want your sister to die?” Ellanore asked.

“That’s not the point, I don’t think it would matter. If I asked him, I think he might pay for a re-glyphing anyway.”

Ellanore’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You think he feels that strongly for you already?”

Daphne gave a sad smile, “I think he would do anything to bring back his own family, so he will do anything to save mine.”

“So,“ Ellanore said, “Be with him then, marry him if you want to. It wouldn’t do to fall out with him, but I guess his money will just be a bonus, a wonderful, potentially life-saving bonus. I guess we’re choosing a side much sooner than we planned. I’ll talk to your Father, but don't tell him this: He's told me he's going to be staying late at the Higgs working on some new inventory. I'd planned to kick everyone out at ten, after a little surprise I’ve got planned. Harry, Tracey and one person of her choice can stay til eleven. They can’t stay over though, Harry has a big day tomorrow.”

Daphne beamed, and already knowing Tracey’s choice, she said “It will be Neville.”

“I’ll owl Augusta then, though you might want to talk to Harry as there may be people worried about him if he’s home late. I’m aware his mail is being redirected and the Floo is locked until ten, but you could walk round to the gates with him and he can call a house elf if he’s got one and pass a message that way.”

“Good idea,” Daphne replied, turning to leave.

“Have fun,” Ellanore called, “I love you.”

“Thanks, Mum, I love you too,” said Daphne before she left the office.

Tracey was already waiting for Daphne when she walked back into the kitchen.

“What did she say?” Tracey asked with tentative excitement.

“She said yes, we just gotta follow some rules.”

“YESSSS!” Tracey cheered, “I’m gonna go get your wireless, DJ Mystic will be on soon, what timing! Is it in your bedroom?

“No, it’s in the library still, doors shut,” Daphne replied

“Drat can’t summon it,” said Tracey, “Okay, back in a minute,”

“To make sure she kept her mum's promise, she took the vodka bottles from Pansy, Daphne made sure to pour all the drinks in the kitchen so the party didn't turn into a free-for-all. She’d just finished pouring the first couple of drinks when Tracey came down with the radio, and so after Tracey finished helping her, they both walked out carrying two laden trays.

That was when the real party started, everyone grabbed a drink (Daphne had poured two each) and Tracey switched on the wireless and turned the volume to full blast. Instantly the sound of a radio host filled the patio area.

“Aaaaaaaand welcome back to Magic FM at 7 o’clock. I’m your host for the next three hours, DJ Mystic. I'll be playing the best hits of the last decade, including The Weird Sisters, Prince Charming and The Funky Boggarts. We've got a lot of great songs to get through tonight so stay tuned. First up, we've got a new track from Lyra Morningdew, it's called Heartfire. I think you're gonna like it, catch you in a few!”

Then the music started, it was a groovy, drum-heavy track with funky clean electric guitar chords and a walking bassline.

Drinks were raised in a toast led by Harry, “to Daphne” and then the dancing began.

They all danced together in a circle for just over two and a half hours. When the drinks ran out, Daphne and Tracey would go and make more. At one point, Daphne took Harry, Neville and Tracey to one side and explained to them her mum’s plan for the rest of the evening and that she thought Harry might want to let someone know he was staying out so late, and how he might do it. Harry agreed and Tracey said she would make the last drinks for everyone instead while they were gone, and promised to stick to Ellanore’s rules.

Harry and Daphne walked back in through the house, out the front door, down a long path to the front gates, holding hands and just talking about the day so far. They got to the front gates and Harry called for Kreacher.

Daphne was taken aback by how old and downright wizened the house elf was when he popped into existence.

“Master Sirius said I should come to the filthy half-blood's aid,” the house elf said, “But I don't see why he needs it. This is a House of noble standing, Kreacher can feel it.”.

“Well thank you for coming, Kreacher,” Harry said tightly, “Please tell Sirius that I will be home at or just after eleven o'clock, that I am completely fine, and he doesn’t need to wait up for me.”

“Kreacher will do this,” Kreacher nodded, before making a grotesque-sounding cough to clear his throat, “Is there anything else?”

“No.”

Kreacher bowed to Daphne and popped away.

Harry turned to look at Daphne, ready to make their way back to the party.

“You're staying with Sirius Black!” Daphne asked, eyes wide in shock. Her mind was racing.

“I am,” Harry replied, looking at her cautiously.

“You could get sent to Azkaban for that if Fudge gets his way,” said Daphne, worried. The fact that Harry was staying with the man didn’t bother her, she knew if he wasn’t innocent he wouldn’t have pushed for the trial in the first place. Still, Harry had only had one win in the Wizengamot, and Fudge was notoriously manipulative. He wouldn’t be Minister if he wasn't.

“He won't, I will prove his innocence tomorrow,” Harry replied.

“You're sure?” said Daphne with a concerned frown,

“I'm certain.” Harrys said confidently “I've got more than a few surprises up my sleeve, but…” Harry paused, thinking, “Tell your Dad to wear dragonhide under his robes tomorrow if he has any.”

“He has a waistcoat. Why, will he be in danger?” said Daphne, he might have assuaged her concerns a little about his success tomorrow, but this was a whole new thing.

“One of my surprises may make spells fly in the courtroom,” Harry warned.

“I see. Okay, I'll tell Mum to get it ready for him when he comes in.”

Daphne was still concerned, but she took his hand again and they began to stroll back up the front garden path. She knew when she decided to try to get close to him that there was a risk of her family being in some danger, but, she reasoned, there was always going to be danger in the war. At least they were picking the right side.

“I showed my mum your necklace, you know,” Daphne said, ”It was far too expensive, Harry, if it wasn’t such an amazing gift for me and my family I never would’ve been able to accept it.”

Harry smiled, “I get that, but I’m glad I got it for you.”

“So am I.”

They walked a little further for ten or so seconds in companionable silence, just enjoying the feeling of walking hand in hand together. Harry was making sure to look forward, as he caught himself staring at Daphne’s breasts when he’d turned his head to talk to her, distracted as they moved when she walked, jostling in their waterproof red prison.

“Harry I… can I be honest with you?” Daphne asked, feeling nervous. She needed to have this conversation with him but was terrified it ruined everything.

“Of course you can,” Harry said, pausing their stroll and turning to her.

“Your gift… made my mum cry…happy tears of course. It’s so valuable to our family, even if you weren’t there to help with the ropes, it’s an extra one and a half years of Astoria’s life you’ve given us. It’s invaluable. It's priceless. But still, it’s only one and a half years, yet you’ve given my mum, my whole family the hope that if we were to get the stone re-engraved we could extend Astoria’s life further. We’re well off, but all our money is in stocks and shares and bonds, and we only sell what we need to. It might be a lot more difficult for us to pay for the re-glyphing if You-Know-Who f*cks the economy. Mum wanted me to get closer to you just to see if you would consider helping to pay for more re-glyphings, but… I don’t want to. Not because I don’t want to get closer to you. I really, really do but -”

“I’ll pay for it,” Harry interrupted, without hesitation.

“What?!” Daphne said.

“I’ll pay for it, I would’ve done even if today, even if this amazing time with you hadn’t happened. I knew how valuable the stone would be when I worked out the potential use for it. You don’t know what I would give for me to spend even a day with my Mum, or my Dad. Knowing that I’ve got the means to pay for something that could do that for you, well let's just say money is no object, not when you and your family are such good people.”

“Thank you, but I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Daphne replied, feeling tears beginning to escape her tear ducts. Harry reached a hand to wipe them away before he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. It tasted salty.

“You aren’t,” Harry said, “I was always going to offer if you’d asked.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course,”

“Okay…Daphne said, “Now I promise you that what I’m going to ask you next has absolutely nothing to do with that and just so you know I’ve been thinking about asking this all day. I promise I’m not asking you this just to save Astoria, but because I want to.”

“Okay…?”

“I know this is fast, but you’ve surprised me at every turn, ever since that day in the library. You’re always kind and you make me want to be as strong as you are. Also, I want to spend a lot more time kissing you, if that’s okay. What I’m saying is I wanna be your girlfriend,” Daphne said, then concerned she might’ve pushed a little hard there, added “If it's too much too soon, I understand, but - “

“Stop,” Harry said, “I would love that.”

“Really?” Daphne said, surprised, her eyes shining. She’d been convinced he’d want to spend more time “courting” first.

“Are you kidding? Besides the fact that you’re the hottest girl in school, you make all the big scary problems in the world not feel so scary anymore. When you look at me like that I feel like I’m strong, I feel…I feel like I can do anything. So yes, let's be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Eeee!” said Daphne, launching herself into his arms in a hug. She lifted her head off his chest and then kissed him soundly. It wasn’t as hormonal and lust fuelled as their first kiss had been, but instead, soft, caring and happy. The reason they broke apart after only a couple of seconds was because both of them thought it was cute and funny that they could feel the other smiling through their kiss.

“Let’s go back,” said Harry, beaming “Do you wanna tell everyone?”

“Not yet,” said Daphne, “I don’t wanna rub it in Susan and Terry’s face too much.”

“Get another couple of drinks in me and I might not be able to not kiss you though, just letting you know now,” Harry smirked.

“Oh no, how terrible,” was Daphne’s sarcastic reply before her equally sarcastic sigh, “I guess we’ll just have to cross that despicable bridge when we get to it.”

As they walked back into the atrium, an antique grandfather clock read half past nine. They walked into the kitchen, and the party was in full swing. Tracey had left their drinks on the side in the kitchen so they wouldn’t get stolen, so they grabbed them and headed outside.

With a couple more drinks inside them all, the party was getting a little more energetic and Harry and Daphne both went to join in the dancing. He wasn't very good, but Harry tried to move to the music. It wasn't very long, only a song or two until Harry took a swig of his drink and realised he needed to use the bathroom. He could hear the music while sitting on the toilet and heard several of the gang singing along. He felt like he was missing out so he flushed the loo quickly and started to walk briskly back outside. He got to the open doorway and saw the whole group still dancing, but Terry was standing directly behind Daphne, and standing way too close to her. She tried to move away, but he moved closer and then reached out and squeezed Daphne’s ass.

Harry saw red, but Daphne was there first, shouting “What the f*ck?!” and spinning on the spot before slapping Terry around the face. Harry, not noticing the increasing heat of the pendant around his neck, was already marching out of the door, wand in hand. Terry and the rest of the group didn't notice him with their attention directed at him and Daphne.

“Hey, what did you do that for?” Terry asked, frowning, gesturing up and down at her, "It was just a bit of fun, you’ve been flirting with me and teasing me all day in that little bikini”

Daphne pushed him again, snarling with steel in her eyes, she snapped, “Fun for you maybe, how dare you come into my house and grope me without my consent. If you didn’t notice, I picked Harry, not you.”

“Don't f*cking push me! Let's see how you like being slapped!” Terry shouted, raised his hand high…and froze completely still.

At first, Harry didn’t even know how he’d done it, he’d raised his wand and had been about to cast an Immobulus, wanting to stop Terry where he stood, but then instinct, based on pure intent, took over. He felt the heat from the pendant around his neck and realised it was taking his emotions and using them to turn his intent to magic without even an incantation. It wasn’t even quite the same spell, it felt much more potent. He was furious and gritting his teeth angrily, his wand still pointed at the completely still Terry, who could only breathe and move his eyes. Blaise, who’d always loved this sort of excitement was eager to watch the situation play out he turned off the radio, leaving the party in complete silence from shock.

Harry flicked his wand toward himself and then upwards, pulling the frozen Terry floating towards him and raising him from the ground, his eyes wide with fear.

Daphne, Tracey, Neville and Susan ran to Harry’s side.

“Harry, mate, you need to calm down,” said Neville, holding both of his arms up.

“Not until he knows not to cross me,” Harry growled.

“He knows, Harry, we’ll just send him home. Your eyes are glowing and I can feel the magic coming off you. You could hurt him.” said Tracey, worried.

“And that would be bad, why?” Harry asked, staring intimidatingly at Tracey, “Are you saying we should just let him sexually assault girls and let him get away with it?”

“I’m not saying that, no,” said Tracey, swallowing.

Daphne said nothing, she didn’t want to intervene, not after Flint. As long as Harry didn’t kill him, he would get what he deserved for ruining her party.

It was Susan who made Harry see reason, she said, “If you hurt him then he could report you to Aurors, who could feasibly have you in a holding room all day tomorrow, making you miss Sirius’s trial. His father has connections.”

Harry took a slow breath to calm himself but kept Terry floating in front of him and said, “I won’t hurt him. Are any of his belongings anywhere.”

Daphne walked up to Terry and checked his pockets.

“He didn’t bring anything but his wand, and that’s still on him,” she said.

Harry started walking back and forth, keeping his wand pointed at Terry to keep him in the same position, thinking hard. After several seconds of thought, he spoke, with venom.

“Well done, Heir Boot, for gaining your ejection from a wonderful party. We aren’t going to let you ruin our night, but you will regret this. I’ll be writing to both Cyrus and your father about what's happened. You will now be leaving, and as you ask Ellanore for your portkey you will explain what I have just told you as word for word as you can, and you will be apologising to her for groping Daphne without her consent. If you fail to do this, my letter to your father will advise him that he will be selling Cyrus his new shares in Nimbus that he recently bought - unless he wants this to be in the Prophet. “Boot Heir Disgusts in Pureblood Sexual Assault scandal” sounds like it would sell more than a few papers and I can easily get Rita Skeeter to write it. Either way, I will assure your father that I understand your behaviour is not a reflection on him and I will still value his respect and expertise within the Wizengamot. You will learn from this and I may forgive you when Daphne does. Now, f*ck off.”

Harry flicked his wand and Terry flew through the kitchen doors, which swung shut and locked. As Harry lowered his wand, he let out a big sigh of relief, but he was still angry.

Daphne stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around him, saying, “Thank you.”

“You know what, Harry, for someone who wasn’t put in Slytherin, that was what I would want to see from the Head of its House. Well done,” said Draco.

Harry turned and smiled, “Thanks Draco, I appreciate that.”

“Your eyes looked so cool Harry, they were like green fire or something!” said Astoria, “...Can you do it again?”

“I dunno how I did it, I was just mad,” Harry told her

“You know only Dumbledore has been seen with a visible aura in this century right?” said Pansy.

“That’s cool!” said Neville, “Harry you must’ve gotten wicked powerful. Maybe it’s your edge!”

“They did it that day, Harry. At the end of term,” muttered Daphne to him at his side.

“It is my emotions then…” Harry replied quietly, with a sad smile, empathising with her about a day when his eyes shouldn’t have had to glow in the first place.

“What?” asked Draco, confused.

“Just thinking,” Harry said.

“Well, stop thinking and keep drinking!” said Pansy, passing him his drink. He smiled at her much-needed distraction and it’s breaking of the tension and reached out for the glass.

The sun was almost set and Susan and Hannah said they would be going soon and nipped inside to ask for portkeys. Blaise, Millicent, Pansy and Draco did the same after they realised the party was over, not wanting to overstay their welcome, but they still had about twenty minutes to go, and now it was dark.

As those that were soon to be leaving emerged from the house with their portkeys, Ellanore came behind them floating a large red and yellow box in front of her.

No one had any idea what it was, but after a brief pause to hand portkeys to Neville and Tracey as well, she marched past them with it walking out past the patio area and onto the lawn behind before lowering it onto the grass. Then, she turned to address the group.

“Apart from that last little hiccough, I hope you've all had a lovely day. Don’t let it ruin everything. I’ve got one little surprise for you. Daphne darling, Happy Early 16th Birthday.”

She pointed her wand at the box, incanted “Incendio” and ran to stand next to them all. Moments later, dazzling fireworks began to light up the night sky. As they were standing side by side, Harry reached out and held Daphne by the hand. He looked at her, but she was transfixed on the sky and Harry could see a multitude of colours flashing and swirling in her beautiful eyes.

There were standard rockets in red and in white, as well glittering bursts of gold that swirled in concentric spirals and brilliant streaks of blue that shot across the sky but then split into blue and aqua waves that meandered in opposite directions before condensing and bursting like raindrops and then trailing all the way to the ground. The awe-inspiring fireworks show went on for ten minutes and concluded when one last shot of green streaked from the box, flying high into the sky. Leaves formed on the sides of the streak before it reached its zenith and exploded into a red and pink flower which rotated in the sky before the petals fell one by one before fading away.

Everyone clapped and cheered when the display was over. Ellanore went back inside while the group finished their drinks. Astoria was sitting on Draco’s lap, and he was wiping tears from her face; she didn’t want the day to end. Susan and Hannah left first, hugging everyone and thanking Daphne for the invitation before their portkeys spun them away. Pansy, Blaise and Millicent went next, and to Harry’s surprise, Blaise offered him his hand and said he would like to arrange for him to have a meeting with his mother to discuss a business proposition. Harry agreed, and after their farewells were over, they too, left.

Finally, only Draco was left to leave. He still had another ten minutes, but said he wanted to walk around to the front with Astoria so they could talk before he left. Before they did so though, he said goodbye to Neville and Tracey, thanked Daphne for the invitation and then turned to Harry.

“You surprised me today,” Draco said.

“We surprised each other,” said Harry.

“You understand I can’t be seen to be too friendly with you at school?”

“I do,” Harry replied, nodding, “But let's not be the same way with each other as before. We can stay civil because we respect our positions.”

“Agreed.”

“You’ve given me a lot to think about today and don’t worry. I will not discuss your glow with my father. Like you said earlier, you and I were perfectly cordial, but didn’t speak much,” Draco said.

“Barely even noticed you were here,” Harry said with a smile.

“Exactly,” replied Draco with a respectful nod, before he turned to Astoria and said, “Ready to go?”

She smiled sadly and nodded, before taking Draco’s hand. Astoria said she’d be going to bed after this and so they both called out their last goodbyes and walked back into the house.

Now only Harry, Daphne, Tracey and Neville remained, standing on the patio under a clear night sky. Even though it was now completely dark, it was still quite warm and neither Daphne nor Tracey felt any need to put a jacket on.

“And then there were four,” said Neville rubbing his hands together, “What do you wanna do next?”

“I dunno,” replied Harry, “Is there anything else to drink?”

“No more booze, it’s all gone,” said Daphne.

“Ah well.” sighed Tracey.

Behind them, some lights flared, dimly brightening the patio floor around them, causing the four of them to turn their heads. The hot tub was illuminated, bubbling and steaming. Daphne and Tracey looked up at the house, knowing the hot tub could only be turned on from the inside. Ellanore’s silhouette was in the warm yellow light of the library window. It waved and moved out of sight.

“Your mum is so f*cking cool sometimes,” Tracey said.

“I know right?” said Daphne excitedly, “How long have you got on the portkeys?”

Neville held his up, “She set it for half ten, so just over half an hour.”

“Same,” said Tracey, “Better be quick then.”

They all quickly agreed. It was much less effort for Daphne to disrobe this time, still having only the black sarong wrapped around her midriff, and they all quickly disrobed and stepped into the warm, bubbling water. Daphne and Harry sat on the higher seats, meaning most of their chests were out of the water. Neville and Tracey sat on the lower seats opposite, where the water came up to just below their shoulders, well, Neville’s shoulder, for Tracey the water came right up to the base of her chin.

“This is incredible,” said Neville, “I've gotta get one of these at home, though to be fair I don’t have much company over.”

“Yeah, I think it’s made much better with such great company,” said Harry.

“Hear Hear,” said Daphne.

“Besides, if you get one of these Neville I might even come over if your Gran will let me,” added Tracey.

“She wouldn’t even know, she’s barely there anyway,” replied Neville, excited at the idea.

“Even better.”

“Unfortunately I think my trust vault isn’t quite well funded enough, and Gran would call it a frivolous purchase so she wouldn’t give me money from the main Longbottom vault.” Neville sighed.

“But frivolous purchases are the best!” said Tracey,

“They are if they end up with a Tracey in my hot tub,” said Neville.

“Oooh, look who's grown some confidence today, I like it,” Tracey replied, reaching a hand up to Neville’s face before kissing him. When she pulled away he was blushing and nervous again. Tracey giggled. Harry smiled at the two of them, Neville had probably had his first kiss today now, too.”

“So, guys,” Daphne said with a big smile, “I've got an announcement, well, me and Harry do. We've decided to start dating. We're boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“YEEEEEESSS!!” cheered Tracey, standing up swiftly in the tub, splashing water all over Neville's face who spluttered at the sudden deluge as she launched across the water and hugged both of them at once

“I'm so happy for you both,” she called with her head between Harry and Daphne's shoulders.

“Me too," said Neville.

“Thanks, guys,” Harry said as Tracey sat back down. With their relationship out in the open Harry finally had the opportunity to wrap an arm around Daphne's waist in a hug while they chatted with their friends.

“What's gonna happen at school?” Tracey asked, “Are you guys gonna go public? I'll support whatever you want to do but it's a bit risky right now. Did you talk to your mum?”

“She's all for it, and if Harry's okay with it then I want to. If we didn't we'd never get a chance to actually be together. It would all be just dusty broom closets and empty classrooms.” Daphne replied.

“I wouldn't mind spending some time with you in a broom closet though,” Harry said quietly, turning his head to his new girlfriend.

Daphne blushed, pushed him on the shoulder and said, “We can do that as well.”

“Excellent.” was Harry's grinning reply.

“You know I'll help look after you in the common room, but fraternising with Harry could get a bit dodgy,” said Tracey.

“I can handle it,” Daphne replied with determination. She wasn't gonna let some Death Eater kiddie dickhe*ds stop her from living her life how she wanted.

“Plus, I'm Lord of House Slytherin now. I don't know what power that holds, but I bet it gives me some powers over the school, and at least over the Slytherins,” said Harry

“That's a good point,” admitted Neville.

“Plus, now Harry and Daphne are with each other, we could hang out more Neville, if you want,” added Tracey

“Sure,” replied Neville, smiling, “I'm not sure I know you well enough to ask you to be my girlfriend yet, though.”

“Give me time, I'll slither my way in.” Tracey replied with mirth, “Get it... Slyther-In.”

“Yes we all got it Tracey, well done, we all bow to your incredible humour,” replied Harry, deadpan, causing Daphne to burst out laughing.

“You're mean!” Tracey whined like a child, “Neville, get him.”

“Glowy-eyes who lived, no thanks,” Neville replied with a laugh.

She folded her arms in a fake huff, “Hmph,” she responded, “Some boyfriend you turned out to be.”

“Not your boyfriend,” Neville corrected.

“Not yet,” said Tracey smirking and playfully opening her eyes wide while tapping the fingertips of each hand together like a story villain with a nefarious plot

Neville rolled his eyes, but he smiled. He had to admit, he found Tracey really fun and she put him at ease.

The four spent the last ten minutes before Neville and Tracey's imminent departure chatting about their plans for the rest of the holiday. Neville was going to work on growing some Chinese Fighting Plants in his greenhouse, and Daphne and Tracey planned to spend most of the summertime together. When Harry was asked, he simply said, “Training, lots and lots of training’” and he left it at that. Soon it was time for them to leave and after Daphne and Tracey had decided on Tracey coming back tomorrow for afternoon tea, Tracey and Neville got out of the hot tub, casting drying charms on themselves, said their goodbyes and activated their portkeys.

Daphne had been standing in the hot tub waving Neville and Tracey off as they disappeared with their portkeys, but the moment they were gone the atmosphere changed. Alone in a hot tub under a starlit sky, Daphne turned back towards him and gave a bright but sultry smile. Harry took in the whole of her nubile form once more. With the way she was standing, her toned legs, mid-calf deep in the water, were spread slightly apart and the pale flesh of her inner thighs touched in a way that left an enticing gap between her legs and her core. His eyes roved up her stomach to her lovely, full breasts, regretfully encapsulated by the glittering bikini top. Their eyes met again. Daphne sat next to him and leaning forward, kissed him softly. She pulled back, and Harry lifted his toned arm around her shoulders. They both sighed as she lay on his chest and they lay there in silence for a minute, faces both fixed in soft smiles.

Daphne twisted so most of her weight was laid on Harry’s chest, and she lifted a hand and began to gently stroke her fingertips back and forth across his collarbone.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Harry said in a soft tone.

“Thank you for coming,” she replied, thinking how lucky she felt as she stared up at the starlit sky.

“I mean it, Daph.” Harry said, “I think…I think this has been the best day of my life.”

Daphne smiled widely and then passing her mind back over the entire day, said “I think it was the best day of my life too.”

They lay together for several more minutes, just basking in each other’s presence. Using his hand on the arm that was wrapped around her shoulder, Harry gently stroked and twirled his fingers through Daphne’s golden hair. She didn’t think she’d felt so content in her whole life.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “It’s been a good day. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves.”

“They did, for the most part, I think,” Harry replied, “Except for what happened near the end.”

Daphne’s lips tightened, she was still massively pissed at Terry’s behaviour, but she relaxed again as Harry kept stroking her hair.

“I’m glad. Astoria was happy too. And Draco. She’s gonna be bouncing off the walls for days.” Daphne said. “Ugh, it’s gonna get so annoying. Letting them win was a great idea though.”

“I know, it felt really good to do that for them.”

“It did.”

A brief pause in the night air passed between them.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Harry said.

“What, what for?”

“For how I behaved with Terry, I nearly took it too far and you were handling it just fine yourself. I should’ve let you fight your own battle but when he raised his hand to you, I just couldn’t stop myself.”

Daphne smiled and said, “It’s okay, actually it was…just the power you had, the control, the way you could just back down when you were so amped up and angry that you were literally glowing with power but stopped to think logically…and then you think up such a brilliant but benevolent end to his time here, where he but not his family would face consequences was just…”

She trailed off again, saying the words out loud only amping up what she was feeling. She exhaled heavily, her thighs squeezed tightly and shifted beneath the water.

“Just what?” Harry asked.

“Sexy,” Daphne replied, not bothering to hide her blush, “It was sexy.”

“Really? Me?” Harry said, not able to believe it. That was something he’d never even considered to be a description someone could attribute to him of all people.

Daphne tilted her head to look him in the eyes.

“Oh yeah,” Daphne said, needing him to know she was serious, “It was really sexy. I mean in general, I think you’re sexy, especially with your top off. Your chest is just so…yummy.”

“Yummy?” Harry asked, smiling in mirth at the word.

“Mhm,” Daphne said, biting her lip.

Even though she’d found herself doing it multiple times that day, Harry hadn’t seen it. He hadn’t seen her straight white teeth bite down on the corner of her scarlet bottom lip. It was incredible. He felt himself tighten completely. If he was sexy, what was she?

He couldn’t help it, he pulled his arm down her back from behind her shoulder and grasped one side of her waist while he reached his other arm around her to grasp the other. All at once, with the strength of his arms he picked her up and pulled her, sidesaddle onto his lap. This elicited a gasp from Daphne, who instantly brought her hands around his neck and locked his lips in a kiss. This wasn’t a soft kiss though, but a kiss of passion, of lust. With one arm behind her back to support her, Harry kissed her hard. It both of their breaths away, but Daphne gave as good as she got. As it became less hard and more passionate, their lips opened slightly and tentative tongues found one another, Daphne making a slight moan under her breath as they began to experience the new sensations of the French kiss. This didn’t stop for several minutes, but then the passion, the sheer need for each other began to increase and thus their desire for more. Daphne, unfazed by the hardness she felt in Harry’s shorts, couldn’t help but rock her hips, and Harry, who’d had his eyes tight shut, snapped them open when Daphne slowly slid the hand from the outside of her thigh, up her taut stomach and over the curvature of her breast.

He almost recoiled and pulled slightly back from the kiss with the shock of it, causing Daphne to break it entirely.

“Is that…okay?” she asked breathily.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, so enthusiastically he made her giggle, “Your body is amazing,”

“Just over my top though, I think. I’m not ready for more yet.” Harry smiled and nodded again, now with understanding before giving the plump flesh of her breast a gentle squeeze, marvelling at how soft and pillowy it felt. He ran a thumb over the front of the glittering fabric of the bikini top and Daphne gasped.

“Do that again,” she said with wide eyes. He did, and she ground ass her into him, making both of them breathe faster as Harry kissed her on the mouth and then slowly kissed down her neck.

“f*ck it,” she thought, marvelling at the sensations that Harry was sending from her neck and breast that seemed to be shooting straight down to her flower. Maybe I should let him put his hand under -

*Pop*

The sudden sound to the left of them made them freeze. They looked around. It was the house elf, Mitsy.

“Mistress Daphne, Mistress Ellanore has said that it is five to eleven and that it is time for Lord Slytherin-Potter to go home.”

They both sighed the moment over.

“Okay Mitsy,” we’re coming now,” Daphne said, “Thank you.”

They gave each other a sad smile at the moment lost and then got out of the pool. Once dry, they walked hand in hand back inside.

Before he stepped into the fireplace, she kissed him softly and wished him good luck for tomorrow. Then, he stepped into the emerald flames and disappeared, leaving Daphne alone in the atrium a wide smile plastered upon her face.

To his surprise, Sirius was waiting for Harry in the lounge when he emerged from the fireplace at Grimmauld Place, just as full of smiles as his girlfriend was many miles away.

“So, you dirty stop-out” Sirius asked tentatively, “How did it go?”

Harry couldn’t drop his smile, he was too busy thinking about the day that he’d had.

“Wow, that well, huh?” Sirius answered at Harry’s expression while getting to his feet, “Well come on, let's get to bed. Once I found out how late you’d be I brewed some pepper-up and a hangover potion for the morning in case you were a bit tipsy.”

Sirius left the room and Harry followed him up to bed. It really had been an incredible day.

Chapter 12: The Trial of Sirius Black

Chapter Text

A/N - I received a review on my last chapter stating that they enjoyed it but they didn’t expect it to turn into borderline p*rn. Let me just re-advise you all, this fic is rated “Mature” for a reason. You can expect violence, gore, explicit sexual scenes and other themes of a triggering or distressing nature. In terms of the lemons, I will make sure that I add a line before and after so those who do not wish to read them can skip through those sections. Anyway, on to the main event. Enjoy, and please leave a review.

Chapter Twelve - The Trial of Sirius Black

Four days before

Harry, Tonks and Sirius, who was in the form of Snuffles, walked up the path and into the gloomy and empty Hog’s Head pub. When Harry had sent a letter to Amelia Bones the previous night requesting a meeting before the trial, he hadn’t expected her to respond so quickly, or request to meet first thing in the morning. Nevertheless, they made the time and just after dawn, they knocked on the worn pine door of the pub. It was usually closed this early in the morning, but the door opened on its own at Harry’s knock and they entered.

The barkeep, Aberforth Dumbledore was behind the bar, cleaning glasses, and at first, the pub looked empty, but in a small alcove out of the way, they found Amelia Bones, with her kindly face and scraped-back scarlet hair waiting for them at a small table.

“Good to see you, Lord Slytherin-Potter, Auror Tonks, and your…dog,” Amelia said, curtsying Harry but giving Snuffes a confused look.

“Wotcher, Bonesy,” Tonks said with a cheeky smirk, earning her a warning look from her boss.

“Good to see you too, Lady Bones. This old dog… is Sirius.” Harry said. Amelia looked at him for a second like he was mad until Tonks spoke up,

“Looks like the coast is clear, Padfoot,” she said and so the dog shifted, the animagus form morphing and twisting until the smiling form of Sirius appeared in front of them.

“Hi Amy,” Sirius said, smiling mournfully, “It’s good to see you.”

Amelia’s look of shock morphed into a smile but quickly turned into a scowl, “I wish I could say the same thing. You’ve been the bane of my existence for the last two years,” she said.

“You can’t blame me for escaping though,” Sirius said with a hesitating look.

“That remains to be seen at your trial, but, I confess it is at least good to see that you’re well, at least,” Amelia said, her smile letting Sirius breathe a sigh of relief.

They all sat at the table together, and Harry, Sirius and Tonks explained the plan to prove Sirius’ innocence. Tonks had even brought some veritaserum with her, but after the initial, shorter explanation Amelia said she didn’t need him to take it. She said she believed him, especially with Harry being there, there was no way he would be if Sirius had really betrayed his parents. Still, Harry had insisted that they could use her testimony of witnessing Sirius speak under veritaserum and that it would be strong evidence in the courtroom. After they’d finished a much longer question-based discussion with Sirius having taken the truth serum, Harry, at Tonks’ urging, told Amelia briefly about his experiences with the Dursleys. It took a lot out of him, but Amelia was very sympathetic and promised she would keep things completely confidential. Unfortunately, with the trial and everything going on at the Ministry, she had a lot on her plate, so any further investigation on her part would need to wait until the winter, or late autumn at least. It seemed like the meeting was over, but Harry had more that he wanted to accomplish at the trial than just getting Sirius’ name cleared.

“Sirius, Tonks, what do you know of Little Hangleton?” Harry asked.

“ I know what happened to you there,” said Tonks, looking at him searchingly, before adding, “Caught a few young punks doing a spot of muggle-baiting last year as well, why?”

“I need you to do something for me. It will help us in the trial. Take this.” He placed on the table a small, gleaming metal icosahedron, about the size of a baseball, that he’d taken recently from the Chamber of Secrets’ library.

“Take it to the graveyard, tap your wand on the panel with the engraving of the Kenaz rune and wait. It will glow for about an hour. When it’s done, bring it home.”

“Can’t you do it?” asked Tonks.

“I…I can’t bring myself to go back there, but it will help me with what’s to come, and I need it to be done before the trial.”

“Do you need me for anything else?” asked Amelia.

“Yes, it's to do with this item,” said Harry, gesturing to the polygonal orb. “Have you ever heard of something called a Locus Memoriat before?”

“Of course, the legendary artefact. They’re priceless, only three have been known to have ever existed. They belonged, or belong to Nicolas Flamel, Paracelsus and Salazar Slyther- are you serious?” Amelia said, mind reeling with shock and anticipation.

“Deadly.”

“I will make plans.”

“I can use it to prove Sirius’ innocence as well.”

“Wow,” said Amelia, “We can get it all done in one day, just like you said. But you will need someone to verify that it hasn’t been tampered with, to verify it’s in good condition.

“That’s what I thought,” Harry said, “Even if we did use it someone could say it’d been tampered with and without verification, it could be argued the information provided is false. We need Nicolas Flamel, no, wait…we need Dumbledore.”

“Well it's a good job you’re at the Hog’s Head then,” said Aberforth Dumbledore, who was scrubbing another table nearby, “He’s in the castle and I’ve got a way of contacting him straight away.”

Aberforth walked over to a portrait of a girl that Harry didn’t recognise and spoke to her quietly. The girl smiled and walked into the background of her portrait before disappearing.

Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door and then it swung open, revealing the Hogwarts Headmaster in a fluffy, almost extremely orange dressing gown and slippers, who marched in, wand raised. He dropped it quickly.

“Oh, it’s not an emergency. Aberforth, when you ask Ariana to fetch me quickly at six thirty am you make me panic. Please give her a reason if you need to do it again.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be out of bed this early on a Sunday, what did you want me to do?” Aberforth said, his long grey beard visibly moving with the size of his amused smile.

Dumbledore huffed and rolled his eyes, before turning to the other four.

“Hello, Amelia. Harry, Tonks, Sirius, I didn’t expect to see you all today,” he said.

“We’re here about Sirius’ trial, Professor,” said Harry.

“I see.”

“How easy is it for you to get in touch with Nicolas Flamel?” asked Amelia.

“Nicolas? I’ve not spoken to him for a while, why do you ask?”

“We need an ancient artefact appraising for the trial that he has expertise in. If Sirius’ veritaserum testimony is rejected for some reason, we’re going to need a backup. Fudge has hired Lord Boots to represent the Ministry, and we all know he’s the best in the business,” Amelia replied.

“We do,” Albus said with a sigh, “He even managed to twist me up in knots in forty-six and he was just out of school then. What kind of artefact is it?”

“Oh, my dear Professor, can’t it be a surprise?” said Harry, eyes twinkling. He knew it would work. All his pandering, playing the part of his lapdog, his playing by Dumbledore’s rules, and even the unplanned memory that he’d given to him had led Harry to this. Dumbledore trusted him, and Harry’s lighthearted suggestion to let it be a surprise was playing on this grandfatherly position that he saw in his relationship with Harry. It was Salazar’s plan of course. Both he and Harry knew that if Dumbledore knew what the artefact was, then he would work out what Harry really planned to use it for, and if Dumbledore had wanted to, he could’ve accomplished the same effect himself with other methods. Harry didn't trust Dumbledore as far as he could throw him, but he was a Slytherin now, he needed to use his connections and keep the old man trusting him, at least for now.

“Oh, very well Harry, you have me intrigued. I can contact him for you. You can write to him if you like.”

“I’ve got a letter right here, Professor, I just need to write a name on it.”

Harry borrowed a quill and some ink from Aberforth and wrote Nicolas Flamel on the envelope, before handing it to Dumbledore, who looked at it.

“This is a very unusual seal, Harry, I’ve not seen one like it before.”

“Ah, that blasted thing,” said Amelia, “Took me half an hour to figure out how to open it. Maybe add a note, my Lord.” She looked over at Harry. Harry took back the parchment and wrote “Touch wand to seal to open” underneath the recipient’s name, saying “Good idea, Lady Bones, I hadn’t thought of that.”

It was something that had been a little project between Harry, Fred and Hermione over the last two weeks. It all came about when Harry had mentioned to Salazar’s Portrait the need for him to send confidential information to people that couldn’t be opened by someone else, or tampered with. Salazar had advised that before parchment, they used to use a special type of papyrus that could be soaked in an easily sourced potion, making it very difficult to get into without destroying the contents, and that when he was alive, they used a spell on a letter’s wax seal so that only the intended recipient could open it - by touching their wand to the seal itself. Tonks had managed to source some of the potion for him from Diagon Alley and when Fred had seen Harry doodling some very badly drawn ideas for a new seal for the combined Houses of Slytherin and Potter, he’d asked to use his art skills to get in on the fun. Harry really liked Fred’s design. It was a monogrammed letter “P”, with a strong serif, around which was a wavy circle in the shape of a snake, like on the external door to the Chamber of Secrets.

As she’d asked, Harry had given Hermione a book from the Chamber of Secrets on Arithmancy. It wasn’t confidential, just very old. It was entirely in Latin, and she’d had to purchase an English-to-Latin dictionary to read the contents. She had a brilliant mind, incredibly logical but Hermione wasn’t great at coming up with creative ideas herself, so after she’d said that she was finding the book interesting - it turned out to be a book on magical animation, Harry set her a project to take the spell he’d learned from Salazar and change it so that when the recipient touched their wand to the parchment. If it was the right person, the snake would slither around the circle before the seal disappeared.

After Harry had finished writing the directions on the parchment he handed it back to Dumbledore, asking “Do you think we will get a swift reply?”

Dumbledore chuckled, “We’ll send it by Phoenix, and dear Fawkes won’t leave without one. Plus he can be awfully petulant. Why, he singed the top of old Sluggy’s hair off once after the third day of not replying.”

“Excellent,” Harry replied.

A crack of the gavel sounded in front of Dumbledore as he called to his audience in courtroom one, also known as the Grand Auditorium.

“Order.” Dumbledore said, “Settle down, settle down. I know you’re all excited but we need to get started. Order!”

Another crack, much louder this time. Harry hated the sound, and so did the rest of the Noble Lords and Ladies as they all immediately fell silent and sat quietly.

“Bring in the accused,” Dumbledore called.

In this courtroom, there were only two exits. The large room, which was shaped like an amphitheatre, had a large dais where Dumbledore, the prosecution, the head of the DMLE, the Minister and the Undersecretary sat. This was separated from the wall, and the emergency exit was directly behind it. Around the wall, however, was the banked seating where the rest of the Wizengamot sat. As Harry was a Lord of the Great Seven, he was the only one allowed to sit in the front row. The main entrance was directly opposite the High Dais, as it was known, and halved the banking into two sides. Those of the Dark faction, officially known as the Pure Traditionalists, sat on the right (from their perspective in the room), while those of the Light, which was what they called themselves, sat on the left. Harry sat as close as possible to the centre on the right-hand side of the room, and so was seated right on the lower corner near the corridor that led to the main exit doors.

The large solid oak and intricately ruined double doors opened and Sirius Black walked in, guarded by Mad-Eye Moody. Sirius took his place on the seat in the centre of the room.

“Lord Sirius Black, you stand before the Wizengamot today on the highest of days. This Annual Solstice Session has been adjusted from its usual procession to prioritise your lack of trial. For this, the Ministry offers its apologies. However, before any recompense will be made, a trial must be held. So I say before you now, Lord Sirius, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, you stand before us today accused of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and the murder of twelve muggles on the thirty-first of October, Nineteen Eighty-One, as well as for aiding and abetting the Dark Lord Voldemort by disseminating information which led to the finding and murder of Lady Lily Potter, Lord James Potter, as well as the attempted murder of their son, then Heir Harry James Potter. The main doors are sealed to prevent your escape. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, Chief Warlock,” Sirius said.

“Very well,” said Dumbledore, “Do you have representation.”

“I do, I will be represented by Lord Harry Slytherin-Potter.”

Whispers broke out at that. Even though Harry was emancipated, this was the biggest trial of the century, no one of his age had ever presided over a trial of this calibre. Harry got to his feet.

“Lord Slytherin-Potter,” Dumbledore said, “Please present your evidence.”

Harry nodded and asked, “First, I would like to question Lady Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE, Chief Warlock.”

“Very well, begin your questions.”

Harry then began to question Amelia, who testified to the meeting at the Hogs Head three days prior and explained Sirius’ version of the events of that night many years ago. To say her words had an effect wouldn’t even come close to describing it. Albus had to call “Order” several more times when there was raucous shouting around the courtroom. When they had finally settled down, however, Albus called for cross-examination of the witness. Lord Boot, the head prosecutor for the trial, essentially advised that while Amelia’s word was likely true, she had most likely heard lies, as it was likely that Sirius had simply taken an antidote to Veritaserum before the meeting. It was worth a shot, Harry supposed, but really it was just a red herring. They would think he would lead with his main piece of evidence. When Dumbledore asked if he had anything further to present, Harry stood up from his seat once more.

“I have placed something that I can use to provide further evidence, Chief Warlock, in the rear exit behind you, may I retrieve it?”

“You may.”

A minute later Harry returned carrying what looked like a very large ornate golden standing lamp. At its tip, a large sphere glowed, and at the base was a golden box, covered in thousands of tiny runes. Harry placed it between Sirius and Dumbledore before projecting his voice to the courtroom.

“This is the House of Slytherin’s Locus Memoriat,” Harry said to an instant chorus of whispers. He reached into his pocket and removed the small, shining icosahedron. “The Locus is able to capture the memories of a place, using the magic within everything, and that magic itself’s collected memory can be displayed for us all to see. Within this device, I have collected the memories of the Shrieking Shack on the night when I first met Lord Black, over a year ago. I will use it to prove my Godfather is innocent.”

Lucius Malfoy stood up from his seat.

“The Wizengamot recognises Lord Lucius, of the Ancient House of Malfoy,” Dumbledore said.

“A truly impressive device, I’m sure Lord Slytherin-Potter, and while it does have a history of being used in this courtroom, it hasn’t been seen for over a thousand years. We cannot be sure that it even works, or that anything it projects will be the truth.” Lucius said.

“I thought you might say that, that is why I brought a very old friend to visit. Harry called to the main door, “Nicolas, please come down.”

More whispering came as the very old form of Nicolas Flamel stepped down from the witness seats, which were on the top row, high at the back of the courtroom. Albus smiled at the sight of his old friend, and after several minutes of questioning, Nicolas had verified that the device was in full working condition and gave a small description to those who didn’t know about the device about how it worked. The internal shape of the capturing device contains a series of completely reflective polygons, he explained, which concentrates the memory’s form from which the main device pulls it upwards and would project it with a predetermined space decided by the Locus’s operator. He advised them that it was impossible to tamper with a place’s memory, as until the memory is captured it is without form and once captured held within a sealed container that is surrounded by lead and then goblin-forged iron. When the seal is opened again the memory no longer has form, so it instantly becomes nothing and therefore it would be impossible to interfere with the memory at all.

Lord Boot sat tight-lipped where he sat. Harry caught Cyrus’ eye, who gave him a little smile from his seat, two seats to the right and one row up from Harry’s, near the staircase leading down to the floor.

Now that it had been established that the Locus Memoriat was in working condition, Harry stood, approached it again and bending down, opened the door at its base before placing the icosahedron inside. He asked Sirius to step to the side so he wouldn’t be stood within the memory projection.

Harry shut the door, messed with some dials on the side, and then tapped it with his wand. The glowing “bulb” at the top of the device flared into life and a large white translucent dome appeared over half of the circular “arena” at floor level in the room. With Harry still inside the dome, he played with the dials some more and it enlarged to fit the size of the entire floor-circle. He gave it one more tap with his wand and the dome disappeared and was replaced by a smaller, miniaturised version of the inside of the Shrieking Shack.

For close to an hour, the courtroom watched the events that took place in the shack at the end of Harry’s third year. They gasped when Peter Pettigrew’s true form was revealed and Dumbledore had to ask the throng to be quiet so the miniature Harry, Lupin, Ron, Hermione, Snape, Sirius and Peter Pettigrew could be heard. The courtroom couldn’t believe it, Pettigrew wasn’t dead after all. When everyone had left the Shrieking Shack, there was no point watching the memory anymore and the courtroom sat in silence as Harry deactivated the Locus.

“I don’t think we need to see any more evidence, do we,?” said Albus Dumbledore, “The evidence that Peter Pettigrew is alive, that he was the secret killer and that he killed those muggles is incontrovertible. The memory of a location cannot lie. All those wishing to vote Lord Sirius Black as innocent, raise wands and cast Lumos.”

There was no point for even those who didn’t want Sirius declared innocent to not vote for his freedom now. It would only draw attention to themselves and so by unanimous vote, Sirius was declared innocent and pardoned.

As there were standard rules in place for recompense for incorrect imprisonment, Sirius was given ten thousand galleons for each year since the trial, including the time he had spent outside of Azkaban as he was still unable to live free. This amounted to a hundred and thirty thousand galleons, the biggest payout that the Wizengamot had released to one witch or wizard for over five hundred years. After the proceedings were completed, Sirius took his seat next to Cyrus as Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Of course that was after he gave his godson a bone-crushing hug and thanked him profusely.

Now that the trial was over, the Wizengamot was ready for the main part of the session to begin, usually starting with declarations of upcoming marriages, alliances and acknowledgements of oaths of fealty. Sirius gave Harry a squeeze on the shoulder, and whispered in Harry’s ear, “Heads’ up pup, Fudge’s got something up his sleeve, it’s not over yet.”

Harry looked over at the High Dais, where Lord Boot was whispering quickly in Fudge’s ear.

Albus Dumbledore stood up once more.

“Now that the trial portion of today is over, we will commence the main traditions of the solstice -”

“Excuse me, Chief Warlock,” said Lord Boot, getting to his feet to the left of the Headmaster, “We have something else to raise concerning the case.”.

“Very well, what would like to discuss?” said Dumbledore.

“I would like to question Lord Slytherin-Potter.” Lord Boot stated.

Harry got to his feet, smiling. Hopefully, this line of questioning would be exactly what he expected.

“Yes, Lord Boot, how can I help?” Harry asked.

“The memory you presented by your Locus Memoriat is locked to only one location, is that correct?” Lord Boot asked.

“That is correct,” Harry confirmed.

“And you were very angry at Peter Pettigrew when you found out that he was the one who betrayed your parents?”

“Of course I was, he was the cause of their deaths? Why ask such a ridiculous question?”

“I’m doing the questioning.” Lord Boot said, stiffly, “Would you agree that as the Locus is only locked to one location that there is no proof of what happened afterwards to Peter Pettigrew after you, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger escorted him from the Shrieking Shack.”

“The information given by Amelia Bones on Sirius’ Veritaserum testimony is exactly correct as to what happened, my Lord.”

“But you cannot prove it.”

“I cannot, I could however call in witnesses who will also attest to what happened?”

“These would be the words of a known werewolf and two Hogwarts Students, those two students who are also known to be your best friends and the werewolf who not only turned on that night but was also shown in the memory to be furious at Peter Pettigrew, would they not?”

“Yes. They would not lie to this courtroom.”

“That is what you believe. I do not believe we can trust their evidence.”

“That is not for you to decide,” Harry replied, trying to remain professional.

“Cut to the chase,” called Fudge, “How do we know you didn’t kill Pettigrew yourself?”

“Aside from the fact that in the memory you explicitly heard me stop Lord Black and Mr Lupin from killing Peter Pettigrew and instead decided that we would escort him back to Hogwarts to meet justice at the hands of the Ministry’s dementors?”

“Yes,” Lord Boot, glaring at Fudge for interrupting his line of questioning. “How do we know you and your friends wouldn’t lie to cover up his murder? He as good as killed your parents, how do we know you didn’t look at the man in the moonlight and just boil over in fury as many would have? If he is still alive, surely you must know where he is.”

Harry said, “I don’t know where he is now but as I assure you, Lord Boot, he is still alive.”

“Prove it,” shouted Fudge.

“Very well,” said Harry, smiling menacingly. This was it. He’d done his job perfectly. Fudge was manipulative, but he was just too impatient.

Harry stood up and walked back to the Locus Memoriat, looked up and nodded at Amelia, who seemed to stiffen in her chair.

Harry adjusted one of the dials on the Locus, before removing another memory pod from his pocket and placing it in the machine. A chorus of murmuring began. They hadn’t been expecting another memory. People became uneasy, but Harry gave no warning about the memory he was about to display. He tapped his wand on the machine and it flared into life. He wouldn’t give the Death Eaters there a chance to try to escape or disrupt the machine and so he’d set it to display that night at the Graveyard at the exact moment that Lord Voldemort, already risen was surrounded by his followers. The miniature Harry was still trapped atop Voldemort’s grave and Wormtail cowered behind his newly risen master. The tiny body of Cedric Diggory lay lifeless and ten Death Eaters bowed at Lord Voldemort’s feet.

The courtroom gasped and some began to wail, as Lord Voldemort, calling their names one by one pulled off the masks of his inner circle of Death Eaters.

“Nott, Avery, MacNair, Crabbe, Goyle…even you, Lucius.”

A bright blue spell flew across the room and hit the Locus, knocking it onto its side. It began projecting its image on the far left curve of the wall, but thanks to built-in shields, it wasn’t destroyed. Harry had been ready for this, his wand in hand in his pocket, and he pulled it out instantly to cast a shield and begin a counterattack against whichever of the mentioned Death Eaters in the courtroom had fired at him. But it wasn’t any of them, it was Lord Yaxley who was at his feet and followed up his initial spell with a blasting curse that was quickly absorbed by the protego.

Many of the people in the courtroom screamed, some dived behind their chairs, while others tried to make their way to the unfortunately sealed main exit, crushing against the doors.

With the addition of Yaxley, the only Death Eater that had chosen to reveal himself, he made it up to seven opponents for those willing to take up arms to face.

Dumbledore, thinking first of the innocents next to him, quickly shielded from a rain of spellfire that erupted from the seats, not only against Harry’s rapidly raised protego but against those at the High Dais. He held a shield himself, and backed away from the Dais and towards the emergency exit, shepherding Lord Boot, Fudge and Umbridge through it as quickly as he could, his first duty being to protect the Minister’s life. Kingsley Shacklebolt sprinted down the left staircase to take some of the pressure off the main circular area where Harry and the Dais were. He quickly engaged both Crabbe and Goyle in combat, masterfully weaving a variety of charms that instantly had them both on the backfoot, but then MacNair joined in the fight and started turning the odds, shielding for Crabbe and Goyle who clearly had much experience in working together.

Sirius vaulted over the chair and forward rolled into the arena behind Harry’s Protego, which Harry increased in size to protect them both.

“Alright, there Harry, just like we practised eh?” Sirius called with a tight smile.

Harry nodded and quickly started to switch his shield between neutral and solid, firing through a variety of stunners, severing charms and blasting hexes, but it was very tough. Avery, Malfoy, Nott and Yaxley all still had the high ground, and none of their spells were getting through. Dumbledore appeared at his side, and was mid-conjure in bringing up a large stone wall between Harry and Sirius and the Death Eaters, before there was a scream and Kingsley fell to the ground, his leg totally shattered. This diverted Dumbledore’s attention and he went to try to engage Kingsley’s three attackers, while simultaneously trying to stabilise his friend at the same time. Unfortunately, the stone wall that Dumbledore had been raising from the ground was only about three feet tall, and Harry and Sirus dove behind it, a flurry of red and green spells streaking across the room above them.

Amelia, who’d been trying to use the dais as cover, concerned about her fallen colleague, rolled out from behind the platform and began casting quickly across the room, trying to cover herself through sheer volume of spells while she ran to Dumbledore’s side. She managed to stun Avery but the attention of Malfoy, Nott and Yaxley was now on her, and anticipating her path, Nott hit her with a well-aimed cruciatus curse before reeneverating Avery. She fell to the floor with an agonising scream.

Now, their attention was back on Harry and Sirius, and the stone they were hiding behind was heating up quickly. They would have to move out in the open any second, but they were right in the middle of the Auditorium, smack bang in the middle of the kill zone.

“f*ck this, Harry. f*ck Dumbledore,” Sirius said, “We go for the kill.”

“Harry nodded and then heard another voice nearby start casting.

“Who’s that?” asked Sirius.

Harry recognised it instantly. He’d only spoken to him yesterday.

“It’s Cyrus. He’s right at their side, we have to go now!”

Sirius and Harry dived in opposite directions from the wall. Harry was right, Cyrus was on his feet and was impressively holding his own against the Death Eaters, crouching behind the corpse of an unknown Lord who’d died still sitting in his seat.

Using the distraction, Harry slashed his wand in an arc and fired an incendio at Nott, whose robes instantly caught fire. Sirius followed up and levitated Nott high in the air before Harry cast a depulso and he flew backwards at speed, impaled on a metal brazier hanging on the back wall.

Yaxley turned his attention to the pair and sent an Avada Kedavra streaming towards Sirius, but speaking parseltongue, Harry conjured a small stone barrier of his own, instantly absorbing the curse. It shattered on impact and Sirius quickly followed up by reshaping the shards of stone into spikes and sending them flying back at the Death Eaters. Yaxley shielded all of the spikes, but Harry a saw stray one hit Malfoy in the leg, and he dropped to a knee in pain. Unfortunately, though, Cyrus was tiring quickly his shield no longer staying up and he was unable to move. He took three spells to the chest and Harry screamed as he saw him take a diffindo the the shoulder, completely severing his arm and taking him out of the fight.

Harry fumed, and he saw Sirius glance at him oddly through the corner of his eyes, but Harry was in the zone, and boy was he angry. The necklace heated up rapidly, and Harry twisted his wand, flicking it like a lash toward Yaxley, and flicked it quickly upward. Yaxley shot upwards at great speed, flying up high, smashing into the ceiling and dropping to the floor.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sirius took advantage of Avery and Malfoy’s momentary distraction at their stolen comrade and with a strong summoning charm, pulled Avery away at speed from Cyrus’s rapidly bleeding form and sending him soaring towards them. Harry, filled with rage, wanted the man to die quickly, to stop him from causing his girlfriend’s father any more pain, and raised his wand, thinking only to destroy. He jabbed his wand forward when Avery was less than a metre away, hissed in Parseltongue and the man’s head exploded into a pile of bone, brains and viscera. It was only Lucius Malfoy left, and Albus, his fight with Crabbe and Goyle now over, stunned Malfoy and bound him in thick steel chains.

Sirius let out a relieved sigh, but Harry ran over to Cyrus, who was getting paler by the second. Harry shoved Malfoy out of the way and crouched by Cyrus's side, the knees of his trousers quicking soaking in blood. The fight was over. All in all, it had taken less than five minutes. Sirius ran to Harry’s side.

“Harry we need to get him to St Mungo’s.”

“I’ve called for them,” said Dumbledore, but they may take some time getting here down the elevator.

“We haven’t the time,” said Amelia, “He’s bleeding too much. Does anyone have a blood replenisher?”

No one did, blood was pooling on the floor and starting to drip down the stairs.

“Harry…” Cyrus said, breathing heavily, “Tell my girls…tell them I love them.”

“No, tell them yourself,” Harry said, his mind flicking between despair and denial at what was happening. His mind was racing. He’d just killed a man, no, three Death Eaters, and accomplished all he’d wanted to do today, but this…. He imagined what he would say to Daphne, imagine her face when he told her what happened, that her father died when she’d known that he would be putting her father in danger at the session today. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t handle it. But what could he do? He’d just killed three Death Eaters, threw one into the back wall, one into the ceiling, and the other he’d exploded his head using a bone-breaking spell from Slytherin’s Parseltongue Medicine Boo-

“Wait,” Harry shouted to the room, “Get me his arm. GET ME HIS ARM!”

Sirius looked at him confusedly but moved immediately. He quickly found the severed appendage at the bottom of the stairs and threw it to Dumbledore, who caught it wandlessly and levitated it to Harry.

Harry swallowed. He hadn’t tried this spell. He’d only read about it, but it was his only chance, surely? He was just lucky that Avery had taken it off with a cutting curse and not anything that would leave any dark residue. He shoved the severed arm, which still had his shirt sleeve attached back onto Cyrus’ shoulder.

“Harry, my boy,” Albus said, “What are you doing? You’re glowing! We don’t even know the spell that-”

“Shut up! I know! I need to concentrate!” Harry screamed at Dumbledore, who fell silent.
Holding his wand closely to the meeting point between arm and shoulder, Harry hissed in parseltongue, trying to think of everything he’d learned about bone, circulatory and muscle anatomy. His wand glowed white and the flesh and bone began to knit itself back together. It was incredibly draining, but he held the spell for ten seconds while the spell was completed. When it was done, only a scar wrapping all around Cyrus’s shoulder was visible in between where his white shirt was torn,

Relief flooded through Harry and he sat back on his ankles. Cyrus then started laughing.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, guessing the laughter was just from relief,

“I will be,” Cyrus laughed but he was still breathing heavily, “I’m really dizzy… it's just funny… that’s another life debt,”

“Still not gonna ask to marry Daphne. I’ll vow it away again once you’re better.”

This made Cyrus laugh more.

“Thanks…for the heads up… dragon-scale…waistcoat. Guess it came in useful. That first spell he hit me with was a blood boiler…thank you.” Cyrus sputtered, before making a weak smile…”From what I heard yesterday…Daphne might not mind…if you asked for her hand, that is…you’re a good man, Harry.”

“You tell her if she wants to marry me, she has to ask me herself.”

Cyrus smiled. “Good answer…she will love that.” and then promptly passed out.

Minutes later, the doors opened and tens of emergency healers from St Mungo’s turned up. The meeting was over, and no one knew when the next Wizengamot date would be, but Sirius was freed, Cyrus was alive, and Harry’s plan had worked. No one would know what the consequences of today would be for a few weeks, but in the end, Harry could go home happy..ish.

Chapter 13: Consequences

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen - Consequences

Daphne put down her butterbeer and sat back on the deckchair. Today was exactly the same as yesterday, absolutely roasting, so Tracey and Daphne’s plan to have afternoon tea had turned into a catch-up over a few butterbeers.

“So, you asked him to be your boyfriend? Tracey asked, “Not the other way around?”

“Yeah.” Daphne, replied, matter-of-factly.

“Wow, I always thought it would be the other way round.”

“So did I, but I just thought that with him completely denying asking to marry me that maybe he wouldn’t make a move at all unless I asked him first. Or at least move quick enough at least.”

“That’s fair enough. So what happened after Neville and I left?” Tracey asked.

Daphne didn’t say anything, she just went bright red.

“Daphne, what happened?” Tracey asked again, sitting up and swivelling off the deckchair so her legs were on the floor and she was completely facing her friend.

“Nothing!” was Daphne's emphatic reply, but both of them knew she was lying.

“Yeah, right. You’ve just got your first boyfriend, who displayed a huge amount of intelligence and power which I know gets you hot, and you’re alone with him in the hot tub, what happened?”

“Well," Daphne said, not looking directly at her friend with her embarrassment, "He pulled me onto his lap and we just fooled around a bit that’s all.”

“Okay, now you have to spill,” Tracey said, taking a swig of her butterbeer and leaning forward.

“Well, okay. We were snogging and it was really good and then..." Daphne said, trailing off.

"What?" Tracey asked, gesturing with her hands.

Daphne put a fist to her nose and looked away again from her friend, "Then I got him to touch my boob.”

“Daphne!” Tracey chided, grinning.

“What?! He’s just f*cking hot and I just felt so connected with him,” replied Daphne, almost shrugging.

“Hey, I’m not condemning you, I just thought you weren’t ready for that kinda stuff yet,” said Tracey

“Neither did I but…if Mitsy hadn’t come, well…I wanted to go further.”

“How much further?” asked Tracey, wide-eyed. She'd never seen her friend get like this over a boy.

“I dunno, until I got uncomfortable I guess," Daphne shrugged. "I just really like him okay? And I think he really likes me. Did you know he said he had the best day of his life yesterday?”

“Did he?" Tracey said with a sympathetic smile. "That’s sweet.”

“Thing is, I told him it was the best day of mine too. He just makes me feel…I dunno, like I can deal with it all, you know.”

Tracey opened her mouth to speak when Ellanore came sprinting out of the house towards them in a panic.

“Daphne, come quick. It’s your Dad, he’s in the hospital,” she said, in a breathless panic.

Daphne went white. Harry had warned her. What on earth had happened?

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Harry had just gotten back home with Sirius to Grimmauld Place when he heard the door open. Amelia had insisted that both he and Sirius were checked over by emergency healers before they could leave, but thankfully they’d gotten away with only a few scratches and bruises. They’d just about given those who were currently at home Arthur, Molly, Fred, George, Ron and Hermione a brief overview of what had happened. Ginny hadn’t spoken to him since yesterday and was nowhere to be seen.

Harry could feel Dumbledore's magic before he even burst into the sitting room, but the door swung open at speed, the handle banging loudly against the wall.

The moment the Headmaster's eyes locked eyes with Harry's, he bellowed, “How dare you!? How dare you plot to confirm the existence of Voldemort without consulting me!? Did you never stop to think why I hadn’t done it myself!? Do you think that I don’t have plans!? Do you know how difficult it will be to recruit new members!? People will be scared to leave their homes! We will never be able to get the support we need and it's all thanks to you! Did you not think that you would terrify them? That you will cause a panic? That shops will close, that families previously sentimental to his cause might flock to him?”

Harry fumed. He knew he should have expected something like this, but he wasn’t having it. He was still full of adrenaline and was determined to give as good as he got.

“What?!” Harry shouted back, “And leave them completely in the dark when you and I both know people have already started going missing across the country?!! Are you seriously telling me that it being easier to recruit new members to the Order is more important than letting families be aware that they may need to defend themself, to protect their families at a moment's notice?

The other inhabitants of the room were silent. No one had ever seen Dumbledore this angry, nor expected Harry to respond at the same level.

“That’s not the point, Harry.”

“That’s exactly the point, Albus,” added Sirius, but Harry held his hand up to stifle Sirius’s interruption. This was his fight.

“You didn't answer the question,” Harry retorted, “Let's try it the other way. What do you think is worse, it being difficult to recruit new Order members, or having families of men, women and children have Death Eaters, wearing masks that have haunted the collective psyche for a generation, ambush them in their own homes, with no wartime wards in place and watch their loved ones murdered before them before being eviscerated."

Dumbledore sputtered, some of the wind taken out of his sails, he said, “You’re right, Harry of course, but you went completely the wrong way about it. If you had come to me we could’ve discussed it. Do you know how many people died today, not including Death Eaters? Four. Four innocent people died because you couldn't come up with a way to achieve your aims without doing something as stupid and as bullheaded as this. One of them has a child who is a first-year Ravenclaw. That's not to mention the number of people that were injured in the crush. Thankfully, they will be completely fine but what are you going to say to the families of the others who died? It was the most unSlytherin, childish and dangerous plan I've ever seen concocted."

“Amelia knew about it in advance,” Harry said, defensively, folding his arms, but in truth, he was shaken by the thought that his actions had inadvertently made a child lose their parent.

“And did you tell Amelia that you would be revealing the identities of several Death Eaters in a locked room with over a hundred other people? No. No, you didn't. I agree your aims were well-intentioned, but the road to hell is paved with them.” Albus said.

“People die in war, Albus,” argued Sirius, glancing at Harry and seeing him staring blankly into space. He knew he was struggling to process the death of the innocents which meant Sirius felt he needed to step in here, “I knew about the plan as well, in full. Yes, it's regrettable that people were hurt, but how many more would've been killed by the inner circle Death Eater members or their subordinates if we hadn't taken them out of the game early? We revealed Voldemort and took out many of his top generals all in one day!”

“That doesn't entitle you to put so many people in danger. I'm disappointed in both of you. I now know you've been training Harry to kill, Sirius. Just because you were a hit wizard once, doesn't mean you need to turn your Godson into one.” Albus said.

“I'm turning my Godson into someone who will win us this war.” Sirius snapped, clenching his fists so hard his fingernails were making red crescent moons on his palms.

“None of the spells I cast were killing spells, Professor.” Harry interjected, frowning, trying to blink away what Albus had said, “Stunning them hadn’t worked, Avery had just gotten right back up. The spells I cast that caused death were depulso, alarte ascendare, and a family parseltongue healing charm used to fracture bones before resetting them. The new spells I've been focusing on learning have been spells for healing, not for killing. I needed to stop them hard and fast. It was kill or be killed.”

“It didn't need to be," Albus retorted, "You put yourselves and everyone else in that situation. If we kill them then we are no better than they are.”

“I disagree, Professor,” said Harry.

“You killed three people, Harry. Merlin, I don’t know how a bone-fracturing spell could explode someone’s head like that. At most, their head would still be intact.”

Everyone apart from Sirius, Harry and Albus in the room gasped.

“You exploded a Death Eater’s head?!” Molly asked, eyes wide with terror.

“Wicked.” Fred and George said together.

“Killing is not wicked, boys,” chided Arthur, “Harry was in a life or death situation.”

“You must’ve put a bit of power in that one,” said Ron, amazed.

“Well he was glowing,” added Sirius.

“That is cool,” said Ron.

“It’s an indicator of immense power that could be unbelievably dangerous if it is allowed to go unchecked. I've got half a mind to stop you from training, or expel you from school altogether!” said Albus, “You are already deadly enough.”

“No you couldn't, and he is not,” said Sirius, stepping next to his Godson and protectively placing a hand on his shoulder, “He has amazing reflexes and a lot of power but he needs a lot of practice to be able to face more than one Death Eater at a time on his own. They will come for him and Harry's an adult now. Expulsion or not, he could drop out of school and do his OWLs independently and I will still train him.”

“Plus, you couldn’t stop me even if you expelled me,” Harry added, “The Chamber of Secrets is not within Hogwarts Wards, only I and those I choose have access to it.”

“You would dare disobey Dumbledore's orders?” asked Molly, shocked.

“I am not part of the Order, Mrs Weasley, you and the Headmaster have made that abundantly clear. Like I said, I’m not a Dark Wizard. I won’t ever practise the dark arts, I’m just willing to do what it takes. I'm sorry for not thinking it completely through properly and there might've been a better way to do it, I just…he’s right, I didn’t think about other people who might get killed or be put in danger, whether it was justified or not.” Harry replied, wiping a tear from his eye, the adrenaline of the battle beginning to drain from him now.

Harry's words gave Dumbledore hope. As much as he abhorred the display Harry had put on today, to see Harry displaying remorse showed him that Albus knew he wasn’t taking what happened lightly. It hugely reduced any doubts he’d had about Harry going dark, especially with how concerned he was about Harry being able to study such a vast array of archaic magics without supervision.

There was silence for a little while as everyone processed the conversation.

Dumbledore collapsed into a chair and Molly brought him a glass of firewhiskey. Hermione was staring at Harry with pity, thinking through what had been said before she realised she had to speak up. Her best friend had the whole world on his shoulders, and she’d known since first year when they’d found Voldemort was still alive that things were eventually going to get ugly. She’d vowed that she would stick by him through thick and thin, and she had. Since she’d arrived at Grimmauld Place she’d been psyching herself up for months, thinking about Cedric’s death, imagining if it could've been her, thinking about her family and how long it would be before the Death Eaters came after her mum and dad. It made her both scared and angry. Trapped in here, in what was essentially a safehouse apart from one trip with Tonks to buy a dictionary meant she'd been locked away from the outside world with every chunk of information she'd received being centred around the Ministry's calling his best friend a liar and their utter denial of the chaos that was to come. The situation brought up everything she’d learned in her history books, of the conversations she’d had with her Great-Grandpa about the war. It’d been exactly how it started, misinformation, fear, and the allies being utterly unprepared for what was to come. By the time the bravery of the allied nations stood united as one and finally completed what needed to be done, so many lives across Europe had already been lost. Now, with Harry becoming the Lord of Houses Slytherin and Potter and his sudden growth into what she had to admit was a very attractive, physically strong young man, she felt that her long-standing faith was not misplaced. Now, she would double down on it.

“Professor, I assume you know who Adolf Hitler was?” asked Hermione.

“Of course, Miss Granger,” Albus said, taking a sip of firewhiskey and offering a kind smile.

“If the allies just said, let's not kill the Germans, the allies would have lost the Battle of Britain, England would’ve been invaded and there would’ve been no D-Day and Hitler would have succeeded in his mission. War is death, Professor. There’s no way around it. My Great-Grandpa Ivan fought and some of his friends died so that my grandparents could live. You can hate what Harry did today if you want, but to me, the ends justified the means. I, like you, don't completely agree with how he went about doing what he did, but he did what needed to be done. I’m struggling to think of another way to make the Ministry admit to Voldemort’s resurrection so quickly and take out several of his most powerful or influential followers."

Harry looked at Hermione, surprised. He’d worried that Hermione would be completely horrified by him, she hated violence, but she'd never told him what happened to her family. He was glad she was on his side here, it meant a lot.

“I see your point, Miss Granger,” Albus sighed. “But just because I see it doesn’t mean that I completely agree with it.”

“We will have to agree to disagree, Professor.” said Harry, “But just because we have some different values, doesn’t mean that we can’t be allies.”

“I agree, but you can't go off making war-changing decisions without including your allies,” replied Dumbledore.

“I understand, and I'll try to include you more in my plans in future.” Harry relented, “We can work with one another. Look, I’m not promising that I won’t kill if I feel like I need to, but mostly not going to be attacking, only defending. I won’t have Daphne think I’m a murderer.”

“Ah yes, I had heard about you being invited to Miss Greengrass’ party,” Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh yeah, you didn't tell us how the party went, Harry,” pointed out Hermione, looking up from her parchment.

“It was brilliant, Hermione. We're dating now. She’s brilliant. Smart as a button.”

Harry said with a smile, though a feeling of dread falling into the pit of his stomach as to what Daphne's reaction would be to today's events.

Hermione frowned at that, but Harry wasn't sure why.

“What, that slimy snake is your girlfriend?” Ron asked with a sneer.

“Nice one, Harry,” said Fred and George simultaneously.

“Thanks, guys,” Harry said, “I'm the king of the slimy snakes now Ron, and Daphne is not who you think she is. They aren't all the same. And after yesterday, let's just say there's quite a few Slytherins you know who aren't as bad as you think they are.”

Ron huffed, “I'll believe it when I see it.”

Harry's words filled Albus with hope and gave him an inclination that with Harry all was not lost. He clearly had a great capacity for love and if he were to grow to love Daphne, then maybe Harry could start to see things his way, he thought. It might even help him defeat Voldemort. "After all," Albus thought, "Love is the power that Tom knows not."

“Well I like her a lot," Harry said, "And when you see her I'd appreciate it if you kept that in mind.”

“Love is the most important magic we have, Harry, you need to nurture it,” Albus advised, before letting out a big sigh, the stress of the day beginning to drain away, “I’m not angry at you, but you massively threw me off guard and my plans, awry. I understand your reasoning. It’s good to hear that you are dating Daphne and I believe you may have an even stronger relationship now that you have saved Cyrus' life. That’s not to mention having those in the House of Greengrass as your allies, them being of a Most Ancient and Noble house could be invaluable in future. You will owe them a life debt you know, you could ask for Daphne's hand in marriage."

"Yes,” Albus thought, pleased at the words he’d used and offering Harry an encouraging smile. “Maybe”, he thought, “Putting him and Daphne in close proximity might foster the much-needed love that Harry needs.”

“I would sir, but I'm not a fan of forcing people to marry me, girlfriend or not. Besides, it's a bit early to call it love.”

“I see,” Albus said, a bit disheartened by the response but happy with the morality the boy was showing. Maybe there was something else he could do to encourage Harry and Daphne, keep them close somehow?

“You know," said Hermione, “There might be a way we can use this to the Order’s advantage, Professor. We could publicise what happened at the trial as a complete victory for the Wizengamot, with how many Death Eaters were captured or killed. I have, let's say, a good bit of influence on Rita Skeeter.”

Albus raised his eyebrows at that, Miss Granger had been a target of quite a few of Rita's more sensational articles last year. She must have some dirt on her that she's not going to be forthcoming with, Albus thought. Either way, Miss Granger was a girl with some brains, it would be worth it to hear her idea.

“That’s interesting,” Albus said, slowly, “What do you propose we do with it?”

“We could see if she can get Harry a couple of guest columns occasionally,” she suggested.

“Hmm,” Albus sounded, running a hand through his beard, “Rita might be able to pitch it, but her upper management might not go for it. They won’t want to draw the ire of Voldemort.”

“What if we could find some way to protect them? We could pay for goblin standard wards for the offices and all members of staff.” Sirius suggested.

“Is it worth that?” Molly asked.

“After what happened today, someone his age being able to take down Death Eaters, he will have many people looking to believe that Harry is some sort of chosen one, that he might be able to beat him. We could foster and use that hope, encourage them to train themselves, be vigilant and maybe encourage some of them to join the Aurors. Tonks helps train the Auror Cadets for their concealment and disguise exams, doesn’t she?” Hermione asked.

“She does yes,” confirmed Dumbledore.

Hermione nodded, before finishing her thought, “We could use her to filter any new recruits into the order, and because they'll be undergoing training, we’ll know they’ll be capable of putting up a fight.”

“It’s a good idea, Hermione but do you know how much the wards you’re talking about cost?” Arthur said, “You’re talking a thousand galleons per home, probably two thousand for the offices to compensate for the ambient magic. Plus, the Prophet has nearly a hundred staff. That’s up to about a hundred thousand galleons. That's like 10 years of my wages.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Arthur's admission of his wages brought a new perspective to how much he’d spent on Daphne’s present, but inwardly he shrugged. Daphne, and Astoria’s life, was worth it.

"No one said it had to be wards," Sirius said, "There might be a better idea."

“I’ll help cover some of it,” Harry said, “If I have enough money.”

Dumbledore snorted.

“If you have enough money?” the Headmaster said, “Harry you haven't had any contact with Gringotts since you ascended, have you?”

“No, why?”

“Well, my boy, let me put it to you this way. Since Hogwarts was founded, the admission fee of five hundred Galleons per term has not wavered. Support programs exist, the governors hold a fund for some of the poorer families that are not from noble houses to go to school, but out of every student's fees, since the school's inception, twenty-five galleons apiece have been taken out every term and deposited into the Hogwarts families’ vaults. The school has been open since the year 981 and the school has had at least 72 students at any one time, in some years, we’ve had over eight hundred. Now do you think you can afford it?“

Harry sat there in shock, his jaw had dropped. Hermione started scribbling furiously on a bit of parchment, tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Merlin Harry, you’re loaded!” said Ron.

“Did I ever tell you I’m your best friend?” said George.

“Well I’m his bester friend,” said Fred

“Ah but are you his besterer friend?” asked George

“I am actually, well sucks for you because I’m his bestesterer -

“Merlin, will you both shut up!” snapped Sirius. His own adrenaline was dropping now and he was quickly getting a blinding headache.

“We can be bestesterer friends with you if you want Sirius.”

That earned them a glare.

“Just need to carry the five, and then...” Hermione muttered before looking up in wonder and said “Harry, if every year was the 72 student year, without interest that's 5475600. In muggle money that's £27256487!”

“Woah!” Ron said, “That's richer than the Malfoys!”

Harry was busy thinking about what Arthur had said about his wages. Every single year his House had taken money from them. He felt incredibly guilty. He got up and walked over to Hermione and crouched by the table she was sitting at.

“Hermione, can you work something else out for me?” he asked, nabbing her quill and then jotting something down on her parchment.

Hermione beamed and replied, “Sure.”

A few minutes later she gave him a figure on a torn-off bit of her parchment.

“Sirius?” Harry then asked, “Can any house elf get into a family vault? No, just one that's part of the family magic, like Kreacher is the black elf and Dobby was the Malfoy one.”

Just the mention of the maniacal little rascal that haunted Harry's second year gave him an idea.

“That’s perfect!” He said, “I could probably do with my own house elf anyway. Dobby!”

A couple of seconds later there was a pop, and Dobby appeared in the room with them.

“Harry Slytherin-Potter calls for Dobby, sir? It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you too, Dobby. I just wanted to ask what you were doing with yourself these days?”

“It's so good of you to ask, mister Harry Potter, sir. Dobby has been working at Hogwarts, sir.”

“How do you feel about becoming my family house elf, Dobby?”

“Harry!” Hermione shouted in alarm, “You can’t do that!? It’s slavery!”

But Dobby’s bulging eyes nearly burst from his head in excitement.

“Oh yes Mister Harry Slytherin-Potter, sir, Dobby would be the bestest elf you could ever possibly have, sir, Dobby would make sure of it.”

“Okay Dobby, let's do it. How do you join my family?”

“You just need to hold your wand while you hold Dobby’s hand and say “I…and then your name… vow to share my magic with the House of Elf known as Dobby, to give him life in service to my House’s needs, and then so mote it be.” like a normal vow,” said Sirius.

“Stop! Hermione said, “It’s wrong”

“How is it?” said Dumbledore, “House Elves need to be bonded with a House or be bonded to an institution among ambient magic, they can be extremely unwell or even die if they don’t. That’s why so many of them work for us at Hogwarts.”

Dobby nodded vigorously.

“I…I didn’t know that.” Hermione said, a blush rising to her cheeks before she stared down at her parchment.

Harry and Ron gave each other a sideways look, clearly both thinking about “S.P.E.W.” but not saying anything.

Harry brought out his wand and reached out his hand for Dobby to take. Dobby was hopping up and down on the floor in excitement so much that Harry could barely keep still while holding his hand, but Harry somehow managed it, raised his wand and said:

“I, Harry James Slytherin-Potter, vow to share my magic with the House of Elf known as Dobby, to give him life in service to my House’s needs, and then so mote it be.”

His wand flashed and Dobby let out an obvious shiver, his pupils dilating as he was brought into the family and its magics.

“Such powerful family Magic, Master Harry Slytherin-Potter has, Master Harry Slytherin-Potter sir, it makes Dobby feel wonderful.”

“Just call me Harry, Dobby,” Harry asked.

“Dobby will struggle, how about Master Harry?” Dobby asked.

“Okay,” Harry said with a smile.

“Is there anything Dobby can do now for Master Harry, sir? Dobby is eager to get started.”

“Can you go to Gringotts for me? I need you to extract some gold and ask for an appointment for me to meet with them about my accounts. Here’s what I want you to get out.” Harry asked, handing Dobby the scrap of parchment Hermione had given him.

“Of course, Dobby will go now Master Harry, sir. Dobby should be back when the big hand goes the other way.”

With a click of his fingers, Dobby was gone.

“Well,” Dumbledore said, getting to his feet and stretching, “I must be going, sorry for my furious entrance everyone.”

“It’s understandable Albus,” said Molly, “It’s been a tough day.”

“That is has. Miss Granger, please send a letter to Rita Skeeter as we discussed. Let’s see what kind of response she has.”

“Will do, Professor,” Hermione replied.

“Farewell everyone,” Dumbledore called, turning towards the door.

He heard a chorus of “goodbyes” as he left.

Just over half an hour later, Dobby returned with another pop.

“Here you go, Master Harry,” Dobby said excitedly, passing Harry a large bag of gold, “The goblinses weren’t happy that Master Harry sent his elf, sir and wouldn’t let me take it out of the Slytherin Vault as it not having beens opened in a long time. They said you can come whenever you like, you don’t need an appointment but they made Dobby tell you that you need to go before you go back to school, Master Harry, sir.”

“Okay, thank you, Dobby, I’ll be sure to do that,” Harry said, smiling at his bat-eared friend.

“Can Dobby do anything else, Master?” Dobby asked, still almost jittery with excitement.

“Yes,” Harry said, “Dobby, I want you to do a few things.”

“Dobby is all ears, Master Harry, all ears.”

“I want you to look at the seal on this letter and get yourself some nice uniforms. I won’t have my house elf wearing a pillowcase. You're also to work with Kreacher on maintaining the Black household until I go back to Hogwarts. If you have any problems, come to me, or Sirius if I’m unavailable.”

“Dobby can do all that sir, anything else?”

“One last thing, Dobby. Buy a hamper from somewhere in Diagon Alley and take it to St Mungo’s Hospital for Lord Greengrass, oh and get a tub of the finest Strawberry Ice Cream for Daphne.”

“Dobby will do this, sir. He will be going now.”

Dobby popped away again. Harry then got up and went to find Mr Weasley, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading a muggle car magazine while Molly bustled around the kitchen. Harry dropped the bag on the kitchen table in front of him.

“Nine thousand, two hundred and sixty-three galleons, sixteen sickles and twenty-eight knuts. That’s all the money that your family has paid into the House of Slytherin, with the standard interest rate of 2 percent as if all the money entered my vault on the day you yourself entered Hogwarts.”

Molly stopped what she was doing and turned on the spot, while Arthur snapped his head up towards him.

“Harry, dear, this is a lovely gesture, but we can’t accept this,” Molly said.

“She’s right, Harry,” Arthur added.

“Neither can I accept having it in my vault. You’ve treated me like family, Mr and Mrs Weasley, given me a roof when things with my relatives were awful and fed me the food from your table.”

“No, Harry, it’s too much money,” Molly said.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Mrs Weasley, You know how much money I’ve got. This is nothing. It’s like you giving me a sickle from your wages. Put it towards a holiday, some wards for the Burrow, some new robes for you, Molly, or some muggle tools for you, Arthur.”

“I have always wanted a Janes Oar,” Arthur said, “Though I don’t know who Jane was or what they have to do with boats.”

Harry laughed, “It’s a chainsaw, Mr Weasley, and they’re very sharp and used for chopping down trees.”

“You’re not getting one,” Molly said immediately, which earned her an “Awww,” and a glum look from her husband.

“Well, thank you, Harry, you have no idea what this will do for our family.”

Later that night, Harry lay in bed. Sirius was busy snoring like a Janes Oar, but Harry struggled to reach sleep himself. He’d managed it for half an hour, but he’d just been flung head first into the recurring dream of the door at the Ministry, wherever it was in that huge place, and if in the dream he ended up going into the white light, he'd always wake up with a start. Now, unhappily awake, he was tossing and turning and he couldn’t help but think about what Dumbledore and Sirius had said. Was today worth it? How many of those who died today had children? How many lives had he ruined, and could that make up for how many lives would be saved by what he’d done? He would never know, but he did know one thing, he didn’t want to know which Ravenclaw’s mum or dad he’d inadvertently gotten killed. He didn’t know how he could look at them.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“My Lord, they took us completely by surprise, Lord Slytherin-Potter, he just...” stuttered Lord Selwyn, tiptoeing around the corpse of some new follower he’d never met before who’d been immediately killed by his Lord’s rage once he'd revealed that the boy had played a memory of the resurrection.

“He is just Potter!” Voldemort spat, stifling magic coming off him in waves, “He is not Slytherin. I am the heir of Slytherin. Slytherin is in my blood. I am Slytherin.”

“P-p-Potter, My Lord,” Selwyn stuttered, “No one was prepared, not even

Dumbledore. He used the device, this Locus thing and everyone whose mask you removed at the graveyard was revealed."

“And those that weren’t?” he asked, trying to calm himself down so he could absorb as much information as possible.

“They kept quiet, apart from Yaxley, my Lord,” Selwyn replied. He wanted to get out, even though the Dark Lord was speaking calmly, he could still palpably feel his rage. In this cold gothic room of Malfoy Manor, he felt like he was trapped with a wild animal.

“And where are they now?” Voldemort asked.

“M-m-Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Macnair were captured, but p-p-Potter, he -”

Lord Selwyn was positively shaking now and jumped at Voldemort’s interruption.

“He what?” Voldemort snapped, getting impatient with Lord Selwyn’s stuttering.

“He killed Avery, Yaxley and Nott.”

“Impossible, Potter is nowhere near powerful enough.” Voldemort sneered.

“His eyes were glowing, and he had help, my Lord. Sirius Black, Dumbledore, Lord Greengrass, Amelia Bones...”

“Greengrass? So they've finally chosen a side. Good. At least we know where the vermin stands. We shall have to make a plan for them.” sneered Voldemort. He’d always thought Cyrus was a cowardly worm.

“I agree, My Lord, but he did receive some comeuppance. Avery managed to remove his wand arm, but then Potter managed to heal him somehow.”

Voldemort waved his hand and rolled his eyes at Selwyn. Of course, he agreed with him, he was his master. In truth, Greengrass didn’t matter, at least for now and he’d clearly had enough of an ordeal that he didn't need any further punishment yet. Besides, he was always at the Ministry, at his Manor, or at one of his many properties, all of which were highly warded and there was no way he would venture outside now. He’d be at St Mungo's currently, but likely would be surrounded by his family, and blood loss is something that can be sorted in hours so he would be soon. Security everywhere would be massively tightened. He tightened his grip on his wand, pacing.

Potter was already a massive thorn in his side, the only silver lining being that he was right to pick him and not Longbottom when he’d heard the prophecy. Now, Potter had ruined his plans completely, outed his resurrection and taken out three of his finest in one fell swoop. The others were likely in Azkaban.

Potter’s eyes glowing and his being able to reattach someone’s arm who was very likely at Death’s door was the most unwelcome news. It was concerning. He could not allow Potter to become powerful. He needed more followers. He needed his inner circle, and maybe to raise a few more through his ranks, but how to do it? Also, he needed to keep an eye on Potter somehow. And Dumbledore. He needed eyes at Hogwarts. He thought of young Draco, Lucius had said he’d been brought up sympathetic to their cause, but still, he was a child. He thought of the behaviour of his peers Draco’s age when he was at Hogwarts. No, Draco would be too immature, but still...how could he get the information he needed? He had an idea.

“Selwyn, fetch Narcissa,” Voldemort ordered.

“Yes, my Lord.” Lord Selwyn replied eagerly, though admittedly more happy to get out of the room rather than please his master.

Five minutes later, Narcissa returned, looking at him warily. He'd never been sure about her. She'd never been marked, never swore fealty to him, but Lucius swore she was loyal to the cause. Well, this would do as a demonstration of her loyalty at least.

“You called, My Lord,” Narcissa said, trying to project confidence in herself with her head high and her shoulders back.

“You have become needed, Lady Malfoy. As I’m sure you are aware, your husband is likely in Azkaban by now at Potter’s hand. I need eyes on him.”

“What would you like me to do, my Lord?” Narcissa asked obediently.

“I want you to apply for the Defence Against The Dark Arts position. Do you hold a NEWT?”

“An “O”, my Lord, but I must say, with my husband in Azkaban I doubt that Dumbledore will hire me, and my husband will no longer have his position as Governor.”

Voldemort inclined his head, conceding the point, “Well, we will just have to influence the rest of the board, won’t we? Go to Rookwood and Rowle and get them to draw up profiles on each of the governors. I’m sure a few little visits from our friends will help them decide in our favour.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Dismissed.”

“Yes,” Voldemort thought, sitting on the large chair at the head of the dark Malfoy dinner table. “That’s a good start. Now to figure out a way to get my generals out of Azkaban with their souls intact.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Harry was on his knees, sweat dripping from places he didn’t know existed. They’d been training for nearly six weeks, and when they were in the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius frequently flip-flopped from being his best friend to being a gruelling taskmaster who Harry wanted to slap upside the head. He'd hoped he'd at least have had another Wizengamot session to break the training up a bit, but as Lord Shacklebolt was still in hospital and several proxy members were having to be found for deceased members, the next session wasn't set until the weekend before term began.

For the last week, Harry had been working on improving his access to the incredible pool of magic power he had inside him. That meant, Sirius said, firing the most draining spells, repeatedly, until he felt dizzy. Apparently, the more he accessed higher levels of power the easier he would have access to it. He’d agreed after the first two days that he'd found it easier, but that just meant Sirius turned up the heat again and again. They went from Sirius making him float a desk in the air for as long as he could while Sirius read whatever he liked, to Harry constantly channelling an aguamenti into a pot which was charmed to make the water vanish on impact, to having him hold up as big a protego as he could while Sirius threw high impact spells at him again and again and again.

Sirius wasn’t his favourite person in the world right now. He'd told Harry himself that he didn’t give a sh*t that it was his birthday, in fact, that just meant that he had to train harder.

Harry sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. He’d not heard from Daphne since the party. It must be over between them, Harry thought. He’d put her father in danger with just a “spells might fly tomorrow” as a warning. He could almost punch himself and prayed that he would get a chance to talk to her once he got back to Hogwarts.

Sirius checked his watch, looking at the time. “That’s it for the day, Birthday Boy,” he called, earning himself a well-deserved glare from his Godson, “Let's go home and hit the showers.”

Harry nodded and steadily got to his feet, accepting a much-needed Exhaustion Elixir that Sirius offered and downing it in one go with no hesitation, regardless of the fact it tasted like dirt. It made him feel better. He felt newly energised but they never trained harder once he'd had one. He was only allowed one a day as more than that could do damage to the magical core.

He took Sirius by the arm, and they portkeyed into their bedroom. Harry felt disgusting and pretty much ran to the shower. He heard Sirius get in the stall next to him - something his Godfather had added to the ensuite once he knew Harry would be rooming with him - and start singing, badly.

“Oh, but it don’t matter dear, you’ve got me under your spell, you know I’ll always be here…” Sirius sang in his tone-deaf caterwaul.

“You’ve been singing that all day,” Harry said, annoyed from the other side of the cubicle.

“Ooh, touchy,” said Sirius, “Don’t be such a grouch. I’ve put some clothes out for you. Try and do your hair, I think Molly will have done you a cake and she’s made us all a nice dinner so she’s asked us to dress up nice for your birthday.”

“Okay,” Harry said, tilting his head back to rinse the conditioner out of his hair. All done, he got out, grabbed a towel and padded back into the bedroom. Sirius had put out a plain white muggle shirt, Harry’s favourite black jeans and a pair of oxfords. Harry put them on quickly and then went back into the bathroom to do his hair. Sirius, walking past him in a towel, asked him to wait until he too was ready before they went downstairs. Harry briefly wondered why Sirius had said that while he tried for what must've been the ten-thousandth time to tame his hair but then by the time he'd gone back into the bedroom to put his shoes on, he'd shrugged it off. Sirius was weird anyway. He was too busy thinking about how he’d completely and utterly f*cked things up with Daphne and that stuffing his face with no amount of chocolate cake or treacle tart would make it any better.

Sirius came out of the bathroom in his boxers and then quickly put on a slightly fancier-than-normal set of black robes and shoes.

“Ready to go pup?” Sirius asked before casting a drying charm on his hair.

“Yeah,” Harry said with a nod and they left the room and went down the stairs. The first thing Harry noticed that was odd was that the kitchen door was closed. As far as he was aware, there was no Order meeting tonight. He turned to look at Sirius, who just had a neutral expression on his face.

Harry turned the doorknob and opened the kitchen door.

“SURPRISE!” shouted a chorus from the packed kitchen. He jumped at first but then smiled as he took in all the people that were there. Of course, all the Weasleys were there, but also Remus, Tonks, and Dumbledore. That didn't matter though, because the person who he saw at the other end of the kitchen, the one standing right in front of a huge red-velvet cake, looking beautiful in a pleated black knee-length skirt and a pretty pearlescent white vest top, was Daphne.

Chapter 14: Happy Birthday, Harry

Chapter Text

A/N - Upcoming Explicit Lemon in this chapter. It will be in the second section, marked with a line, beginning soon after Daphne’s long explanation. It will go pretty much to the end of the chapter. Please R&R!

Chapter 14 - Happy Birthday, Harry

Harry could scarcely believe it, after weeks of stressing, after no response to the owls that he’d sent to her, she was here. He’d even contemplated owling Cyrus but had decided against it. Now Daphne stood at the end of the table looking beautiful and smiling at him, in just the same way that she had at the party as if nothing had changed.

“Hi everyone, you scared the hell out of me. Thanks for coming!” Harry said after recovering from the initial shock, smiling widely at the group who were all there for his first-ever birthday party and who all laughed at his response.

“Right, now that the birthday boy’s here, I’m sure you’ll all want to talk to him one by one but the food’s all ready, there’s plates near the door there on the countertop, just grab whatever and sit wherever you like,” announced Molly.

The group all began to move down the left-hand side of the table and Sirius started handing out some plates. Harry, reaching over Hermione’s shoulder, grabbed two plates from Sirius and some cutlery and walked down to the other end of the long, rectangular kitchen table to where Daphne was still standing.

“Hi,” Harry said, feeling awkward at first and impulsively rubbing a hand on the back of his hair, “It’s really good to see you.”

Daphne smiled genuinely at him. “It’s good to see you too,” she said, before wrapping her slender arms around him in a hug. Over his shoulder, she said, “I’m sorry I didn’t write, I was just…”

She opened her eyes, looked at all the happy people around her, and pulled out of the hug before looking into the questioning eyes that she’d missed so much over the six weeks.

“We can talk about it later,” she said, “There’s lots of people here to see you and everything's good between us, okay?”

Harry smiled, nodded and asked “Shall we get some food? Mrs Weasley’s cooking is legendary.”

Daphne agreed, and they went around the table getting a few bits of whatever they liked. There was roast chicken, roast beef, chips, mash, roast potatoes, burgers, kebabs, rice, couscous, chilli con carne, a variety of roast and steamed vegetables as well as a veritable smorgasbord of other sundries and nibbles for people to grab if they wanted anything a little less heavy. On one worktop there were bottles of elf-made wine, butterbeer and mead, as well as pitchers of pumpkin juice and cans of muggle sodas that Mr Weasley had excitedly bought on his way home from work.

With their plates loaded, Harry and Daphne made their way from the lounge into the living room, where Tonks and Remus were already sitting with their plates on their laps, chatting jovially while they ate. Several of the chairs that had been around the kitchen table had been moved into the living room to increase the number of people that could sit in there and to make it easier for people to get to the buffet.

“Hi guys,” Harry said as they entered and he and Daphne sat on a couple of the kitchen chairs, “This is Daphne.”

“Happy birthday, Harry, and nice to meet you Daphne, I’m Tonks,” the pink-haired Auror said.”

“Yes, happy birthday, Harry,” said Remus, “And you know me already,” he said to Daphne.

“Yeah, it sucks not having you as a teacher anymore, Moony,” Harry said.

“Actually, I knew Remus before that,” Daphne said, “He’s been coming to my Dad’s shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade for as long as I can remember.”

“Yes,” Remus said, nodding, “I’ve known you since you were how old? Nine?”

“Ten,” Daphne replied, “It was when my Dad started to ask me to come in and help his staff in the shops some busier weekends.”

“Well, you’ve all been wonderful,” Lupin replied, “Without the subsidising your Dad lobbied for, there’d be no way I’d be able to afford the ingredients for Wolfsbane. And thanks for not outing me in your third year by the way.”

“No problem,” Daphne said with a smile. “It was a no-brainer really, we know how difficult it is for Werewolves to get jobs, and you were such a brilliant teacher. We’ve not had a better one since.”

“She’s right, Moony,” Harry said, “Even Crouch last year while interesting, just didn't have the connection with us that you did.”

“Crouch?” Daphne asked, confused, “We had Moody last year.”

“We didn’t. It was Barty Crouch Junior. Crouch Senior polyjuiced his dying wife into his son, snuck her into Azkaban and swapped them. It was him who put my name in the Goblet under a different school.”

“That’s crazy.” Daphne said, blinking in surprise, “And it makes sense now, I always did think he was having a bit too much fun torturing that spider in from of Neville. Now it's obvious why.”

They shared a knowing but slightly uncomfortable look, Daphne was also clearly au fait with just who had done what to Neville’s parents but it wasn’t something that needed to be discussed here.

“How’s work, Tonks? Had any excitement recently?” Harry asked, before adding to Daphne, “Tonks is an Auror.”

“No,” Tonks replied, “Not yet, though we’re expecting it to come soon. Since the Prophet has changed their tune on you and officially declared that Voldemort is back there haven’t been many attacks that we’ve needed to foil. Most of the attacks have been on establishments, not homes. There was an attack on Pippins Potions in Hogsmeade last week, but with the new articles on ways to protect your homes that came out in the last weeks, a lot of them have been spooked before we’ve even got there.”

“That’s good news,” Daphne said, “So it seems what happened at the trial was a good thing,”

“It seems that way,” Tonks replied, Before we were having attacks only maybe once a fortnight, but they were most of the time well organised and successful. Now they're a bit more often, but they’re disorganised and poorly planned. Getting rid of so many of his inner circle at once has had a big effect.”

“That’s good,” Harry said, “Now we just need to get rid of Fudge and install someone better. I can't believe they're making us wait til the next session before we can have him out.”

“Votes of no confidence need a Wizengamot session, unfortunately,” Daphne said.

“Plus he's gone into hiding now that people are realising how much influence Death Eaters like Malfoy have had on him,” added Remus, “I even heard in the Leaky that some people think he knew Voldemort was back and was keeping it under wraps on purpose.”

“Nah, they're giving him way too much credit,” said Daphne.

“I agree,” said Tonks, “The Prophet does like to stir those kinds of things up. Did you finish your column yet, Harry?”

“Just finished it yesterday,” he replied.

“You're writing for the Prophet?” Daphne asked, looking impressed.

“Yeah. Well me and Hermione.” Harry said, “We've been working on some propaganda to give people hope and incentivise people. Just gotta go to Gringotts tomorrow and then to the Prophet’s Offices with Sirius. Then he's got an appointment for a few hours so I thought I might do a bit of shopping, go and get my Hogwarts supplies.”

“I'll go with you if you like,” Daphne suggested, “I was gonna have the day myself when I left after breakfast anyway.”

“Wait, what?” Harry said, confused “You're staying the night?

He'd frowned a little there, so Daphne was a little hesitant when she said, “Sirius invited me to. If that's alright?”

She was concerned, thinking she might have done something wrong until Harry broke out into a beaming smile.

“It's brilliant!” he said, “Alright then, it's a date.”

Daphne broadly smiled back.

“Awww, ickle Hawwy is in lub.” Tonks teased.

“Shut up,” Harry replied, but blushed to his ears.

“Hey guys,” Hermione said, “Happy birthday, Harry, what are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly, causing audible snorts of laughter from Daphne, Remus and Tonks.

“Hi Hermione,” Daphne said, “I love your earrings.”

“Thanks,” Hermione replied brightly, “I love your top too, it's so shimmery. I’m glad you’re here because wanted to ask you something. When I found out you were with Harry now, I thought it might be an option.”

“Go On.”

Then Hermione started speaking very fast.

“Well, I remembered that you and I always get the top marks in our year, and I've recently borrowed a book off Harry about arithmancy and I've been learning loads. First I was learning about creating spells for animation but now I'm onto creating spells that make a material recognise when it's touched and then have an effect, like when variants of Gemino are applied to things it can make things duplicate and duplicate and duplicate when touched. I remembered the project you submitted last year for your final project on how you made a spell to make metals go soft when receiving high impacts and I thought it would be great to work with you on a spell you could cast on a material like a cloak. We could have it recognise when solid objects were deliberately sent against it, duplicate them and then fire them back in the same direction twice as fast, what do you think?”

“Did you even breathe?” asked Tonks, who made Harry and Remus burst into laughter, but Daphne's eyes lit up.

In truth, Daphne had created her metal-softening spell last year for her sister. Astoria's bed had bars around it that could be raised to stop her falling off mid-seizure, but she'd really hurt herself after one of them, fracturing her arm. This was why Daphne made the spell, so that when Astoria had the seizures it would reduce the capacity for her to hurt herself, but she could still have the bars and she wouldn’t fall off.

Right now though, Daphne was in full-on excitement mode. In truth, she’d been looking forward to talking to Hermione about their mutual academic interests, and while Hermione spent a lot more time studying the magical theory of how spells work, Daphne was more into how spells were applied and the different methods to do so.

“I'm in,” she said, causing Hermione to make an almost violent “eek” and rush to hug Daphne, nearly knocking both of their plates out of their hands, “Ooh but that raises so many questions, like how do we get it to recognise what was sent as an attack? Does it have to be sent to injure or would I just be able to throw a plate of mash at Harry and it not cover me in a torrent of potato?”

“Hey, no one throwing any vegetables at me,” Harry said, defensively holding his palms up in jest.

“You know guys, if you can get this working, I can get you a meeting with our training division and you might be able to teach it to our Aurors.”

Both Hermione and Daphne stared at each other excitedly.

“When can we start?” Daphne asked.

“I already have. I'll send you my notes and let me know what you think when we're back at school, said Hermione.

“Deal,” replied Daphne, grinning.

They ate the rest of their dinners in relative silence from then on, just making a few comments here and there. Harry was always very hungry after their sessions so he wolfed down his food, earning him a strange look from Daphne.

“What?” he asked, “I've been literally training since seven am.”

She nodded, amused, “That's great, but don't ever let my father see you eat like that.”

Harry just shrugged. A few minutes later, Daphne was done too and they got up to drop off their plates into the kitchen and grab a couple of drinks. Both Ron and Dumbledore had pulled chairs back around the kitchen table and were both diving into the food, stuffing their faces. Occasionally, Ron would stop his eating for a moment and say, “Hey Professor, try this!”, to which Dumbledore would grab something off whatever plate Ron had pointed to and bite into whatever it was with vigour. This was followed by an acknowledging nod and a “mmm” from the headmaster. At one point, Dumbledore looked up at Molly, who was busy near the oven looking at a recipe book, waved his hand over his glass and suddenly his elf-made wine floated into Ron's empty goblet. Another wave made the wine the same colour as the nearby pumpkin juice which was right next to a new bottle of wine, which he levitated over to himself and wandlessly commanded it to pour himself a fresh one before giving his new feasting companion a cheeky wink. This was the bit that Harry and Daphne had caught when they entered the room and they were astounded, but there was no way they were going to say anything.

“The food was lovely Mrs Weasley,” Daphne said, placing her plate and cutlery amongst a mounting pile of dishes.

“Thank you very much, Heir Greengrass,” Molly said, before turning and curtsying at Daphne, which looked very strange in her monogrammed Weasley apron.

“None of that while I'm here, Mrs Weasley, I'm just Daphne.’ Daphne said with a friendly smile.

It was certainly the right thing to say, as the Weasley matriarch beamed and said “You call me Molly then, Daphne.”

Daphne then turned her attention to Mr Weasley, who wasn't much focusing on his plate and was reading an instruction manual for a microwave, but he said “Thanks for coming, Daphne,” without looking away, “Sorry I've just got to a really good bit.”

“Fair enough,” Daphne replied, “Muggles are fascinating.”

Arthur stopped what he was doing and turned to Daphne like he'd just heard the voice of God. Harry felt like he should have warned her not to say that, but the damage was done.

“I agree!” Arthur said, turning away from his plate to talk to her, “Do you really think so?”

“Of course,” Daphne replied, “They've invented so many things we could reinvent in the wizarding world. Imagine a Magical Television.”

“I know!” Arthur replied, eyes full of excitement. “What else do you like?”

“Mostly I like muggle clothes and their fashion. They're so much more comfortable, and I think a lot of the time look quite a bit better than robes.”

“I agree, but I always get funny looks when I try to wear them.”

“Maybe it's what you're wearing together rather than any one thing.” Daphne suggested Certain things go together you see.”

“Ah, so are you saying a woollen jumper doesn't go well with what they call a Speedo?”

Daphne had to stop herself from laughing.

“Absolutely not!” Daphne replied, “That’s like turning up to a Ministry function wearing open robes and only underpants!”

“Damn, no wonder I was kicked out of that Tesco,” Arthur said, blushing, “I’m clueless!”

“I tell you what, Harry and I are going to Diagon Alley tomorrow with Sirius. Why don't we also hop out of the Leaky Cauldron and I'll get you a muggle magazine on their clothing? Harry can bring it back with him.” Daphne suggested.

“That would be amazing!” Arthur said, “So what do you think about -”

“Arthur dear,” Molly interrupted, “Daphne doesn't want to talk about muggle things all night. Besides. Everyone will be done soon.” She then turned her head to Harry and Daphne and said, “Why don't you two head into the parlour and we can get you to open your presents!”

Ten minutes later, Harry was sitting on the floor in the parlour next to a large pile of birthday presents. It was the biggest pile he'd ever seen in his life. Everyone was sitting around him, as Dumbledore had levitated all the different chairs and expanded the room a little to fit everyone in. It was pretty daunting, Harry thought, to have everyone watching him open every present. What if he didn't like one of them? Wouldn't they be offended? He batted the intrusive thought away. Any present bought by those around him was bound to be excellent, just because they got it for him.

As everyone quietly chatted and drank whatever they were drinking, Harry picked up the first gift from the pile.

“That's from me, my boy,” said Albus, as Harry picked up what was obviously a book, covered in garish gold and purple polka-dot wrapping paper.

Harry tore off the wrapping and found that he’d received a paperback muggle medical textbook. He read, “Anatomy and Physiology, 11th edition.” and turned it over to read the blurb.

“Poppy recommended it to me.” Albus advised, ”She said it's the best book for prospective healers to get started with.”

Harry smiled up at the headmaster and thanked him. Next, came two identical presents from Ron and Hermione, which were boxes of Honeydukes chocolate, and then he unwrapped an Aurors’ standard-issue wand holster from Tonks. Sirius gave him a little wink when Harry reached out to pick up the present he'd given, which turned out to be a book called “Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches.” This caused Daphne to raise an eyebrow at the animagus and say “He won't needing to charm any more witches, thank you very much.” which brought all of them out into titters of laughter, that is, apart from the giver of the next present.

Ginny smiled at Harry and she bounced her feet on the floor as Harry opened what she'd given him. It turned out to be a wizarding photograph in a small wooden frame, depicting Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all about to go into the stadium before the Quidditch World Cup final. Daphne's stare nearly burned a hole in the floor when she realised that Harry was at the end of the line-up and had an arm around Ginny in the photo. Harry graciously thanked Ginny for the present - which Daphne wanted to burn as soon as possible and Daphne smiled up at Harry again before she accepted a second new butterbeer from Arthur. She was sure he was waiting until she'd the moment she'd finished her last drink to immediately offer another.

Then Harry opened a present that was from Molly and Arthur, which turned out to be a very expensive black leather jacket. Arthur said he’d been to the movies a few times and always thought the coolest guys wore leather jackets. Apparently, Tonks, who went with him a few days ago to fetch the present on their lunch break helped him pick it out. Harry thanked both Molly and Arthur and said he would wear it out whenever he next got a chance, ignoring the fact that they spent quite a bit of the money he’d returned to them on his gift.

Next, came a present from Daphne’s own parents, and she was pleased to see Harry's reaction to his new blood-locked trunk, which had been enchanted to hold five trunks in a one-trunk space, each easily accessible by pushing a button below a Slytherin-Potter seal that was embossed with gold on top of the chest's rich mahogany. Harry smiled up at her, and said to thank her parents for him, to which she agreed with a nod and a quick “Of course.”

After he’d slowly slid the present from Daphne’s parents to one side, he then picked up her present, which she'd wrapped very carefully by hand with fine dark green and glossy paper. Daphne was a bit jittery with anticipation.

Harry had almost thought it was a book when he'd picked it up, but as he carefully unwrapped it he found a rectangular piece of slate, bordered with very small runes. He looked at Daphne confusedly and felt a bit stupid by the “ahh”s of understanding that came from Tonks, Molly and Dumbledore.

“It's a Memorandus tablet, Harry,” Daphne explained. “You can use a dry quill, and just the touch of it will write whatever on the slate. We write the date at the top, and then we can see what we've written.”

“We?” Harry asked.

“That's the best bit, I got a pair of them and had them connected. I have mine in my bag. Whatever we write is displayed instantly on the slate for the other person. If we both write the same date or add a “- two” or “three” if we run out of space, we can be writing, doodling or whatever we want and both see it at the same time. I thought it would be easier to talk with you here with the mail wards and we can also talk from our separate dorms.”

To Daphne, the look that he gave her, was everything. To Harry, after weeks of dreading that she'd gone off him, this was a godsend. She wanted to keep talking to him. A lot. Harry got up from his crouching position on the floor wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek before simply saying “Thank you.”

Harry sat back, thinking that was going to be his best present, but it wasn't, and after they'd all found out what it was, Daphne didn't mind either. The final present came in a simple cardboard box, wrapped in red paper. It was handed to him by Lupin and wasn't on the pile of presents, who said he just wanted to make sure because it was fragile. Harry unwrapped the package ever so carefully, opened the cardboard box and pulled out a tiny crystal vial containing what Harry knew was a memory.

He looked up at Remus, who explained, “Albus has very kindly offered the use of his pensieve for you to view this, Harry. It's my memory of your Mum and Dad's wedding.”

Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't say anything. He just got up, wrapped his arms around Remus, whispered “Thank you, and ran from the room, red-faced and tears beginning to sting his eyes. Several people started to get up, but Sirius stopped them, saying “No, Daphne should go.”

She found him sitting at the top of the stairs, his head in his hands. It was the greatest gift that anyone had ever given him, Harry knew that for certain, and Daphne did too. She sat next to him without saying anything, wrapped him in a hug, and he cried into her shoulder. Neither of them spoke as Harry got it all out, but he was feeling embarrassed and yet grateful that Daphne was there. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were red, and a stray tear leaked, but she reached up a delicate hand and wiped it away, smiling.

“And I thought my gift was good,” Daphne said with a joking smile.

“It was, it's brilliant, really, but this…” Harry said, “It's the best.”

“I know. You should tell him, and then make a joke or something. Show everyone you're in a good mood.”

Harry nodded. “Thanks,” he said.

“We’re a team now. I'm always here, whenever you need me. I know I’ll never know what it's like…being you…but if you ever just need a hug…” she offered.

“I'll come to you,” Harry said, smiling, before kissing Daphne tenderly. She smiled back softly and brushed her fingertips along his cheek, and even though her heart bled for him, she got to her feet to help him to his. They then went back into the parlour and everyone looked up at him in concern.

“I’m good, guys,” Harry said, “Thanks Remus, that was the present anyone has ever given me, I’m just glad it wasn’t Padfoot’s memory, he’d probably have got it mixed up somehow and I’d have seen a memory of him as Snuffles in the park sniffing other dog’s behinds.

“Always did love a nice ass,” Sirius added with a grin, causing everyone to laugh further completing this breaking of the tension.

Molly announced that dessert would be on the table in five minutes and just to come and grab something whenever you wanted. Albus and Ron got up and followed Molly straight into the kitchen while several other people also got up to spread out into the other rooms or go to the bathroom.

“So Daphne,” said Fred, leaning casually against a wall next to his twin, “We’ve got a question for you.”

Daphne turned her head towards them and Harry already knew that this was either going to be really funny or make him cringe.

“Yes?” Daphne answered, politely.

“We all know that Harry is punching," said George.

“We don't need the speccy git’s specs to see that,” added Fred

“And he'd never seen any girl in a bikini before this summer,” said George.

So we wanna know, at your party, how long did he take to embarrass himself?” asked Fred.

“Did he walk into a wall?”

“Did he miss his mouth when eating?”

“Put his elbow in a butter dish?” George said a smirk at Ginny in the corner.

“Get stuck in the pool with a raging boner?” asked Fred.

“Slip and fall flat on his face?”

“Start talking babsolute gibberblish?”

“How long did it take?” the twins asked in unison.

Daphne grinned and glanced over at Harry, who'd gone bright red when one of the twins’ ideas had been spot on.

“About three hours, give or take,” Daphne, “We decided to start dating a couple of hours later.”

“You are so generous placing your affections on a moron in need, Daphne,” said Fred after he and his twin laughed at her response.

“At least I don’t have to get my tit* out to get a boyfriend,” said Ginny under her breath.

Daphne opened her mouth to retort, feeling heat rising up her neck.

“Actually, Ginny,” Harry corrected, “I decided I wanted to ask Daphne to be my girlfriend before the real party had even started.”

“You did?” asked Daphne, looking at him in surprise.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled, “Just as we left the stables.”

Daphne leaned closer and kissed him. Ginny promptly got up and left the room, and Daphne opened one eye mid-kiss to watch. Smirking through the kiss she felt vindicated.

“Awwwww.” Fred and George said together.

“Such cutie pies,” said Fred, clapping his hands to his face in mock admiration.

“They're adorable,” said George, holding his hands to his chest as if longing for such a love of his own.

“Oh shut up!” said Harry.

They got up to go and get some dessert from the kitchen, Harry got treacle tart while Daphne grabbed some profiteroles. They stayed in there, just standing and holding their bowls and spoons while they ate.

“You know, it was Neville's birthday yesterday,” said Harry.

“I did know, did you get him anything?” asked Daphne, taking a bite of a profiterole.

“There's a hot tub arriving for him this weekend,” Harry replied. Daphne spat her bit of dessert out of her mouth in laughter.

“What is it?” asked Harry, amused.

“My Dad’s cousin is friends with Neville’s Gran. I convinced her to invite her on a little spa break this weekend and wrote Tracey to invite herself to Longbottom Manor.”

“You didn't!” Harry said.

“Yep!” Daphne grinned.

“Unexpected matchmaking high five!” Harry said, raising his hand, which Daphne slapped.

“A whole weekend, just those two and a new hot tub, Tracey probably staying the night,” Daphne said in wonder.

“Wish it were you and me,” Harry replied.

“Harry, if it were you and me, things would get out of hand way too fast,” Daphne warned, batting her eyelashes.

“Oh yeah?” Harry flirted.

“Mhm.” she replied, stepping closer, putting her bowl on the kitchen work surface and placing a hand on his chest.”

“Well it's a good job Neville is as nervous as he is around her then,” Harry said.

“I hope it stays that way unless we want little Nevilles and Traceys running around,” Daphne answered with a laugh.

They chatted for a few more minutes, and then Sirius ushered everyone into the kitchen for Harry’s cake. The lights were turned off, everyone sang “Happy Birthday” (Fred and George as tonelessly as they could), and Harry blew out his candles. When the lights were turned on, Sirius shouted “Speech!” which was echoed by Ron, Tonks and even Daphne, when Harry glanced at her uncertainly at the idea.

“Okay, okay” Harry started. “A speech. I’m not really good at them, the ones I did at the Wizengamot were ruthlessly prepared in advance, but I’ll give it a go. Thank you all for coming, and for all your wonderful presents. Most will be treasured, others will be scoffed down just like Albus and Ron this evening.”

“Ah, my boy, when you get a taste for Molly’s cooking…” Dumbledore said, dreamily staring off into the distance, causing a laugh from everyone.

“It is indeed excellent,” Harry agreed, “In fact, can I get a round of applause for Mrs Weasley for being such an incredible hostess and for clearly having slaved over a hot stove for hours to provide us with all of this amazing food.”

Everyone clapped loudly, Ron put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

“Lastly. It’s been a whirlwind year for a lot of us, with what’s been going on, but all of you people are incredible, and I’m proud to be close to you all. Now please can we have some of this cake? It's been staring at me in face the ever since I walked in.”

Everyone laughed and clapped. The cake was cut and once everyone was done, everybody who wasn't staying started to leave, making sure to wish Harry a happy birthday.

Harry and Daphne spent a while at the table just chatting with Sirius, who'd started the conversation with “What are your intentions for my Godson?”, but had been unable to keep a straight face. Daphne very quickly decided she liked the man.

Ginny wasn’t seen for the rest of the evening, while Hermione, noticing her absence, went up to their room to offer support. Fred and George disappeared up to their room also, and it wouldn’t be long until those walking on the first-floor corridor would hear the random pops, fizzes and bangs that came with their usual experimentations for their new business.

Kreacher and Dobby began tidying up the mess of the party, their appearance signalling the party was over.

“Right you two,” said Sirius, “If we're going to set off before nine tomorrow morning, we better get off to bed soon. Daphne, I've had Dobby move your bag into your room, it's just three doors along the corridor from Harry's and mine and has been spelled to not let boys in for the night.”

Harry and Daphne both visibly sighed in dismay.

“However,” Sirius continued, “I'm a big, extremely mature grown-up whose bedtime isn't for another, say thirty minutes? I do need my beauty sleep though, so I've recently silenced our bedroom door to keep Ron’s snoring out. I'm sure I'll get too tired to sleep any longer in exactly half an hour, so this Dogfather will come to bed then, capisce?”

Harry and Daphne grinned, Harry said “Thanks Sirius,” and both of them immediately got up from the kitchen and ran upstairs.

“I can't believe you just did that, Sirius,” Molly said.

Sirius shrugged, “Eh, we were all young and falling in love once, and it's only half an hour.”

“You can do a lot in half an hour,” pointed out Arthur, not looking up from his instruction manual.

“More like two minutes though, these days, eh Arthur?” teased Sirius.

“Please give me some credit, Mr Black,” Arthur said, “It's at least three.”

“Arthur!” Molly chided with a playful push on her husband’s shoulder, and they all laughed.

The moment Harry and Daphne got into the room and Harry shut the door behind them, Daphne immediately went to kiss her boyfriend. What she wasn't expecting was for him to reach his hands out and place them on her shoulders to stop her. She looked up into his eyes. He was troubled.

“I…I really want to do that, Daphne, but I think we need to talk.” Harry said, walking over and sitting on his bed.

“You…you aren't breaking up with me, are you? she asked as she walked over to sit beside him, suddenly very worried.

“Oh Merlin, no.” Harry replied, “It's just…Everything was so good at your birthday party but then we haven't spoken in weeks. And then I thought it was because of what happened at the trial, I thought you hated me now. When you turned up tonight it was amazing, but I've been gearing up for you telling me you didn't want to see me anymore when we got back to school.”

Daphne made a sigh and pursed her lips. She didn't know where to start, but reached out her hand to hold his, and looked into his eyes, his almost annoyingly gorgeous eyes.

“Okay. First off, everything was initially wonderful between us, but you're right, sort of. I never decided to break up with you, but I'll admit I thought about it.”

“Oh,” Harry said, looking down, sadly, but it wasn't for long as Daphne reached out her other hand to lift his chin so they were again meeting eye to eye.

“Look, this is a long story, but I’ll explain. After the party, the next day I was at home with Tracey when Mum came running over, telling us we needed to go to St.Mungos. Tracey left and Mum side-along apparated Astoria and me there immediately. We got there and Dad was unconscious. They said he was gonna wake up soon, that he'd had a big bleed, had temporarily lost an arm, but it was reattached so he just needed some blood replenishers and he'd wake up in an hour. A couple of hours later, he still hadn't woken up and then alarms started going off. About a dozen healers ran in and stabilised him. It turned out that he'd lost so much blood before the emergency healers got there that his organs had been shutting down, and what they'd thought he needed wasn't so cut and dry.

Right after they explained that to us a House Elf called Dobby who said he’s part of your house turns up with a hamper for my family and a tub of strawberry ice cream for me. I remembered that you had warned me, that it was your plan in the first place and now to me you were the reason my Dad wasn't waking up. My mum stayed in the hospital for three nights, while Astoria and I went home. We visited every day, but Astoria was barely eating. The first morning after it had happened the Daily Prophet came and explained what happened, sort of. I went from being angry at you to almost thinking that I hated you for so recklessly putting my family in danger. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted nothing more to do with you or not. I kept wrestling with myself and thought why on earth didn’t you at least warn someone so there could’ve been Aurors under disillusionment charms or something? But then I reasoned it was likely the Fudge would’ve found out and questioned whoever you had warned, likely Amelia Bones.

Then, on the fourth day, my Dad woke up and explained what had actually happened. He’d said he was safe until he decided to get involved, that the Death Eaters had seen him, didn’t raise a wand to him and he’d protected himself from the beginning from any physical collateral damage. He said that he’d heard a Cruciatus and then took a glimpse over the seat in front of him and saw you were massively pinned down behind a wall or something. He remembered how much you’ve done for our family and thought about what the benefits would be for everyone if you made it through this so he decided to give you a diversion. Then he lost his arm to a Diffindo and was bleeding so heavily that he nearly passed out straight away. He said that shortly after you then appeared next to him, managed to reattach his arm with what was likely a family spell and spoke to him briefly before he passed out.

I couldn’t believe it, I went home and tried to reevaluate things. My Dad wasn’t really in any danger from your plan. At the time the Death Eaters respected him enough because they knew him and he’d had an okay relationship with them. It was only when he chose to help you that they’d attacked. You warned us in advance and likely knew what danger or lack of he might be in but you advised us anyway as a precaution. I still think the plan was stupid but I was no longer mad.

I spent the next month just in my room, unsure of what to do. Only really then with this happening did it hit home at what kind of danger I would be in if I chose to be with you, but then I realised my father had chosen to help you already, the Greengrasses, or at least him were going to be a target anyway. We’d chosen a side.

Then, after not hearing from me either, Tracey came over and we had a chat. She reminded me what you said about how you felt about my family, that I made you feel strong and that things weren’t so scary anymore. She helped me to remember how you made me feel valued and respected my independence and you made me feel like I can grow strong with you. I realised I want you to keep making me feel that way and how being with you would make me feel driven to be better and that being with you I wouldn’t just be some poncy Lord’s broodmare but could live my life as I wished. I wanted to feel proud to help you, to get through challenges together and to be there for you when you needed me. But then, it had been too long, and you hadn’t contacted me in a month either. I thought maybe you didn't want me anymore. I didn’t know why, but I was worried you were scared you would put me in danger by being with me, or something. Then I thought, “Damnit, it’s my choice if I want to put myself in danger” and realised it was up to me, that I should reach out for what I wanted. I was about to write to you when a letter came from Sirius asking me to come and stay for your birthday in a week but with no discussion about what had happened or how you felt, just a simple invitation. I decided to wait a week until I saw you to speak to you, so I could explain in person, rather than just through a letter.”

“Wow,” said Harry, “There’s so much there I didn’t know. Thanks for explaining to me. The only reason why I didn’t contact you was because I thought you would contact me if you wanted to.”

“That was the right thing to do, at first,” Daphne replied, smiling sadly, “But then, there wasn’t even a letter saying hope your Dad is doing okay and I just thought maybe you didn’t care anymore.”

“Of course I did,” Harry said, frowning, “I do. I know whatever this is is really new, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth exploring further.”

“That’s exactly what Tracey said,” Daphne said.

“Remind me to thank her,” said Harry, before asking, “So, still together then?”

“Still together,” she replied, kissing him softly. When they broke apart, Harry sighed happily, kicked his shoes off and lay down on his double bed, flat on his back, both arms raised and he rested his head on his hands. Daphne removed her little black pumps as well, one by one, and then climbed over him to lay at his side, propping herself up on her elbow, her back to the wall.

“It’s always a good day when you’re here,” Harry said.

“I know what you mean.”

Daphne looked around the room. Clearly, it had been magically expanded to fit the two double beds and the two sets of wardrobes and desks, and she was willing to bet the en-suite bathroom had been expanded as well. She looked over at Sirius’ unmade bed and some of his “artwork” on the wall above it.

“Those posters are very…interesting,” Daphne said, “The ones next to Sirius’ bed.”

Harry knew exactly which pictures she was talking about.

“They were at first,” he replied, “But then they reminded me of you in that bikini and that I would never see anything as awesome again.”

“Well, you were wrong then, weren’t you? I plan on getting you in my hot tub again as soon as I can.”

It was clear then, the emotional talk part of the short time together was over. They looked at each other, Daphne on her side facing Harry, Harry moving up in bed, still laid on his back but now was reclined with half his back resting against the headboard and his head tilting towards her. There was tension, yet they were waiting, daring each other to make the first move.

“I'll look forward to it,” Harry said, swallowing as he glanced down at her cleavage in the pearlescent vest top. Daphne flicked her long, flowing hair behind her face.

“Me too,” Daphne replied, thinking just how much she loved how his forearms looked, Harry having rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. Harry looked into his girlfriend's face, taking in her piercing blue eyes, surrounded by a thick line of eyeliner and her glossy but only slightly pink-tinted lip gloss. She was unreal, but still, who was gonna make the first move?

“You know, I love the lip gloss,” Harry said, “I'd very much like to kiss it off.”

“You would, would you? Daphne replied with a sexy half smile and challenging eyebrow raised, ”I think the first thing that needs to come off is that shirt.”

Harry swallowed, “It might,” he replied, “But I'm so very tired from all the training I've done today, I'm afraid I can't do it all by myself.”

“Oh my poor baby,” Daphne replied in mock sympathy, sitting up and resting on her knees beside him. “You're too tired?”

Harry nodded with fake sadness.

“Well, I mean I guess I could do it for you,” Daphne replied, like he was asking a lot of her. She raised herself up on her knees, and Harry was treated to a brief view down Daphne's top at her generous cleavage as she leaned forward and lifted a leg of the bed, moving to straddle his pelvis.

She looked glorious on top of him, her golden hair appearing like a halo around her head. He looked at the way her pleated skirt had ridden up slightly,

exposing half of the smooth, creamy flesh of her thighs and swallowed. Instinctively he reached out to touch them, but Daphne slapped his hands away.

“Ah ah ahh,” Daphne said, smirking while waving a finger in his face, “Your arms are too tired, remember?”

“Of course,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes in frustration but willing to play the game.

“You know what, though, I think my bra is tired too,” Daphne replied with a serious nod, pulling each white bra strap beneath her top down her arms and then bending each arm to pull both straps free of her body. Harry could barely breathe as she leaned backwards, slightly exposing her stomach and unclipped a clasp at her back. Then, she reached into the front of her top, pulled out her lacy white bra and threw it next to him.

She smirked at his stunned expression but didn’t give him another second before she proceeded to unbutton his shirt, step by step exposing the strong muscles of his chest. By the end, she'd decided his abdominal muscles were definitely her favourite part. As she finished her unbuttoning she vigorously pulled the shirt open completely, looking longingly at him. Gazing down at his athletic form, she couldn't help but unintentionally wiggle her hips on top of him. Her eyes widened in shock and she held back a gasp when she realised she could feel Harry's hardness through his trousers, and that she was wearing a skirt.

Harry himself had gasped from the sensation of her movement and decided right then and there that he couldn't take the teasing anymore. He lifted Daphne slightly and adjusted his position so his back was at a steeper incline and reached out to her to pull her lips towards him.

As he adjusted, they felt another one of the excellent rubbing sensations again and her first proper gasp Daphne made from his sudden movement turned into a faint muffled moan as their lips met and she felt Harry's bulge beneath her. Harry felt Daphne gently begin to probe his tongue with her own, and as he lost himself in the sensation, he felt himself needing to also move his, to recreate that sensation also. Deliberately he moved beneath her. She tried to as well, but she pushed as he pulled. They tried again, but they were out of sync, getting frustrated. The kissing was excellent but what they wanted just wasn't happening. He placed his hand on her hips and started gently guiding her into a slow, grinding rhythm.

Their breathing was getting heavier and Daphne was getting worked up. She broke the kiss and leaned backwards atop him, still grinding herself on him. She looked down at his bare chest, his messed up hair from her running her hands through it, his slightly parted lips and his darkened emerald eyes that were boring into her like he was being mounted by a goddess.

He made her so incredibly sexy, she wanted him to be closer to her, and confirming a decision she'd contemplated earlier, she smirked in anticipation of what the look on his face would be when she did what she did next.

Harry lay there, heady sensations rolling through him as Daphne ground her pelvis onto his and he watched her slightly flushed chest breathing heavily in her top. She smirked at him sexily and then reached her hands up to slide her pearlescent vest top’s straps off her shoulders before pulling the garment down, baring her pair of magnificent breasts to him. Of course, he'd seen no other breasts to compare them to in real life, but they were easily as perfect as the girls he’d seen on page three of muggle newspapers from time to time. Generous, round and sitting high on her chest, the supple cream flesh was adorned by perfectly proportional pale pink nipples, so pale they were almost the colour of the skin beneath. Daphne, not skipping a beat, reached for his hands at her waist and pulled them her breasts and Harry gently began to squeeze and play with them. She leaned down again, kissing him passionately their steady rocking slowly getting faster and she softly whimpered with the kiss as he took his thumbs and forefinger and gently pinched her pebbling nipples. She moved deeper into the kiss, but being pushed further down meant it was beginning to hurt Harry’s wrists, so he instead pushed her backwards, planting his feet on the bed and sliding himself backwards to sit fully upright. As grinding started to turn into humping, Harry trailed kisses from her lips and down her neck.

“Yes, Harry,” Daphne said, beginning to moan a little louder now, “Put your mouth on them.”

Harry needed no convincing and his hands returned to her hips as he pulled her towards him and his lips found their way to an erect nipple. He marvelled at how soft the skin felt on his lips and Daphne, lost in the new feeling let out a long, drawn-out, breathy moan that drove Harry further on. He sucked and licked and couldn't get enough. Daphne was rocking faster now and Harry was pulling her in time. Their need grew and grew and Harry dropped his hands below her skirt to grab onto the firm yet pillowy flesh of her ass and force more powerful movement between them. Faster and faster, Harry and Daphne, completely lost in the moment, drove each other to new heights. She moaned louder and really started giving it to him as he lavished her breasts with attention, Harry starting to feel tension in his manhood building up. He felt her legs start to tremble on either side of him, but he just kept going. A louder moan now, but it stopped suddenly as her whole body tensed up and her chest flushed completely and the tension in his co*ck overflowed and he felt himself come in his boxers, making him release his mouth from her breasts and let out a lower guttural groan as the tension of her org*sm dissipated and the silent scream evolved into a loud moan. Their rocking began to slow down and she kissed him softly before they finally stopped moving. She pulled away from the kiss, and breathing heavily they both looked at each other in astonishment for a moment before Daphne leaned to one side and off of him.

A few moments after hitting the pillow, they both started laughing.

When their little mutual giggle finished, Daphne, who was laid on her side again and was running her fingertips along his abs said, “Told you we might get a little out of hand.”

“We did a bit, but it was amazing.” Harry replied with a grin, “Two minutes, I…er, need to clean up.”

Daphne smiled and nodded, and Harry went to a chest of drawers and nipped into the bathroom.

A couple of minutes later Daphne was still on his bed, though now covered up. Harry buttoned up his shirt, laid down again and Daphne rested her head on his chest.

Harry sighed, and said, “I'm so comfy right now, I hate that that you can't sleep in here tonight.”

“I know,” Daphne replied, “But we've got a lot of the day tomorrow to spend together.”

“Yeah, I just don't know when we're going to get a chance to be like that together at Hogwarts,” Harry said.

“Empty classrooms are a thing,” Daphne replied with a grin.

Harry grinned too, and opened his mouth to speak when there was a loud knock on the door.

They looked at each other, and smiled a mutual sat smile, realising their time was up. Daphne gave him a long kiss and said “See you in the morning, and happy birthday"

“Thanks, see you in the morning,” Harry replied.

Daphne got up, slipped her shoes back on and went to the door.

“Night Sirius,” Harry heard her say, and heard his Godfather wish his girlfriend goodnight a moment later.

When Sirius came in, he gave Harry a cheesy grin and a waggle of his eyebrows and asked “Good party then?”

“The best,” Harry replied, ignoring the teasing expression, “Thanks for inviting her, Padfoot.”

“No worries pup, what are Godfathers for?”