CwD
Harry raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on his chair. "So, this is an apology meeting?"
"That is the stated purpose of why we are here," Malakai said coolly, his eye twitching ever so slightly.
They had all taken their seats in the long table with the Warringtons and Greengrass' on one side and Harry and Andromeda on the other.
"My son has informed me that he acted without proper dignity. Someone with his prospects should have never acted the way he did." The bearded man clicked his fingers, his voice sharp. "Cassius."
Cassius cleared his throat stiffly and forced out the words as if they pained him.
"I behaved poorly. I disrespected your… position, and I… regret it."
The lie was so transparent, it practically left a trail.
"Astoria."
Astoria practically jumped out of her skin at her father's voice but quickly recovered. She crossed her arms but gave a forced, clipped nod. "I apologise for how I spoke to you, Potter. It was… beneath me."
Harry nodded slowly, a million and one questions running through his head. Turning, he looked over to Dumbledore who gave him an encouraging look, his eyes twinkling beneath his half-moon glasses.
"Water under the bridge..." The teen sighed.
"You seem… disappointed, Lord Black." Matthias mentioned with a raised eyebrow.
"Forgive me but I expected more from this meeting than two weightless apologies." He replied bluntly much to Dumbledore and Andromeda's chagrin, the latter who tapped his knee warningly.
Matthias merely smirked in response and it was only after a moment later did he speak. "Cassius, why don't you escort Astoria back to your dormitories."
Cassius looked over to his father for the final verdict who gave a single nod.
"Gladly," the older boy muttered, standing up. "If you will excuse me then." He sent one last expressionless look to Harry, his eyes the only thing that was displaying his inner feelings before turning to Astoria.
Astoria sneered at Harry but her expression immediately vanished when she caught the steely eyes of Andromeda.
Mumbling out an excuse me, she took Cassius' offered arm and the pair left the room, leaving the remaining occupants behind.
"Now then, can we finally get to the real crux of this meeting?"
"You're far different from what I heard, Lord Black." Matthias chuckled.
"Am I now?" Harry drawled.
"Sixteen years old and already the head of two houses… quite unprecedented, even more so when one of these houses is the House of Black. And now I hear, apprentice to Magical Britain's Premier Mage? May I offer my congratulations."
Harry inclined his head but didn't respond, opting to study Matthias in silence, his expression unreadable.
"My work is in brokerage," the Greengrass Lord said after a moment. "International trade, to be precise. My business facilitates transactions between powerful houses across Europe and parts of Asia – assets, contracts, properties. For generations, House Greengrass and House Black maintained a discreet, yet lucrative alliance. As recent as my father and the previous head of your house – Lord Arcturus Black."
At his words, Harry felt a subtle, almost imperceptible flinch from Andromeda.
"I assume this partnership no longer stands," Harry said, voice careful.
"Indeed," Matthias replied with a faint nod. "The arrangement was unexpectedly terminated two years ago. Rather unceremoniously, and without any formal explanation. Because of this, a bill I was hoping to pass granting legal immunity and confidentiality protections to people in my profession had lost traction with the other Lords."
Harry frowned.
"That's not possible," Andromeda said slowly, her brow furrowed. "Hadrian hadn't claimed the Black Lordship then. And I… I wasn't yet reinstated into the family."
Her mind raced.
Two years ago… the only other living Black with even the thinnest claim to the family seat was Sirius. But Sirius had been on the run. Why one earth would he risk getting caught going to Gringotts to sever a generation-old business deal…?
She looked across the table and saw Matthias Greengrass staring back directly at her; his cold, electric blue eyes unblinking as if he could see something she couldn't.
Her pulse climbed, blood thudded in her ears like the sounds of an elephant's stampede.
Greengrass…
A flicker of a memory surfaced in her mind.
Sifting through Ted's papers after his funeral… sitting at their old dining table… the name Greengrass written in careful script, circled twice in Ted's neat, clerk-like hand.
Her fingers began to tremble.
Sirius had known something… something she didn't. Why else would he sever such a long-lasting relationship?
Startled, she was brought out of her reverie when she felt Harry place his hand over hers.
"And so, you sought me out to renegotiate a deal?" Harry asked, his voice even.
Matthias's eyes narrowed. "I would like to know first why the deal was severed in the first place."
Harry shrugged indifferently. "I couldn't say. As my mother said, neither of us had access to the Black estate then. Perhaps you'd have better luck asking the Goblins."
The teen returned Matthias' unblinking gaze unwaveringly and eventually, the older man slowly inclined his head.
"Very well. I will have my people draft up a new contract – "
" – I'd need to consult with the Potter Charter Group first," Harry interrupted mildly. "I need to know whether the partnership would be… mutually beneficial."
Malakai bristled, but Matthias spoke up, his smile thin and diplomatic.
"Of course," he said smoothly. "I expect nothing less."
"If that is all then… " Harry began, looking over to Dumbledore who was staring back proudly, "I'll be taking my leave."
"There's one more thing that needs to be addressed."
Harry's gaze shifted, curious now, as Malakai Warrington fixed him with narrowed eyes.
"What is your relationship with Daphne?"
Harry's grip on Andromeda's hand tightened unconsciously. She remained undeterred but couldn't help the curiosity from building.
"Acquaintances? Peers? Arch enemies?" Harry drawled with a smirk, masking his surprise behind his Occlumency. He chanced a look at Matthias but was unable to discern the man's emotions.
Do they know?
"I don't understand what you're trying to get at, Lord Warrington."
Malakai pursed his lips, gripping his armchair tightly. "A few, unruly whispers have reached my, our, ears regarding your conduct."
Andromeda's cold voice cut across the room.
"I'd advise you to tread carefully, Lord Warrington. Keep in mind that you are speaking to the Lord Black of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."
The bearded man reached into his coat and retrieved a folded magazine. He slid it across the table toward them, his voice rough. "Do not misunderstand. This isn't idle gossip."
A full-spread, animated image from the Witch Weekly greeted him. Daphne and him, seated together in the library. She was leaning in, pointing at something in a book. Their shoulders brushed, their hands inches apart. In one looped moment, their eyes met and Harry's expression shifted from neutral to a quiet, unmistakable grin.
He remembered that day vividly. The meet was planned after all. But… he didn't realise that's how he and Daphne looked from the outside perspective…
Though there was one thing that was curious. The image wasn't a photograph; Harry would've easily noticed at the time if someone had snapped a picture of them.
It's a memory…
Someone had submitted their memory to this hogwash of a magazine, Harry thought annoyed. Which means someone had gone out of their way to frame the scene. To escalate a benign moment into something that it wasn't.
But who…?
Harry pushed the magazine back. "This means nothing."
"Perhaps," Malakai said tersely, "but it casts both the Greengrass and Warrington names in a questionable light. You may be able to weather the oncoming storm but it will not be the same for Lord Greengrass and I.."
Harry's tone was clipped. "And I'm telling you that you're turning this into something that it isn't. Miss Greengrass and I are merely Potions partners. Forced to work together on a project set by Professor Slughorn. The work requires collaboration which is what you're seeing in front of you."
"Potter speaks the truth."
All eyes turned to a reluctant Snape who couldn't keep the distaste off his face.
"Professor Slughorn assigned Potter and Miss Greengrass to work together on the compulsory project that is assigned to every Sixth Year at the beginning of the year. This year he had assigned coursework that requires a partner to complete." Snape scoffed, his eyes flicking to Harry with disdain. "Not that I can say I am pleased with his changes."
"The decision was approved by the Department of Magical Education." Dumbledore added, folding his hands. "Madam Marchbanks signed off on it herself."
Malakai frowned. "So, it wasn't of their own arrangement?"
"No," Snape sneered. "Though what Miss Greengrass chooses to do with her time outside class is not my concern."
Harry's brow arched, but he didn't bite. Snape defending him, even half-heartedly, was strange enough without questioning it aloud.
"Daphne is spoken for," Matthias began after a long silence, rising from his seat. "I trust you will remember that when you work with her, Lord Black."
Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously as he mirrored the man. "I do not like what you're insinuating, Lord Greengrass."
"I am not insinuating anything," Matthias said, voice smooth as glass. "Only advising that you remain within the boundaries of your station."
A flicker of cold amusement crossed Harry's face.
"I wasn't aware that I required permission to speak with your daughter, Lord Greengrass."
There it is again… Harry thought as he saw the ironclad mask of Matthias Greengrass falter once more, those familiar electric blue eyes darkening.
Daphne seems to be a sore spot. I wonder…
Before Matthias could utter a response, Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly.
"I believe this meeting has reached its natural end."
"I agree, Headmaster." Andromeda murmured, her tone frostbitten as she stared daggers at the two men.
The tension thickened like fog as Malakai and Matthias turned to leave, their goodbyes far less polite this time. Just as they reached the fireplace however, Harry's voice cut the silence.
"I imagine it's difficult."
Matthias paused. "I beg your pardon?"
"Having a daughter like Miss Greengrass." Harry elaborated, his tone casual.
The Greengrass Lord turned fully, his expression unreadable.
"Astoria is – "
" – I meant Daphne."
A flash of something passed through Matthias's eyes. Surprise? Annoyance? It was gone too quickly for Harry to be sure.
"From the brief time I've interacted with her, I've noticed her to be incredibly composed, formidable and highly intelligent. Characteristics, I imagine, certain families would kill for to have in an heir," the teen said, spinning a ring on his finger back and forth before flicking his emerald eyes up. "You must be very proud."
Dumbledore, watching Harry closely, frowned as a sense of déjà vu prickled through him.
"All three of my daughters have been raised with certain expectations, Lord Black. Like Astoria, Daphne remembers and adheres to them as befitted of someone who holds the Greengrass name."
" – Which is why I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when I found out Astoria was due to inherit your estate and not Daphne. Quite unprecedented among families, no?" Harry said, feigning thoughtfulness.
Matthias' face went completely blank as he studied the teen opposite him until he offered a guileless smile, inclining his head slightly.
"Until we meet again, Lord Black, Madam Black. Gentlemen."
And with that, the two Lords vanished into the green flames, leaving a scowling Harry behind.
"Smarmy fucking bastard," he muttered under his breath.
"Language Hadrian…" Andromeda admonished wearily, letting out a slow exhale before turning to Dumbledore. "It is time I leave as well. I am not ashamed to admit that after this afternoon, it feels as though I've aged a couple of years."
"I do not doubt you, my dear," Dumbledore sighed, shooting Harry a look. "You certainly have a way with your words."
Harry rolled his eyes, taking Andromeda's hand. "I'll show mother out, if that's fine?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Though before you do…"
He gave Harry a meaningful glance, then turned to Snape.
Harry grimaced. "Really?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. Completely undeterred, he glanced toward Andromeda, who now looked both confused and interested.
The meaning was evident.
"Fine," Harry relented with a sigh. He turned to Snape, who regarded him like a particularly unpleasant stain. "I… apologise for not attending your classes, Professor. I'll be there from now on."
"If it was up to me, I would have taken great glee dropping you from the course the very moment you missed my first lesson," Snape sneered before lifting his chin. "I will not wait for you to catch up on the many, many classes you missed, Potter."
Andromeda hissed under her breath and fixed her son with a look that made Harry feel like he'd been hexed. "I assure you, Professor Snape, Hadrian will not miss another class again. If there are any more similar incidents, please contact me immediately."
Harry's annoyed expression faltered under Andromeda's withering glare. "Yes, yes… alright, fine. Can we go already?" He said, tugging at her hand.
Andromeda sighed. "If you will excuse me then, gentlemen."
"Do take care my dear and you as well, Miss White," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. "Oh, and Harry, I shall see you tomorrow as usual. Though I do hope you have read through chapter five of the material I gave you – "
" – I'll read it tonight!" Harry exclaimed over his shoulder, dragging a reluctant Andromeda.
The sounds of Dumbledore's chuckles faded away as the pair made their way down the spiral staircase and into the hallway.
"Where are we going?" Andromeda asked, casting a fond eye over the walls.
"The lake. Should be empty by now."
The older woman hummed her approval as they exited through the front doors. The wind had grown sharper, curling around them with the bite of early autumn. She pulled her robes tighter, offering thin smiles to the few students who were brave enough to catch her eyes.
Reaching the large tree which overlooked the waters, Harry shooed away a red-faced couple, who were getting far too handsy with each other, before proceeding to wave his wand around, casting several powerful privacy charms.
"That should do it," Harry nodded then turned around abruptly, his steely gaze not on Andromeda, but just behind her. "Come out."
Sierra shimmered into view before a scowling Harry, her posture defensive as she attempted a weak smile that did nothing to diffuse the tension that had settled.
"We had a deal." Harry hissed, taking a threatening step forward just as Sierra took a step back.
"I was careful!" The redhead immediately lashed out, pointing an accusatory finger towards Andromeda. "She somehow found out!"
"She has a name," Andromeda replied coolly, once again moving to stand between the two and placed her hand firmly on Harry's chest. "Enough, Hadrian. Sierra is not at fault. If you want to blame someone, blame me. I'm the one who forced her to reveal herself."
Harry's expression tightened, his magic rippling beneath his skin. But after a long moment, he exhaled through his nose and backed off, the shine in his emerald eyes dimming.
"Have there been any issues?" he questioned quietly, glancing at Sierra.
Sierra lowered her hands, cautiously taking a step closer though ensuring Andromeda remained as her buffer.
"Other than the usual death threats whispered about? Nothing. I inspect every room, goblet, door, and cushion before Madam Black touches it." She turned briefly to Andromeda. "Your office chair at the Ministry had a hex stitched into its seams. Removed it."
Andromeda blinked. "I-I didn't know – "
" – But I did," Sierra said simply. "Just doing what I'm good at."
Harry threaded his fingers through his hair, his eyes darkening. "You don't who did it?"
"No… could've been anyone."
"I suppose… you've done well." He reluctantly said after a moment, looking away. "Glad my money is not being wasted."
Andromeda rolled her eyes fondly whilst Sierra scoffed loudly.
"Got any plans after this?"
Andromeda shook her head with a content sigh. "Not until next Monday. First weekend off in a while."
Harry nodded before turning to look at the redhead. "Take a break, White. I'll get Winky to take mother home."
Sierra beamed before narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "This aint a trick, is it?"
"Just shut up and take my offer or don't for all I care." Harry snapped.
"Right, well brilliant! Thanks, I guess… Oh! I – uh – I don't have much gold left..."
Sighing at Sierra's bashful expression, the teen called for Dobby.
"Throw her some gold, Dobby, and then drop her off at some roadside or something – "
" – What?! No – "
" – At once, Master Harry!" Dobby saluted, seizing Sierra's arm.
"Oi – "
Pop.
"You ought to be nicer to the girl, Hadrian." Andromeda said mildly, fixing Harry with a look.
"She's a mercenary, she'll be grand. Besides, she did try to kill me, y'know…"
" – Yes and then you hired your would-be killer to guard me." The older woman responded dryly.
"Only because her skills are somewhat decent." Harry said begrudgingly. "Even Dumbledore thought it was a good idea."
Andromeda sighed before taking him in her arms. "Tell me next time, okay?"
Harry melted into her embrace, his head falling into her shoulder as he held her tight. "Sorry."
"I've missed you, sweetie." She whispered, running her fingers gently through his long hair. When they pulled apart, she cupped his cheeks. "You've been eating, haven't you?"
Harry rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I'd be all bones if I wasn't."
"Don't be cheeky, Hadrian," Andromeda huffed. "And your potions?"
Harry groaned. "Everyday."
"Excellent. Now… tell me about this Daphne Greengrass."
"There's nothing to tell that you don't know already."
Harry's tone had shifted enough for Andromeda to arch an unimpressed brow. "Only that you shared a rather clandestine dance with her in your Fourth Year… and now you're bringing her up in front of her father of all people?"
"Huh… did I say that?" Harry muttered, feigning innocence. When she didn't so much as blink, he sighed. "It's just like I said – Slughorn paired us up for a project only because I was forced to sit next to her. That's it. We've been meeting for academic reasons. Strictly academic. There's nothing extra going on."
"I didn't say anything." Andromeda said, hiding a smile.
"You didn't have to," the teen scowled. "I know that look."
She rolled her eyes good naturedly before her tone became cautious. "And… Hermione?"
There was the barest flicker in his jaw – too quick for most to catch, but not her.
"We're fine," Harry replied, a bit too brightly. A carefully constructed smile followed, one that Andromeda read through like smoke.
She stepped closer and reached up, brushing his fringe aside as if he were still a little boy.
"Everything happens for a reason, Hadrian," she said gently. "You'll be alright. I know you will."
Harry exhaled through his nose, then tightened his grip on her hand. "Mother… about the cancellation of the business contract with the Greengrass'."
Andromeda's smile faded. She drew in a long breath. "Yes… Sirius."
"So, it was him?" Harry's brow furrowed.
She nodded. "It could only have been. Back then, only Sirius had the authority to touch the family contracts — even if the Ministry branded him a fugitive."
"But not to the Goblins," Harry said quietly, eyes narrowing with understanding. "Earlier… I felt as though you knew something more?"
Andromeda's lips parted, then closed. Her eyes glossed over and for a moment she didn't speak.
"Mother…?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, blinking quickly. "Just… old ghosts. Old memories."
"Is this – Is this about Ted?" Harry asked gently.
A watery chuckle escaped her. "I forget sometimes that you're part Lily as well. She was always too perceptive for her own good."
Then her smile faded into something harder.
"I think the Greengrass' had something to do with Ted's death, Hadrian."
Harry stilled. "You what?"
" – It's why I had asked you to stay away from them before," Andromeda murmured, pressing her palm to her temple. "I've just – just always had this feeling, something I couldn't ever shake. Like a thread I've never been able to pull free."
"How?" Harry whispered. "Why even?"
"I-I do not know..." Andromeda's voice grew solemn. "But I need to look into it. Have you heard of Benson and Benson."
Harry frowned. "The magical law firm?"
"The very same," she confirmed. "Ted had managed to secure an internship there before our relationship became public. Anyway, he'd kept some documents – notes from his time as a clerk. I'm not sure if those documents survived that night with… with Bellatrix… but I'm hoping they were transferred to the vaults. It might contain some clues."
Harry's eyes darkened at the name. Forcing the surge of anger and disgust down, he took her other hand in his own.
"That means you'd need this. Here." He pressed the Black ring against the ring Andromeda wore signifying her status as Lady Black and instantly, a surge of magic travelled from Harry's ring and into hers. "This should get you into the vaults even if I'm not there."
Andromeda smiled gratefully. "Thank you, love."
"Should we tell Nym? She might be able to pull Auror files from the day Ted died. Something sealed or – or buried."
"Not yet," Andromeda shook her head. "She likely has a lot on her plate right now. She just received a promotion. Placed directly in Madam Bones' personal security detail."
Harry gaped. "Wow, the stupid git didn't even tell me."
"Nor me. I only heard from Alastor. But I'm sure it must've just slipped her mind, darling." The older woman said consolingly. "She's been awfully busy lately. Even I barely get the chance to see her. It's like both my children have abandoned their poor old mother."
Harry rolled his eyes, the tension abating.
Faintly, the sound of the school bell chiming was heard. The autumn sun was setting, bathing the grounds in a soft, yellow hue.
"It's late. Time for you to head back. Last thing we need is rumours to go around about you having a secret rendezvous with a mysterious, black-haired beauty." Andromeda giggled.
Harry ignored her teasing and instead hesitated, lips drawn tight.
She stepped forward and embraced him once more, her hands cradling the back of his head, kissing his cheeks tenderly like she used to when he was younger.
"When will I see you again?" Harry asked quietly, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
"Hogsmeade, I should think!" she said brightly, pulling back with a warm smile. Then her tone shifted, just enough to remind him she was still his mother. "Now then; no more missing classes, Hadrian. Training is important, but so is your education. Keep your grades up. Yes?"
"Yes," Harry repeated with a sigh, chastised.
Andromeda gave a satisfied nod, then reached up to trace his eyebrows with her thumb as though committing his face to memory.
"I love you, my darling son. So very much."
Harry's heart swelled at her words. "Love you too… mother."
CwD
"You're quiet today."
Harry's shoulder brushed gently against Daphne's as she delicately sliced the Fairy Leaves. "Could say the same for you."
"I'm always like this."
"Really…? It's no wonder they call you the Silent Queen," Harry muttered, only to wince as Daphne pressed her foot firmly over his.
"Rough day," he said, dragging a hand across his face. "You?"
"Rough day," Daphne echoed, softer.
They returned to their work in silence. The sound of Daphne's knife tapping rhythmically against the board intertwined with the quiet rustle of parchment as Harry turned a page.
Slice.
Turn.
Slice.
Turn.
Slice.
" – I met your father today."
The sound of the knife clattering onto the cutting board echoed sharply around the room.
Daphne turned to face him, her eyes wide, more with disbelief than fear. "What…?"
"You didn't know he was coming?"
Her throat bobbed. "No. He didn't tell me."
"Figured," Harry muttered quietly. "He had a lot to say, your old man, and yet at the same time, he didn't say much at all."
"That sounds like him." Daphne said humourlessly after a moment. "Why did he want to meet you?"
"To apologise. Him and Lord Warrington. On your sister and that silver-haired twat's behalf. For the way they acted towards me that day with Fiona."
Daphne's eyebrows rose. "Lord Warrington was there too?"
Harry nodded.
"Oh."
He continued. "The whole apology thing was clearly a farse though."
"He wanted to see you for himself." Daphne deduced with a sigh.
Despite the tension, Harry cracked a smile.
"Bingo."
They lapsed into silence again. The earlier tension lingered, but now there was something heavier beneath it. Daphne kept her eyes fixed on the cutting board, though her hands didn't move.
"Your father didn't say much," Harry carried on. "Asked a few things. Pointed out a business contract between the Greengrass' and the Blacks that was voided two years ago."
Daphne frowned. "Business contract?"
He sighed. "Don't ask, even I didn't know."
"What else?"
"Offered me his congratulations – for the Lordships and the whole Premier Mage thing. It was clear he was trying to sound polite about it, but it felt like I was in a duelling pit with a competent Lucius Malfoy." The teen said dryly.
Daphne pursed her lips, looking away.
"I'm sorry."
Harry, very gently, tugged at her ear, just enough for her to turn back to him.
"It's not your fault. Anyway... it only confirmed a few things I'd already guessed."
She batted his hand away, half-hearted. "Like what?"
"Like your family's got a closet full of skeletons." He paused. "And you've been carrying a lot more than you let on."
Daphne looked away, her voice faltering slightly. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."
"We all have a past, Daphne."
"It doesn't always need to be told," she whispered.
Harry offered her an understanding smile. "Then it'll weigh on you for the rest of your life, trust me."
"H-How could you know?" Her question wasn't meant as an accusation. More like a plea of someone desperate for an answer.
Harry reached out and gently tilted her chin, guiding her gaze back to his.
"Because when I look at you, I sometimes see myself from the past. Like I want to forget it all. Even now… those feelings are not completely gone…" he trailed off quietly.
Daphne's lips parted, her chest rising with uneven breaths as something cracked open inside her.
And suddenly – without warning – a locked away memory surged forth into her mind.
"IT WAS BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU KILLED HIM! MY SON! MY SON WHO'S LIFE YOU DRAINED! YOU TOOK IT ALL!"
"FIRST ASTORIA AND NOW – NOW HIM! YOU'VE CURSED US! YOU CURSED THEM!"
"IF ONLY… "
"IF ONLY…"
Her vision blurred. The room tilted.
She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block it out – the screams, her mother's face, the relentless blame.
Her heart pounded like it wanted out of her chest.
"It's okay," Harry murmured, stepping closer.
His hand lifted, hesitating for only moment before he threaded it gently through her hair – an anchor in the storm. She sank into it without thinking.
"I-I don't know if I can…" she whispered, barely audible.
Harry brought both hands to her cheeks, warming her frozen skin. Slowly, she opened her eyes — wet, dazed, but seeing him.
"Sometimes… sometimes, we've just got to be a little brave, Daphne."
Daphne didn't answer straightaway.
Gaining her courage, she reached into her pocket, her fingers brushing over something before curling around it.
"What is it?" Harry asked, dropping his hands.
She wavered, then slowly drew out a folded piece of parchment. It was creased – as if it was scrunched up and unfolded a few times.
"A letter – from my father." she said quietly, holding it out to him.
Taking it gently, Harry unfolded it whilst Daphne led him by the hand to a cozy loveseat she had summoned.
As he began to read, her hands clenched in her lap, her posture ramrod straight.
She looked away, as if she was afraid of how he was going to react.
It didn't take long. When he did look up, his face was calm, but his jaw was tight.
"This isn't a letter… more like a directive." Harry said neutrally, tapping the edge of the letter with two fingers.
Daphne gave a small nod, almost imperceptible. "I know."
" – He doesn't even use your name." His voice was sharper now. "Just... 'Daughter.' Like a chess piece he forgot to move – look at me, Daphne."
She did. No mask this time – only tired defiance and something like fear burning beneath it.
"Why show me this?" Harry asked softly.
"Because I want you to know that whatever he asked of me... it's not why I'm here. Not anymore." Daphne said, mirroring his tone, her gaze clear and undeterred.
Harry didn't respond right away. His thumb ran once along the edge of the letter before he folded it neatly, placing it on the cushion between them like something fragile that neither of them wanted to touch again.
"You're not him," he said finally; emerald, green meeting electric blue. "That's enough for me."
She blinked, startled by how easily he said it, how simply he could come to that conclusion.
Standing up, Harry shot out a quick Tempus. "C'mon. We stayed a bit longer than usual and now its past curfew."
Harry extended his hand to Daphne who took it gracefully but when she went to pull it back, she realised he hadn't let go.
"Harry?"
" – Grab the Cloak. I want to show you something."
Daphne blinked rapidly, her pulse rising. "W-What is it?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, it won't be a surprise if I tell you, now will it?"
Her spirits lifted as his infectious energy began to fill the room again.
"I-I don't trust you." She said weakly, crossing her arms over her chest in mock defiance.
Harry snorted. "Yeah right. Just go get your stuff whilst I tidy up the room a bit. You've haven't lost my Cloak or anything, have you?"
Daphne scowled. "Of course not, you prat. Who do you think I am?"
The black-haired teen smirked and to her horror, patted her head.
"Two minutes." He chuckled over his shoulder, seeing the mortified look on her face.
CwD
"Will you tell me where you're taking me already?" Daphne asked once Harry met her by the door, her foot tapping the floor impatiently.
"I already told you that it's a surprise, princess. That's unless you've got somewhere else to be?"
"Well, I would like to head to my bed, Potter." Daphne scowled, the tips of her ears reddening.
"Slytherin Common Room it is then." Harry sighed dramatically only for Daphne to pinch him on the arm. "Alright, alright."
He reached out and picked up the excess fabric of the cloak and draped it over her head, ensuring she was full covered.
"Let's go."
They slipped out of the Room of Requirement quietly, the door vanishing behind them.
"Why aren't you under the Cloak too?" Daphne whispered. She had a loose grip on his forearm to ensure she didn't separate from him.
"Missing me already?"
Daphne huffed, pulling his arm sharply causing Harry to falter with yelp. "Be serious."
Rolling his eyes, Harry pulled her along. "It wouldn't be practical. Besides, I'm rather good with the Disillusionment Charm."
"Reckless."
Harry snorted amusedly. "Say's the girl sneaking about with me."
Daphne sniffed haughtily but didn't deny it.
Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, Daphne thought, they managed to make their way down past the first floor and into the basement completely undeterred.
"Isn't this where the Hufflepuff common room is located?" She questioned sceptically, looking around the hallway.
Harry merely smiled as they eventually made their way to a large wall. On it was an equally large painting of a bowl with an assortment of fruits in it.
"We should be okay here." Harry mentioned, turning to her general position and as if he could see exactly where she was, reached out and pulled back the hood of the cloak, revealing Daphne's beautiful face.
"How do you do that?" She asked gripping his wrists when he went to pull back.
"Do what?"
"See me. I should be invisible and yet you always know where I am."
Harry looked at her oddly for a second. As if the answer should've been obvious. "I can always see you."
Daphne's breath hitched.
Morgana, this boy.
With one hand still caught in hers, Harry turned back to the painting, reached forward and tickled the pear in the bowl.
It giggled.
Daphne blinked. "The pear just – did it giggle?"
Harry glanced back. "We've all got our quirks, now. Leave the pear alone."
"But – "
With a tug, he pulled the green handle that had materialised and revealed a narrow corridor beyond. Warm air and the heavenly scent of sugar, butter, and something spiced drifted toward them.
"Are we – is this the kitchens?" She questioned slowly, her excitement at being in one of Hogwarts' secret spots, rising.
Harry grinned. "Come on."
"It is the kitchens," she whispered, eyes widening as she stepped into the massive underground room.
House-elves flitted around in bursts of movement – stirring pots, flipping trays, and vanishing dirty dishes in neat pops of magic. The place was alive with quiet bundles of energy and magic.
Suddenly, a loud squeal broke through the noise. "Master Harry!"
Dobby sprinted over, ears bouncing, eyes lit up like fairy lights. "Master Harry has come to visit Dobby!"
Harry crouched slightly to meet him, smiling softly as he clasped the elf's hands. "You and everyone else. Been keeping busy, Dobby?"
Dobby puffed up his chest. "Of course, sir!"
Daphne watched the interaction with a strange warmth in her chest. Harry's tone, his ease, the way the other elves were now peeking over pots and pans and from behind trays to look at him.
They weren't just curious.
They adored him.
When Harry straightened, more elves had gathered, wide-eyed and whispering excitedly.
"Wes be so glad young Master Harry be coming to see us!" One squeaked excitedly.
"Not just me," Harry said, grinning as he gestured behind him. "Tonight, I brought a guest."
Dozens of round eyes shifted to Daphne as she was suddenly cast into the spotlight.
"Um – " She said lamely, blinking owlishly at all the curious faces.
"Come on, Greengrass," Harry mumbled, injecting his teasing voice into his tone as he nudged her by the shoulder. "You're embarrassing Dobby in front of his friends, ergo, embarrassing me. Do you want that on your conscience?"
Daphne shot him a scathing look, but not before catching the conspiring grin he had sent to Dobby.
That stupid, bloody prat! The nerve!
Elbowing Harry sharply in the ribs, Daphne stepped forward, lifting her chin like she was preparing to host a gala, not stand in front of a hundred wide-eyed house-elves.
"Daphne Greengrass," she said clearly. "I am… Harry's…" Her voice faltered.
What was she?
A friend? A former almost-enemy? A whatever this was?
But surely her status as a mere acquaintance had been upgraded…? Right?
She turned, just enough to catch Harry's face – and there it was again. That infuriating, reckless smirk of his. He was absolutely revelling in this.
Before she could compose herself, a high-pitched gasp broke through the hum of the kitchens.
"Binty knows! Binty knows! Mistress is Master Harry's Greenie!"
Daphne stood stupefied, her mouth opening and closing.
"…What?"
The elf – a tiny little thing with a mop of wispy hair and a hopeful expression – clapped her little hands excitedly. "Greenie! The girl Master Harry always talks about when he thinks wes not listening! Dobby says Mistress is Master Harry's Greenie!"
Daphne turned slowly. "Harry?"
But Harry wasn't looking at her. He was staring down Dobby, who blinked back with immaculate innocence.
Then – clearly defeated – he cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at her.
"H-Hungry? Me too. Let's eat," he blurted out and promptly spun on his heel.
Daphne watched his back as he strode away, muttering to Dobby, who trotted after him looking far too pleased with himself. Around her, a ripple of soft giggles rose from the other elves.
The feeling that surged from the top of her head to her toes was unbelievably light and electric – like her whole body had smiled before her face could catch up.
And then, it did. She let the grin stretch across her lips and try as she might, she couldn't fight it.
Seriously… this boy.
Harry was already at one of the long wooden tables when she caught up, his hands buried in a tray of warm pastries the elves had just brought over. Flaky croissants, jam-filled buns, cinnamon swirls and to water it down, giant mugs of Hogwarts' special hot chocolate.
"You're actually doing this," Daphne muttered, half-amused, half-appalled as she slide into the seat opposite him.
She didn't miss the way he automatically pushed the sweeter pastries closer to her side of the tray.
"Of course I am," Harry said, not looking up. "I'm starving."
They ate in companionable silence, trading the occasional wry comment. Most of them came from Harry, who had regained enough of his usual ease to meet her eyes again. Daphne, not one to be outdone, never shied away from their familiar, charged rhythm of daily verbal duels.
Until suddenly, she broke it.
"Did my father bring me up?" she asked, quiet but direct.
Harry paused mid-sip of his hot chocolate. Over the rim of the mug, his eyes gave away nothing as he set down the mug slowly.
"No – "
The blonde nodded before he could finish.
Of course, father wouldn't. As if he ever had a reason to.
" – But Lord Warrington did."
A pang of worry entered her. "L-Lord Warrington?"
Harry nodded slowly.
"Dobby."
The elf suddenly appeared with a soft pop.
"Fetch me a copy of the most recent Witch Weekly, please. Just go grab the one Lavender has."
Dobby immediately nodded and a few seconds later, in Harry's hand was the item.
"Apparently," he drawled, laying the glossing magazine between them, "we made the front page."
Daphne stifled a gasp at the moving image – and then the headline hit her like a bludger.
FUTURE PREMIER MAGE BESOT WITH THE FORBIDDEN FLOWER OF THE MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF GREENGRASS?
"M-Morgana…"
"Lord Warrington was… concerned at our relationship." Harry said carefully. "The memory doesn't help, I suppose."
Daphne swallowed, eyes wide. Pushing the thoughts of how utterly perfect they looked in the image, she focused on his words. "Memory?"
"Look closely, Daphne."
She leaned in. He was right. It wasn't a photograph but a memory, animated with a clarity no camera could capture.
"How?" she asked, brow furrowing.
Harry shook his head with a sigh. "I don't know. Whoever it was, is clearly no friend. What's more concerning is that they managed to completely erase their presence when they were watching us. Usually, I would've been able to get some sort of feeling that there was someone there. Not this time."
Daphne pursed her lips. "What did they say? Lord Warrington I mean."
"He thought that this," Harry nodded towards the magazine with a clenched jaw, "would jeopardise the contract between you and Cassius."
She looked away, her face bitter with a rush of anger and indignation.
" – Your father voiced similar concerns."
If anything, her anger grew tenfold.
"He advised that you are 'spoken for' and that I 'remain in the boundaries of my station' when working with you." Harry said, his face emotionless.
Her fingers curled tightly around her mug.
"Snape backed me up, of all people," Harry continued with a note of disbelief in his voice. "Mentioned us being partnered for Potions and that seemed to mollify your father and Lord Warrington…"
His voice started to fade for her – muffled beneath the rush of thoughts clawing through her mind.
But one thing rang clear: his answer. Or lack thereof.
Daphne took a deep breath, calming her emotions.
What she truly needed right now was Harry's answer.
Everyone else could say what they pleased. But his words – Harry's words were the ones she yearned for.
"What did you say?" she asked, interrupting him. Her voice was quiet. Frighteningly so.
Harry was silent for a breath too long.
Then he answered, tone cold and measured but with sharp clarity that rang through her like a bell.
"Nobody tells me what I must or must not do. Not anymore. I thought you knew that already."
"Maybe I… I needed to hear it again," Daphne murmured, eyes lowered to her drink, watching the cream spiral into chocolate.
"Then hear it again tomorrow too and the day after," he said softly, bumping his knee with hers.
She looked up at him sharply, lips parting. Not because of what he said, but because of how easily it came. As if that steadiness, that promise, cost him nothing at all.
And just like that, the warmth of the kitchens surrounded her again – pastries, hot chocolate, and Harry.
Daphne cleared her throat, searching for a semblance of levity.
And levity came, sure enough, as she watched him pick out a chocolate-filled croissant with all the glee of a child.
Without asking, Daphne leaned across and plucked it clean out of his hand.
Harry blinked at the sudden theft. "Oi… that was mine."
But she'd already taken a large bite, eyes fluttering shut.
"Mmmmm," she moaned dramatically, licking a smear of chocolate from her thumb. "This is possibly the best decision you've ever made. I'm actually quite miffed you hadn't taken me here sooner."
"You're lucky I'm not Ron." Harry muttered.
The blonde wrinkled her nose at that. "I thank the stars every day."
Then, as if granting him a royal pardon, Daphne broke off a small piece and held it out to him with a smug little smile. "Weep, Potter. A token of my appreciation."
Harry raised an amused brow but accepted the offering without hesitation.
He chewed slowly, almost contemplatively, as if weighing the bite against every hardship in his life. The low growl that escaped him said he approved.
Daphne, suddenly finding the tray of pastries far too interesting, snapped her gaze away and reached for a raspberry tart, mostly to give her hands something to do.
" – You've got a bit of chocolate," Harry mentioned casually, gesturing vaguely, "on the corner of your mouth."
Wasting no time, she swiftly swiped at her mouth, hoping to get rid of the abomination before her face would resemble a tomato.
"Left a bit."
She went left.
" – Not there – "
She tried right.
" – No – "
" – Where then?!" Her voice cracked. She felt her Occlumency slipping, the heat rising.
Morgana, kill me now!
"You're hopeless." Harry said amusedly.
Reaching out, he brushed his thumb just beneath the corner of her lip, slow and unhurried.
Daphne went as still as a statue.
Their eyes met and for a long second, the room around them – pastries and elves and warmth – blurred into nothing.
It was just them.
Then Harry cleared his throat and dropped his hand. But not before casually licking away the evidence of her mortification as if he were turning a page.
Once again, Daphne was at a loss for words.
"Y-Y-You're awful."
"And you eat like a gremlin."
She narrowed her eyes, trying – and failing – to pretend she wasn't flustered. "I do not eat like a gremlin."
Harry's grin deepened as his gaze lingered on the telltale pink dusting her cheeks. "You do when you steal my food. If I recall, you've got a thing for lusting after what's mine."
Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You heard me. It was just the other day when you nicked the last slice of that apple crumble Dobby brought for me."
"You said you didn't want it!"
Harry gaped at her. "When did I say that?"
"Fine." Daphne reluctantly said, upturning her nose at him. "It was just that one time."
"Please," he snorted. "What about the time you ate my orange? Or the time where I had to give you my steak sandwich because you didn't like the way your tuna sandwich looked like?"
"It did look odd!"
Her embarrassment flared – not because he was wrong, but because she had stolen from him. Repeatedly. Shamelessly.
Especially his attention.
" – And we certainly can't forget that time with Slughorn on the train. That was gourmet food and I still had to swap with you because you didn't like your pigeon."
"It was a pheasant and the menu didn't have pictures, you idiot," Daphne said, though the slight wobble in her voice made the glare she was sending him anything but convincing.
Harry sighed dramatically, struggling to keep the grin off his face. "So, what was it that I witnessed a moment ago, then?"
"A thing called finders keepers," she said loftily, reclaiming the upper hand. She picked up the raspberry tart, biting into it with deliberate care, lips parting slow – a streak of red smearing just at the corner of her mouth.
"If you didn't want me to take it," she added, licking the filling from her thumb with indecent grace, "you should've been quicker, Mr Seeker."
Harry blinked. Then stared. His breath caught, just slightly.
Gotcha! Daphne grinned internally.
His eyes had dropped again – to her mouth, to the tart, to the slow drag of her tongue.
"Eyes up, darling," she murmured, smiling sweetly. "Unless you're hoping to be caught."
"Merlin, you're annoying," Harry muttered, looking away – but his voice had gone slightly hoarse.
Daphne leaned in, close enough that her breath brushed his cheek. "Two can play the game, Hadrian."
He went to respond – but his witty response faltered, just for a second.
Because she was no longer playing fair.
Her half-lidded gaze was sin and challenge in one, a wicked curl of her lips promising danger.
"So," she murmured, resting her chin on her hand, voice low and velvet-smooth, "you going to escort me back to the dungeons... or are you hoping I steal something else on the way?"
Harry stared, unmoving, like a man trying to decide if this was still harmless flirting or something more deadly entirely.
"My sanity, probably," he said under his breath.
Daphne's perfect smile grew. Her lashes fluttering with weaponised grace.
"Guess we'll find out."
She rose to her feet like smoke and extended her hand.
Harry took it without hesitation.
"Come along then, hero," Daphne said sweetly, tugging him toward the door.
He let her pull him, the heat between them burning brighter with every step.
"If you didn't know," he muttered as they disappeared down the corridor, "I do the hand-pulling around here."
She didn't look back, but her voice floated to him, smug and satisfied.
"Whatever you say, darling."
CwD