Happy New Year FFnet.
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Step 1: Reconnaissance
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Harry appeared with a pop of displaced air. He adjusted his glasses and his jacket, before walking the few feet separating him from the metal gate of the Greengrass manor.
He reached with his hand against the intricate gate, thankful to the charms on his gloves for shielding him from the metal's cold surface.
His breath came out in vapors, the cold beginning to get to him while he waited. A few seconds later, the gate opened inwards by itself, allowing him entrance into the manor grounds.
He couldn't help but compare it to Malfoy Manor, the one pureblood residence that he'd spent a lot of time in at various points in his life, Weasleys excluded. Greengrass Manor shared the gloomy atmosphere of Malfoy Manor, but was less extravagant. There were no peacocks to be seen, though there was a lovely garden, seemingly unaffected by the bone-chillingly cold weather, being tended to by a few house-elves wielding tools and magic alike.
He reached the entrance, which opened to accept him, a house-elf bowing as it let him inside.
"The masters be expecting mister Potter in the livin' room."
Harry frowned slightly at the still bowing elf's direction. "I came to pick up miss Daphne so we could leave, not stay."
"Mistress Daphne be preparing, mister Potter. The masters be expecting you in the livin' room."
The elf cowered under his look, so Harry let up.
"What's your name, little guy?"
The elf hesitated, its eyes going wide as saucers. "Me is Trixy."
"Little miss, then. Lead the way, Trixy."
"Right this ways, sir!"
Trixy led Harry through the entrance hall of the manor. It had the usual: portraits, paintings, tasteful carpets, some less than tasteful decorations, a suit of armor here and there in the following hallway. A tad generic, perhaps, but Harry wasn't too judgemental. Until Voldemort began his campaign by making an example of his family, the Potters also had one of these.
Eventually they reached a relatively small room, with a few couches, bookcases and a roaring fireplace. It looked rather cozy, Harry had to admit, decorated in dark shades of red and brown.
He found Fabio and Karina Greengrass sitting there, the two of them occupying a couch. They rose as he came in and Trixy announced him. He thanked the elf before she popped away.
The two Greengrasses extended their hands and Harry shook them, exchanging polite greetings.
Fabio was not a particularly intimidating man. He was short, his grey hair was carefully maintained, and his beard was neatly trimmed. His dark eyes worked well with his impressive mustache to add weight to his gaze where his stature failed, however.
Karina still maintained the rich blonde hair-color of her youth, through nature or magic Harry could not tell. She was beautiful, of course. Harry had expected nothing less. He brought her fingers up to his lips, as was custom, with a respectful: "Madam Greengrass, it's a pleasure."
"Please join us, Head Auror. Would you like a drink? We were just enjoying a bit of White Dragoon before you arrived." Fabio asked, waving to an armchair next to the fire. Nearby was a stand with various expensive bottles on it. Harry shook his head as he took a seat.
"I'm not here in my official capacity so please, call me Harry. Or mister Potter, if you prefer. Also, no thanks, I'll be Apparating home later."
Fabio nodded. "I see."
"Pardon me, but where is Daphne? We had arranged to meet at this time."
"My daughter is upstairs in her room, preparing for your ... jaunt. We were hoping to have a word with you, before she came down."
Is that how it was going to be? Mister Greengrass was not being entirely truthful, though in their defense, they could not have known that Harry could sense Daphne, waiting two rooms over. Not many people had been trained to sense magic like he could. He opened his hands in an inviting gesture. "By all means."
Fabio's brow creased slightly. "Daphne explained your little … agreement, to us. I have to say, I do not like it. I want it to stop. I had not expected such lowly behavior from you, mister Potter."
His boldness caught Harry by surprise, who had expected a lot of talking around the subject, but he didn't show it. He raised an eyebrow. "Please, tell me what you really think."
Karina put a hand on her husband's wrist, giving him a stern look before turning back to Harry. He absently noted that Daphne got her high cheekbones from her mother, as with most of her appearance except … her nose? That seemed to be all Fabio. The eyes, too. Gray and piercing.
"I apologise for my husband's forwardness, mister Potter. He is merely worried for our daughter, as I am."
Harry tipped his head. "No offense was taken, lady Greengrass. I can understand and respect the love of a parent, perhaps more than most. It's saved my life on several occasions."
"Then you understand our reservations with your arrangement, do you not?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't. In fact, I thought the two of you would be happy."
Fabio's eyes narrowed, and Karina let out a small exclamation of surprise.
"Happy, mister Potter?"
He nodded. "Yes. I'm offering Daphne a way out. A relatively easy and painless one, too. After that, she'll be available to marry a groom of your choice. Because, and please excuse my boldness in assuming, this is what has you worried, is it not? That Daphne be available to advance your family's business through marriage?"
Fabio's face hardened, and Karina turned slightly red.
"You insult us, mister Potter, and you are a guest at our home."
"I meant no offense, and I apologise if any was taken. I was simply assuming, considering young Astoria's marriage to my old classmate, and the nature of the contract that you were eager to sign with my own parents. Tell me, mister and madam Greengrass, what has changed since that time? Why are you so opposed to the contract now?"
"Times, have changed, mister Potter. Lily, James, and Charlus, blessed be their memory, are no longer among us. The circumstances under which we signed no longer apply."
"I had a funny conversation with my lawyers the other day, mister Greengrass. Did you know that there's a muggle legal term under which a contract like this could be voided? Frustration, they called it. Unfortunate that our own systems do not cover for such an eventuality."
Fabio's jaw was firmly set. "I was indeed aware."
Harry assumed that mustn't have been a great feeling.
"Mister Potter," Karina began, her tone gentler. "Your mother and I were very good friends. She gave me a lot of support when I needed it, and I valued her very highly. Nothing would make me happier than seeing you and my daughter get along. That was what the two of us had been hoping. But this is not the way, mister Potter. This isn't how you should go about it."
Harry took a second to formulate his reply. "Lady Greengrass, I have nothing but respect and reverence for you and my mother and I would very much like it if you told me what you could of your days together someday. However, you'll have to forgive me if I don't see what you're taking this much offense to. I'm the one giving Daphne an out, something that will cost me a great deal. If I was the cruel person you try to paint me as, I would keep the contract, take Daphne and your business both, and it would be the most profitable endeavor of my life to date."
"You realize what will happen if we take this to the press?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What, exactly? Will you tell them that I'm upholding the legal contract you signed? Or will you try to explain a verbal agreement that is not actually written down or legally binding?"
"We have only our daughter's well-being in mind, mister Potter. Surely a man of your position can understand our concern when it comes to … agreements, of this nature."
"I do understand. Understand this, however, you have nothing to fear from me. I mean you no harm and hold no ill will."
Fabio's voice was strained, on the verge of aggression. "And yet you would demand my daughter as your prize? Your escort? Absolutely not! I refuse."
"Escort in the most innocent meaning of the word, mister Greengrass. Daphne need do nothing she doesn't want. I just want to hang out with her for a few evenings, and then she'll be free to be married to whoever the two of you deem suitable."
"What if 'hanging out' with you is what she does not want, mister Potter?"
"I'm afraid that's the one thing I will insist on. I like to think of myself as somewhat fun to be around. I think that, as far as sacrifices to keep your family's fortune in its own hands go, this is rather tame."
"As Head Auror, one meant to uphold law and justice, do you truly feel no shame, forcing such a choice upon her?"
Harry's eyebrows raised. "I'm surprised you don't see the hypocrisy in your statement. It's not my place to question your ways, but I didn't expect this reaction from people who marry their children to seal business deals."
Fabio's next look threw Harry a bit, though he was careful not to show it.
"You disappoint me, mister Potter."
Harry was quick to react, despite his surprise. "How so?"
"I had thought you different. From your work in the Ministry, I had thought you unbiased. Yet you judge with no understanding or proper context. You do not know our ways, you do not understand them, yet you firmly cling to the one facet of them and use it to try and prove your point. You repeat that to yourself, assuring yourself over and over that you are not in the wrong because of that one thing. Tell me, how are you any different from the blood purists you spent much of your life battling against?"
Harry opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He closed it, feeling oddly uncomfortable. What Fabio was accusing him off was exactly the thing he'd swore not to do. He'd sworn to keep an open mind, to not just disregard something or someone out of hand based on unreliable information. Was this really what he was doing with the Greengrass family? Had he really been this self-assured that he'd miss the formation of such an outlook on himself?
He asserted his thoughts quickly. Fabio's accusations would have to be examined for legitimacy, but now was not the time. He couldn't afford to be introspective or doubt himself in front of them.
Karina began to speak, her tone softer than it was. "Mister Potter-"
"Pardon my rudeness," Harry interrupted her. He hadn't planned for this. He couldn't play this game right now. "But I think we've talked long enough. There's only one Greengrass that has my attention tonight, so if you could please signal Daphne to come inside, I'd appreciate it."
Their flinches were miniscule, but Harry's sharp eyes caught them.
"Daphne is-"
"I will spare you the embarrassment, mister Greengrass, and let you know that I can sense her, so whatever lie you're about to tell, reconsider."
Fabio closed his mouth and took a breath. "Fine."
Harry felt for him. For both of them, really. He didn't mean to come on so strong. He hadn't handled this as well as he should have. "If you wish to discuss things further, we can arrange some time, or you can make an appointment in my office. Just send me an owl."
"We will be having words, mister Potter, of that you can be sure."
Daphne chose that time to enter the room, coming in from a door on the far side and all troubled thoughts left his mind for a moment. For a second he simply stared before he caught himself.
The woman really didn't do anything by half-measures. She wore a dark blue dress. A rather conservative one, but no less impressive or alluring. It showed off smooth skin on her shoulders and neck. Looking at the way it fit around her curves, Harry was again reminded of the numbers required by his father on the contract and sent a small prayer for him in whatever afterlife he'd ended up in. Daphne's ensemble was completed by jewelry that Harry knew was enchanted, as well as forbiddingly expensive.
Daphne held a red coat in her arms, her hair caught in a single, long ponytail.
"Enough, Potter. We get the picture." She jerked her head towards the door he'd used coming in. "Let's get going."
Harry rose, offering his hand once more to be shaken. "Have a good evening, mister and lady Greengrass. We'll be in touch."
Fabio merely nodded, but Karina managed a slightly strained smile. "The two of you have fun."
They walked side by side through the walkway, awkwardly silent for a few seconds.
"Was that display really necessary, Potter?"
Harry could not let her understand just how much the two elder Greengrass had unnerved him. When he spoke, his tone was flippant. "Was it a bit much, do you think?"
Daphne gave him a look of mild distaste. "Overly dramatic and quite undignified, but I suppose it got your point across."
"You thought your parents would intimidate me?"
"I thought they would give you some much needed perspective. Having said that, alienating my parents is not at all a wise move, in your position."
"I wasn't trying to."
"You thought a show of force would dissuade them from attempting to circumvent you?"
"Basically, yeah. Do you think it'll work?"
"I think you underestimate both their reach, and the lengths my parents would go to. You also have a very poor grasp on how a suitor is supposed to behave."
'Suitor'. Harry nearly snorted in amusement. Instead, he just shrugged. "I guess I'll have to rely on you putting in a good word for me when you get back- wait, did you just roll your eyes?"
"I did not."
"You did, I saw it!"
"Quit bothering me, Potter."
They both put their coats on before exiting the house going through the gardens on the way to the gates. That was when Harry finally got a better look at her. His eyebrows rose at the sight. Upon closer inspection, he noticed some details. The soft undertone of color around her eyes, the otherworldly, somewhat unnatural smoothness of her skin, the tantalizing view of her lips … well, perhaps that last one was completely natural.
And her clothes! The jacket appeared normal at first glance, if rather stylish, but a more careful look revealed the enchantments masterfully woven into the fabric. The commission of such a piece must have cost quite a penny. And also … were those unicorn hair linings?
"Is this your idea of casual, Daphne?"
She looked down at herself for one, unsure moment, then back up at him with affront.
"Pardon me? This is plenty casual."
"The sale of the shoes alone could feed a family of three for months."
Daphne adjusted her jacket and ran her hand through her ponytail, clearly agitated. "This is as casual as I get, Potter. Is it not good enough for you? Feel free to depart and leave me in peace. Need I remind you, I never wanted to be here in the first place."
Okay, the escalated a bit more than it should. "Relax, I'm just having you on."
She seemed to deflate a bit, her anger spent for the moment. When she spoke she sounded exasperated, if anything. "Well, perhaps you should instead consider following my example. You could do with an upgrade to your wardrobe."
Now it was Harry's turn to self-consciously glance down at himself. He'd been rather careful in his selection that day, after all. They might not reach her levels of expensive, but they weren't exactly rags, either.
"What's wrong with it?"
Daphne sniffed. It was rather impressive, Harry had to admit. She managed to make the sound with barely any movement, just a stiffening of her features that served to perfectly express her utter dismissal.
"It will do. For now."
Well, that wasn't ominous at all.
Harry coughed into his hand as they reached the outer gate, leaving the grounds of the manor.
"Are you hungry?"
"You are actually giving me a choice?"
"Will you stop that? You're not a slave, and I'm not treating you like one."
"Except for the part where you are forcing me to go along with this farce?"
Harry groaned, running his hand through his hair. "Come on, Daphne. It was a simple question."
She clicked her tongue in annoyance, and seemed to consider for a second or two. "I could eat."
Harry nodded, deciding on a destination. "Got your stasis charm in place?" he asked. While he'd find it rather funny if they arrived and Daphne's hair was frazzled, he didn't think Daphne would appreciate it quite like he did.
If her look was anything to go by, he needn't have worried.
"Of course. Where are we headed?"
"Have you ever been to Godric's Hollow?"
She shook her head. "We're going among muggles?"
"I'll have to side-along you, then. And don't worry, the place we're going to is magical. If I may?" He offered her his gloved hand, palm up. She offered him her gloved fingers, which he held ever so gently.
They Disapparated with a soft pop.
They appeared on the edge of the small town, displacing some snow but otherwise not disturbing anything.
Harry took a look around. Decked out in December snow, still faintly lit by the remnants of a sunset, Godric's Hollow looked quite scenic.
It was also very, very cold. Harry rubbed his hands together before producing his holly wand in hand and casting a warming charm on himself.
"Want one?" he asked, tilting his wand her way.
"No, I do not. Comfort charms are layered in all my clothes. Shall we go?"
"Let's," he replied, offering her his arm. She looked at it for a moment, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed and Harry was sure she would refuse or say something distasteful. After a moment's consideration, however, she simply curled her arm around his without a scene or much fanfare, and together they started walking down the sidewalk, heading deeper into the village.
Okay. So far so good. Harry's spirits began to lift.
"I'm surprised you don't make use of them, yourself," Daphne remarked, and it took Harry a second to understand that she was referring to comfort charms. "Word of your charmwork has reached my ears."
"Yes, well, charmed clothes are a hazard in my line of work."
Daphne turned to look at him, surprised.
"One would think that enchanted clothing would have many defensive values."
Harry chuckled, and Daphne shifted just a bit to get more comfortable on his arm.
"Well, one would be wrong."
"How so? I know that, at the very least, your blood traitor friends had a rather successful series of products centered around this concept."
"Could you not call them that? And yes, the defensive line of the Wheezes was good, but it was very basic and limited in scope. Not to mention that while it did protect from basic hexes, the spells had to remain limited for the same reason the Auror office can't utilize enchanted clothing."
"And that reason would be?"
Harry gave a small grimace. "I don't want to get too technical here."
"Then simplify. I am certain that's not too hard for you."
Harry frowned. "I think I should be insulted? But okay, how about this. Enchantments do not mix well with curses. While you generally want to avoid being hit by them regardless, the reaction of high level curses with intricate enchantments is unpredictable and often rather volatile."
Daphne furrowed her brow. "But I know that static defensive magic is possible."
"Not the kind that can be woven into clothes, no."
"I suppose that is the sort of thing only Aurors would know."
"Good thing you asked me, then. Now look sharp, we're here."
Despite how idyllic Godric's Hollow looked, few people braved the cold and snow at this hour. The roads were mostly empty while they walked. Thankfully, the destroyed Potter house wasn't on this side of the village.
Harry stopped walking in front of a two story building. the front of it was covered in glass that let out the yellow glow and soft hum of the music from inside, but were too hazy to actually see through.
They walked to the door and Harry opened it, letting Daphne in first before following and closing it behind him.
The Cold Peak was, ironically, a rather cozy, comfortable place. A family diner that doubled as a pub as the night progressed. It was bigger than the building would suggest from the outside but the restaurant part of it was separated in booths by wooden panel about three feet high, giving the impression of privacy while still keeping the rest of the area visible. It was tastefully decorated in shades of brown, keeping a few magical paintings and other assorted pieces of decor. Fireplaces lined the walls at various intervals and candles floated by themselves below the ceiling.
A man met them from inside the door, his outfit marking him as staff. He was young, and smiled when he saw Harry come in.
"Greetings, mister Potter."
"Hello Jerry. All good?"
"Certainly, sir. Table for two tonight?"
"Yes, please."
"Right this way." With a wave of his hand, Jerry led them to a spot further in, a bit more secluded than the rest. The chairs moved by themselves so that they could sit opposite each other on the small table. It was covered in red tablecloth, a curious choice, but it fit nicely with the rest of the ensemble.
They both removed their coats, but Harry took an appreciative second to look at Daphne before giving his coat to Jerry. Perhaps his own dress shirt and pants weren't as impressive by comparison, but Harry thought that he looked quite smart, if he could say so himself.
Daphne must have noticed his look, for she raised an eyebrow and gave him a small smirk. Rather than be embarrassed, Harry returned it with a smile of his own. "You look great," he told her.
"Thank you." With that, they took their seats.
"Will you be requiring menus?" Jerry asked, their coats already sent away with a flick of his wand.
"Yes, please."
Jerry snapped his fingers and a pair of menus appeared, hovering over their plates until they picked them up.
"Should I come back?" Jerry asked. Before Harry had a chance to answer, Daphne let out a sharp "No." Harry shrugged at Jerry, and the two of them watched the Greengrass heiress as she inspected the menu. It took nearly two minutes before she spoke again.
"Item … forty three, on your list. Was it grown or imported? Was it duplicated, by any chance?"
"Our chicken are imported from Spain. Nothing in our premises is duplicated, miss. You'll find your dish of the most excellent quality."
"I will be the judge of that." She closed her menu and handed it to the server.
"I'll have what she got. Bring us two glasses of red, would you? From my bottle?"
"Of course, mister Potter."
"Thanks Jerry." When the server left, Harry turned back to Daphne. "Are you a chicken person?"
She furrowed her brow. "Excuse me?"
"Is chicken your dish of preference?"
"It seemed like the least imbecilic choice on this menu."
Harry's eyebrows rose. "You don't like the place?"
Daphne shifted in her chair a little, her fingers intertwining. "It is beneath us, but I can see why one such as you would like it."
Harry didn't buy it. "Daphne…"
She looked at him like he'd stepped on her favorite pair of shoes, but did eventually relent. "It is not entirely unpleasant."
Perhaps that was the best Harry could have hoped for.
"Do I get points for that?"
"No."
Harry faked a noise of frustration. "You're a hard woman to please, Daphne."
The blonde smiled, the low lighting complimenting her fair skin nicely. "Naturally. You'll have to do better than this, in future."
"I can do better, though I think you shouldn't judge this place until we've left."
"There are worse places you could have taken me to, I'll grant you that. I had not expected Godric's Hollow at all, to be honest with you. What with what's here, I didn't think this would be a viable choice."
'What's here'. Nice way of summing up the ruins of the Potter home, the burial grounds of his parents and the site where his life changed forever. Harry himself wasn't bothered, and in fact visited the village quite often, but the mention did serve to noticeably dampen the mood, bringing an awkward silence to bear.
"Well, that got a bit deep."
"I concur. Perhaps a change of subject is in order?"
"Sure. Let's see …" This was their first date. What could they talk about that wouldn't be too personal, and wouldn't bring their conflict of interests to the forefront? "Hm, how about … Hogwarts?"
She nodded with a small smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks. "As safe a topic as any, and I do have a lot to ask, since the opportunity presented itself."
"What do you remember from your first year?"
"First year?" Daphne furrowed her brow, thinking. "Not a lot. I was homesick and I would often get lost. The dungeons took quite a bit of getting used to. Not only was it cold down there, the corridors were also much more labyrinthine than the rest of the castle."
"I remember the Slytherin common room. Looked cozy, if a bit bleak. I preferred the Gryffindor one."
Daphne's eyes widened. "You have been to the Slytherin common room? When was this? How?"
Perhaps Harry should have kept this to himself. Still, it was satisfying to get a genuine reaction from her. Best not get carried away, regardless.
"Eh, sometime in second year. As for how … I think I'm not going to tell you that when I'm still not sure you won't use incriminating information to get me convicted."
She smirked at this. "My my. The ever noble Harry Potter, using illegal means to enter the Slytherin common room? How little the people actually know about you."
Harry grinned. "You have no idea."
"What other illegal activities were you up to in first year?"
"Remember what I just said about incriminating information?"
"Come on, Potter. This is me giving you a chance to, as they say, chat me up. Humor me."
She drove a hard bargain. "There may or may not have been a dragon involved."
Daphne raised a perfect eyebrow. "So, Draco wasn't lying. Now this makes me wonder what else of his absurd tales about you was true."
"I don't know. Draco often knew more about what I was up to than most, but then he was also a dirty little lying ferret, so I wouldn't trust him when it comes to information."
"Ferret?" Daphne let out a rather unladylike giggle. "That reminds me, the day of his transformation was outright glorious. He never got to live what Professor Moody did to him down, and it curbed his pull in our House for the rest of the year. I never thanked you for that."
Too bad Professor Moody at the time was a rather crazy Barty Crouch jr, murderer, escaped convict and Death Eater. But perhaps talking about him would spoil the mood.
"You did mention that watching the two of us go at it was entertaining."
Jerry arrived in their booth, a wooden tray floating behind him. The dishes and the glasses floated off the tray and took their places in front of them, followed by the silverware. Harry thanked him and the server left.
The started eating, conversation dying out save for a few comments about the food. Daphne judged it 'edible' and they proceeded to chat a bit about the wine.
When their plates were mostly empty, Daphne revived the previous conversation. "Perhaps we could return to discussing acts that could get you convicted?"
Harry mock-frowned. "I think I'm sensing ulterior motives, here."
She twined her fingers under her chin, her eyes looking particularly piercing in the low lighting.
"Let's address the most disturbing of the rumors regarding you in our first year, shall we?"
"And that would be?"
"Did you really murder professor Quirrell?"
Harry's hand paused on its way to bringing his glass to his mouth. He gave Daphne a glare over his glasses.
"Is that really appropriate dinner conversation?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Indulge me."
"If you plan to grill me on every rumor that popped up during my Hogwarts years, we'll be here for days."
"We do have five days just so conveniently lined up."
"If you think I'll spend them addressing rumors from years ago and remembering events I'd rather forget, you're mistaken."
Daphne scowled. "Come now, Potter, don't get shy on me. You know I won't actually try to charge you. Magic knows, you're the Head Auror. It probably would not even make it to court."
"I think you underestimate the effectiveness of Kingsley's ministry."
"First name basis with the Minister, Potter?"
"We did sort of fight a war together. Why, I remember that one time-"
"No, Potter. You shan't change the subject that easily."
Harry let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. "Are you done with your food?"
Daphne's tone was exasperated and amused. "Potter-"
"Would you like to get drinks? I'll need something strong for this conversation."
She gave him a nod. "That is fine."
Harry rose, caught a server's attention and gave him a nod. Daphne also rose from her chair, and he led her deeper into the establishment. It was getting sort of late, but still early in the night. The bar wasn't empty but it didn't have too many people, either. Harry smiled and waved to some of them who offered greetings.
"These people know you." Daphne observed from his side as he led her to a pair of barstools on the far side.
"We're all regulars here. I like this place because the locals treat me like one of them, without bothering me."
"That must feel nice for you."
"It does."
They sat on their stools at the edge of the bar, Daphne on the furthest seat and Harry next to her. Harry greeted the barman by name, and they ordered their drinks.
A few seconds later, the drinks arrived. Harry's drink was clear, but Daphne's was a rather vivid light blue color, and he was pretty sure something was moving around inside the tall glass. She sipped once with practiced movements.
"So, will you tell me what happened?"
Harry tasted his drink, too. Strong, but not enough to cloud his mind quickly.
"The first thing you need to understand about the situation is that Professor Quirrell was doomed."
"How so?"
"He was housing Voldemort's spirit in his body, acting as a host since the summer previously where he'd encountered him in the forests of Albania. Nasty place, Albania. Went once, never want to again."
"Potter."
"Right, so," Harry paused to sip once more from his glass, before continuing. "The Professor had a rather Voldemort-shaped lump on the back of his head, and he was trying to help him regain his strength and come to life with various means. Even had they succeeded, though, the Professor would die. Voldemort leaving his body would kill him. Professor Quirrell was already dead, from the moment he accepted the wraith."
"Did his life end at your hands or not?"
Harry was momentarily struck speechless by the accidental accuracy of her phrasing, as somewhat hazy memories became clearer and clearer. He took another swig of his drink.
"As a law enforcement officer, I can tell you that what I did does not qualify as murder. But yes, I killed what was left of Professor Quirrell in self-defense."
Daphne's eyes were wide as she watched him, with the kind of fascination one devoted to an ongoing transfiguration experiment.
"I cannot imagine what that must have felt like to you, at eleven years of age."
Harry shrugged. "Believe it or not, I didn't think much about it. I'd stopped Voldemort, and that was all that mattered. It took years for me to consider that day as me taking another life."
Daphne was nodding along with his words, listening with rapt attention.
"You've taken more lives, in the interim between then and now?"
Harry nodded, lips in a firm line. "His," he said, and neither doubted who 'he' was. "As well as several in the line of duty. I'm not proud of it, but it is the reality of being an Auror and dealing with Dark Wizards and renegade Warlocks."
"I've always wondered … what does it feel like, to take another life? To deprive someone of the greatest gift? To know that someone's destiny was to meet you and go no further?"
Harry shifted in his seat, suddenly rather uncomfortable. His drink tasted bitter as it went down his throat.
"I don't believe in destiny. I also don't think I want to talk about this anymore."
There was vicious mirth in her eyes and a smile on her face. Rather than make her prettier, Harry thought that it made her look cruel. "But, Potter-"
"Please, Daphne," he cut her off. "No more of this. You promised."
She seemed about to argue, but something in his expression must have convinced her otherwise. Slowly, the dangerous shine in her eyes and the subtle glee in her expression vanished, to be replaced with annoyance and resignation.
"Fine, Potter. I'm sure you would have said something suitably lecturing and boring, regardless."
Harry forced a smile. She didn't know him at all. "You know me too well."
"What shall we talk about, then?"
Harry rested his right elbow on the counter, turning his body to look at her more easily. "I think we've talked enough about me for now. I want to know more about you."
She raised an eyebrow. "What would you like to know?"
Harry rubbed his chin for a second, thinking. "Tell me about what you do," he said after a few seconds. "Running PR for your father's business. Mingling with people. How does that work? What exactly do you do?"
She raised an eyebrow again. "Public relations is far from my only obligation, Potter. You might not know, but Father has as of late limited the scope of his responsibilities, placing more and more of the excess unto me. I am being groomed to succeed him."
"Huh. I knew that Fabio was having less of a presence lately, but I didn't know about this. I'm happy for you. You seem like a competent person. No doubt you'll bring your business far."
His compliment seemed to have an effect on her, judging by her smile or the rosiness of her cheeks, though that might have been from the second drink she was making good progress with.
"To return to your original question, it is important that the Greengrass maintain a presence among the right circles. Those parties that you so avidly avoid are the places where the people who matter gather and real transactions take place, where real relationships are formed."
Harry snorted. "I'd argue that none of that matters, since none of that is sincere. I'd hardly call anything going on over there 'real'. Deception upon deception, and the slightest hint of honesty is ruthlessly exploited."
"Ah, but do you not see the beauty is such a primal state of existence, disguised as civilization? The strong prey on the weak, just as it has always been. The game itself has not changed, only the means by which we play it."
"I have no wish to participate in such a game."
Daphne smiled, a knowing, mocking smile that, truth be told, unsettled him a little.
"But you will have to, Potter. Already, you are drawn more and more towards it. Your ambitions, noble as they are, will force your hand. You can either swim with the current, or fight it and drown."
Harry shrugged again. "I fancy myself rather good at swimming. The metaphorical swimming, not the actual act. I'm not very good at that."
"So says winner of the second Task of the Triwizard Tournament?"
"Oh, you know. Performance enhancers. My victory came from a root. Rather disgusting one, at that."
"You are braver than I thought to have put Gillyweed in your mouth, I will admit that much." She looked down, lightly tapping her fingernails on the counter. "I need another drink." She turned towards the barman, getting his attention with a sharp wrist movement.
Eventually, Harry put down his -now empty- third glass. His wand materialized on his right hand and with an idle flick, the time appeared in numbers formed of wispy smoke. Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn't noticed the quick passage of time, due to no small amount to Daphne having such interesting stories to share about many of his Ministry coworkers.
"It's getting late," he said. "I'm loathe to end our night together, but perhaps I should not push my luck when it comes to your parents. Are you about ready to go?"
She seemed a tad confused for a few seconds, but still gave him a nod of consent. They rose and Harry left a few coins at the bar, enough to cover both the meal and the drinks.
"There's one more thing to be said before we part, Potter."
Harry turned to her as they collected their coats, giving her a questioning glance.
"It is not your place to judge my parents. You do not have that right. I can see it in you, though you do not show it. You meant what you said to them earlier. You judge their actions and find them immoral. You are wrong, and I want you to stop."
Harry blinked in surprise. That came a little out of the blue. "I thought that you of all people would be angry with them."
"I am," she said. "Of course I am. No one likes being treated as a bargaining chip, Potter. But I accept that. I was raised like that. So was my mother, so was my father and my sister, and so will my own children one day. I may be angry at them, but I understand them. If the situation were different, if the contract was still suitably applicable, I would have done my duty and married you, for the sake of the Greengrass family."
Harry scoffed as he put on his coat. "Well, thanks for making that sound like such a huge sacrifice."
She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Bah, you know what it is that I meant."
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do. And I get what you mean. I'll try not to be judgmental. I'm making a serious effort not to judge things that I don't understand."
Or at least, he'd thought that he was until today. Inwardly Harry frowned, remembering the conversation with Fabio.
They were outside now, and once again with linked arms as they walked to the edge of the town, their steps leaving deep footprints in the snow.
Daphne shook her head. "It is no mere profit that guides our ways, Potter."
"Fair enough. Poor choice of words. In my defense, being ethically compared to my friends' murderers is not a great feeling."
Daphne did grimace at that. "Perhaps that, too, was an example of poor phrasing."
Harry shook his head. "I'm really not much for debate right now. That drink was a bit stronger than I'd hoped."
"Are you still capable of Apparating us, or should I do it?"
He frowned. "I haven't had that much. And I saw what you were drinking. That concoction was stronger than mine, I'm not letting you Apparate right now."
"Suit yourself, Potter."
They soon reached the edge, and approached the small range of trees in which they arrived, earlier.
Still with linked arms, Harry cast a revealing spell, but it came up empty, meaning that there was no one nearby, nor were they being watched by any means.
"Ready?"
At her nod he Disapparated, taking her with him in a Side-Along.
They appeared outside the Greengrass gates with a pop. Upon arrival, Daphne patted her coat, before checking her hair. Then she turned to face him.
"Your Apparition is quite smooth, Potter. My commendations."
He chuckled. "You sound surprised."
"It is not a skill often witnessed in people as young as you."
"We're the same age."
"My proficiency in the art is not at that level, hence my surprise."
Harry suspected that she was rather more inebriated than she let on. He doubted that the same woman who had burst into his office would express herself like this without quite a bit of help. "Okay, now I know you're just buttering me up. You're not getting a goodnight kiss, if that's your angle."
Okay, perhaps he'd had a bit too much as well.
She snorted. "I assure you, it is not. At the same time, you do not have to act surprised whenever I acknowledge some aspect of your skills."
He was impressed that she could still articulate to this degree. "Stop it, you're making me blush."
She smiled. "Were that it was indeed me, instead of the cold. Perhaps you should reconsider charming your clothes?"
"Perhaps you should consider going inside, before your parents come out here to figure out what's taking you so long."
That seemed to sap her mirth, her smile fading, replaced by a contemplative expression. She let go of his arm, taking a couple steps away.
Harry watched with curiosity as her lips pursed and her brow furrowed.
"Is there anything else?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. "I'll send you an owl for our next date."
She tilted her head to the side, just so. "Or you could, you know … not."
Harry raised an eyebrow at her phrasing. "I'll send you an owl. Goodnight, Daphne. I had a great time tonight."
"Goodnight, Potter."
She gave him a small nod, expression still curiously stiff, before she turned and walked through the gate. Harry watched her go, until darkness claimed her and he couldn't make her out any longer.
He took a second, beginning to process all that had happened and all that he had learned, but then decided that such was best done from the comfort of his apartment that standing out here in the cold.
With a thought, he Disapparated.
~TMC~