A/N
About Lucius and Cyrus: Next chapter you'll see at last the conversation between Narcissa and Roxanne about their dear husbands and the scheming of their downfall will start. However that revenge/self-defence is not something to be done in an instant, so you'll have to wait a bit to see its conclusion. The overall plan is already in my mind and I hope that I won't incorporate too many holes in my "grand scheme of world domination".
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Family and Friends only
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Toledo – 19th of August 1995
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It was the day of Daphne turning fifteen at last, the day of her emancipation, and she loved it so much. This morning she already got her scroll and from now on she was allowed to use her wand everywhere, not only within the confines of her home. A side-effect, a very welcome one to add, was the fact that her father didn't have any say about her future anymore: No marriage contracts, no influence on her education and no access to her vault. Daphne shortly wondered how her mother had convinced him to sign the scroll, but it wasn't really important anymore.
There would be a semi-formal dinner party later, but nothing near the one three weeks ago in honour to Harry and Neville. Daphne, like every well-educated young pureblood lady, had been introduced to the society at her thirteenth birthday already, the day she officially entered the marriage market. She shuddered as she remembered the amount of proposals she received within the first week and who had been the originators. When asked, even her grandma hadn't known for sure why girls were introduced at that age and boys two years later, but "it had always been this way". Daphne simply shrugged, happy that she would be allowed to have it this way today, with only family and close friends attending. There wouldn't be political allies around, no foes who had to be watched and 'hold close'. Neither Lucius bloody Malfoy would trouble her today or her dear father.
A tiny hint of sadness filled her heart at the thought that she didn't consider Cyrus Greengrass as family anymore. They had never been close, but somehow he had still been her father. However his betrayal three weeks ago had stopped any positive feeling that had still existed in her. No, Cyrus had lost any chance he ever had with her.
The knowledge about her father's betrayal weighed heavily on her mind. Harry wanted to stay silent about it, wanted to spare Roxanne this kind of knowledge, but Daphne didn't agree this time. Her mother was far stronger than this. She simply had to know, not today but in the very near future. Two days ago Daphne had floo-called Narcissa to ask her advice and Lady Black had agreed to attend when Daphne told her mother about Cyrus Greengrass' betrayal. Daphne had chosen to ask for her help because she trusted Narcissa and expected her to control herself better than Ana or Agatha would in such a moment. Both her aunt and her grandma could be expected to simply blast Cyrus to hell for this act of betrayal. Narcissa had hinted that there was something else she would have to tell Roxanne about Cyrus, only increasing Daphne's inner turmoil and making her wonder how she'll endure the next days, with her anticipation rising every hour she had to wait.
"You're far healthier than three months ago, Dudley."
Roxanne's comment brought Daphne back from her worries and she took a careful look at Harry's cousin. Her mother was right. Dudley had certainly lost more than a stone of weight since Easter and had turned an equal amount of fat into healthy muscle mass. He certainly was neither a model beauty nor handsome in the classical sense, but at least he wasn't a meat loaf anymore. A part of this change had been thanks to a vigorous potion regimen, but apparently he had spent some time with physical training too. "Blood pressure, body fat index and blood glucose level – while still not optimal – are far better now. Your knees are positively reacting too, with more muscles and less weight overall. I'm very content with you, Dudley. Please continue with this."
"I will," Dudley agreed with a happy smile, something Daphne had hoped for but not fully expected. Not everybody would react like this after months of potions, training and enforced diet. "I feel far better now. No more breathing trouble after a bit of running and my boxing improved significantly." Daphne smirked for a moment, remembering how Harry had told her about his escapes from Happy-Harry-Hunting because of Dudley's lack of endurance in the past.
"Mister Jiles helped us a lot," Petunia interjected, her eyes resting on her son with much love and motherly pride. Daphne knew that Marc Jiles was an old friend of her grandma. He was a squib like the Dursleys and worked as a solicitor in the muggle world, as most wizards didn't really trust a squib to be competent in his job. Agatha had never followed those prejudices, had allowed him to handle a greater part of her Muggle businesses and had never been disappointed by his work. When Petunia left her home at Privet Drive a few months ago, Agatha had sent her to Mister Jiles to get help with the needed paper work. As far as Daphne knew the divorce was still in progress, despite Petunia's wish to be called 'Miss Evans' already, but many other things had been successfully organized already. Certainly it had been difficult for Petunia to handle all this after nearly two decades of leaving such things to her husband.
"He got Dudley a place at the 'Daniel Mendoza Sports Academy'. They offer some courses in economy too in preparation for later studies and Dudley will get competent help with his learning, the Headmaster promised me."
Daphne was happy to hear that. The change in the boy was clearly recognizable. To be away from his dominating father, the healthier life and the prospect of shaping his own future obviously had been good for him. Harry had told her that Dudley suffered from a light form of dyslexia, nothing too serious but a little help and guidance would certainly be positive for him. "And you, Petunia?" Daphne asked Harry's aunt. She still had reservations, was unable to fully forgive and forget how she had been to Harry for all these years, but she tried to build a bridge. It had certainly helped that Petunia had shown her willingness to accept the offer as did her surprising interest in sciences.
"I'll continue my own studies in a few weeks. With Mister Jiles' help I found a distance learning academy that was willing to give my intention a try to complete my degree in applied mathematics within two years. They were a bit reluctant to accept my old study certificates, but gave in at last. With Dudley at the sports academy and Winky doing the housework I should be fine."
That had been another surprise, Daphne thought with a smile. Winky, who like Dobby lived at Potter Manor, had started to help Petunia and to everybody's astonishment a friendship had blossomed between the house elf and the horse-faced no-nonsense woman. Winky had told Harry how the weeks had been at Petunia's cottage and apparently his aunt had a well-hidden fondness of flowers, crochet tablecloths and other feminine folderol, something Vernon had never allowed in 'his' house. Winky, after more than a decade in a pure men's household, blossomed when she realized that Petunia not only endured all these things, but really appreciated them. That both – Petunia and Winky – really loved to experiment with all kind of cookie recipes only intensified their friendship and more than once the Pinegrews found themselves recipients of another box with the results of those baking sessions, much to Hermione's joy who had an excuse to indulge her secret sweet tooth.
"Alright, I've finished the physical examination," Roxanne remarked with a small sigh. "Let us continue with the magical one. I assume you continued with your meditation exercises?"
Daphne, who had been the one to speak with Dudley four months ago about those exercises, allowed her mother to lead this conversation. She was eager to hear Roxanne's conclusions about the matter, trusting her mother's greater medical and most of all magical experience. Both Petunia and Dudley had turned out to be squibs, owning magical cores without enough power to cast a spell, but perhaps enough to allow some other things. Remembering Ana's explanations about potions, Daphne wondered if Petunia would like to learn the craft of creating potions. She knew already that Dudley loved the prospect of flying on a broom very much. She had explained Petunia what this 'meditation' was about, how it could help her son to strengthen his core, hopefully enough to allow him to make his wish reality.
"Yes," Petunia nodded. "Daphne explained the exercises and I guided Dudley through them. We exercised every day, didn't we, Dudley?"
Dudley nodded eagerly, allowing Roxanne to glance at her daughter. She assumed that Daphne had instructed Petunia to guide her son, instead of simply explaining the lessons to Dudley, to get her to participate in the exercises. This way Petunia simply had to train herself, too, despite her still existent caution towards all magical things. Sometimes it was easy to forget that her daughter was a Slytherin with reason. Roxanne looked at the paper she got from Daphne. It contained the results of the last examination and it would be interesting to see the difference. Would it be enough, would the result be a promise of a future core growth? Not every squib was able to improve his core through training. The older he started, the less likely an improvement was, something that would certainly hinder Filch's improvement. Perhaps Petunia was simply too old for this.
"Let's start with Dudley." Roxanne cast a number of spells and a '28' appeared on the examination paper. Dudley grinned broadly. His last result had been a '23' and Daphne had explained to him that around a 25 broom flying could be possible, the operative word being 'could'.
"Don't be too optimistic, Dudley," Roxanne stopped his enthusiasm, earning her a pout from the boy. It wasn't a cute pout, but more a reminder of those times when Dudley had a tantrum because of his 'lack of birthday presents'. Daphne sighed inwardly: You can't expect too much of a change within months.
"We could ask Sirius to make a training lesson with him, Mum. Mm, no, better chose someone else with more sense of responsibility," Daphne added with a grin. "And for the start Dudley could use a children's broom."
"That's a good idea," Roxanne agreed. "You know, a children's broom is slower than the normal ones and allows only ascending to a maximum height of ten feet. So, should you have any problems, you don't get hurt. However, you still have to continue your exercises, Dudley. The stronger your core, the safer the flying will be."
"And faster," Daphne added, knowing that this would be of more interest to the boy.
"Yes, and faster," Roxanne sighed and addressed Petunia, repeating her spells. Petunia had started a bit higher than her son, with a '26', but that hadn't been a surprise as most magic users reached their maximum aged twenty one to twenty five. Roxanne raised her eyebrow in surprise as she watched a '35' appear on the paper. This was interesting. Around '40' it became possible to cast very simple spells. Magical schools normally denied access below a value of '60' – or even '75' in case of Hogwarts. She remembered that Crabbe and Goyle had been barely able to reach that value, with whispers about some gold changing hands to get the examiner to sign those 80+ values. An average adult wizard had a MQ – a magical quotient – around 100, while strong ones sometimes even reached into values of 140 to 160. Dumbledore was certainly even higher. Roxanne had never belittled his magical power, only his moral values.
For a moment her eyes rested on Daphne. Her daughter had already nearly caught up with her mother and would certainly do the same with her grandma in a year or two. Like Hermione she was in the range of 130 to 140, with Neville closing the gap to them slowly. All three were way behind to Harry, who had shown a 152 on his birthday. In two years he could start his core meditation training in earnest and Roxanne was very eager to see the result of it. While 130 and 152 didn't seem too far away from each other, Roxanne knew that it wasn't a linear value, but more following a quadratic curve. This meant that Harry's magic was nearly 40% stronger than those of his friends, something that showed in every lesson. It was the reason too that he was far better at using magical energies leant to him through the mind link.
I have to speak with Agatha, Roxanne thought. We should teach Harry the Lancea spell. With the help of his friends he should be able to breach every shield using that spell. It could be useful one day.
"Mum?"
Daphne's face told her mother that it hadn't been for the first time she addressed her. Roxanne blushed slightly: "Sorry, deep in thoughts for a moment. Petunia, a '35' is very promising. With a bit of additional training and if we get you a special wand, it could be enough."
"Enough?"
"Enough to cast spells, Mum," Dudley grinned broadly.
Petunia frowned. "I… I don't know."
Roxanne, feeling her uneasiness about the idea, put her hand on Petunia's arm: "You don't have to decide now. Continue you training with Dudley for a while. Around Christmas I'll have a look again. I can't promise anything, but wouldn't it be nice to be able to cast a few household spells once in a while or a few low-powered healing spells?"
Petunia nodded slowly. "I'll think about that."
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Same Day – early afternoon
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Her expression a mix of a frown and a glare Daphne looked up as 'someone' picked up the book from her hands, that 'someone' being her broadly grinning boyfriend. "Stop reading, Missy! Time to greet the first bunch of your guests."
With a deep sigh Daphne left her cosy place at the window overlooking Toledo. Far more than spending time with her guests, she would have liked to simply sit here with her newest book for a day or two. Not that she was unhappy about the guest list, but this Muggle Psychology book was very fascinating. It belonged to a stack of books she got from Petunia and Dudley this morning.
"The last years haven't been easy for Harry," Petunia had explained. "No teenager should be forced to kill someone, even accidentally, and to Harry it already happened more than once. That Basilisk, the dragon last year and that abduction two months ago – Harry needs help to get over this without losing too much of his innocence. I'm certain he still has nightmares about it – God, I know I have. I really try to make up for his childhood, but I know that in a way it's simply too late for me. I can't be the help he needs, he'll never trust me enough to allow me that close to his heart. These books are about PTSD and similar repercussions of experiences like the ones Harry had. I hoped that they'll be helpful for you." Daphne remembered the unexpected gesture, Petunia's sudden embrace, very intensely. In that moment, feeling that Petunia was serious about it, that the woman had really started to change, she realized that perhaps they could be friends one day.
She put the book down and followed Harry. As a matter of fact it wasn't the first bunch of visitors as some of them had arrived hours ago. The first ones had been Petunia and Dudley, who already had left again. Then there were the Grangers – Dan and Emma – who had spent the morning with her daughter, speaking about their planned holiday, joined two hours ago and to Daphne's surprise by none else than Professor McGonagall. A few other teachers should be waiting in the sitting room now, but she had no idea why Hermione's favourite professor arrived so early and why she was so eager to speak with the Grangers. Harry had only shrugged: "She'll tell us later", his gesture said.
All annoyance Daphne had felt because of Harry's smirk was gone as she entered the sitting room. "Tori," the sight of Daphne tackling her little sister earned both girls a round of snickering. While Astoria blushed deeply, her older sister – very maturely – protruded her tongue to the audience.
"You have a bad influence on your girlfriend's behaviour, Harry," a grinning Sirius Black commented.
"Certainly not worse than yours on me," Harry deadpanned. "Hi Sirius, welcome Remus," he greeted his friends before he bowed slightly and gave Tonks a kiss on the hand.
"I see, Harry is learning," Tonks remarked with a smile.
"It's hard work," Daphne sighed, getting a nudge from Harry's elbow into her rips.
"I see what you mean."
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A few minutes later Harry was happily speaking with Luna and Colin about the next edition of the Quibbler, the adults watching them with content smiles. Especially Sirius and Remus liked to see Harry like this. Merlin knew how much the boy needed a bit of happiness after his experience at the cemetery of Little Hangleton. He had been forced to mature far too early and at his birthday party they had been a bit concerned about him and his lost adolescence. This moment did much to soothe their hearts again. Yes, Hermione and Daphne were very important to Harry, were the main factors that helped him to grow up and come to terms with the events of the past. Luna however was important too, they now realized, important because she allowed Harry to be really young again.
"Draco is very concerned," Astoria told her older sister. They had withdrawn into a quiet corner of the room and while Daphne's eyes never left Harry for long, she listened closely to Astoria's worries. "He's at Grimmauld Place now with his mother, waiting for the new school year. Draco fears that his father will enforce to be his guardian after the divorce and that he'll send him to Durmstrang to separate him from his mother."
Daphne sighed. A year ago she would have liked to see such a change. She would even wish Draco something along the line "Be happy and get lost." However that had changed since then. Slowly, partially thanks to Harry who surprisingly had accepted Astoria's love to the blond git earlier than Daphne, she had been willing give Draco a second chance. If Harry was able to forgive, how could she fight her sister's love?
Draco had started to change, something that was a very slow and bumpy process and could easily be reversed through a school transfer to Durmstrang. While there were some decent people at Durmstrang, its reputation as a 'grey to dark' school was certainly justified. Karkaroff, the former headmaster, had fled according to rumours. Severus – Professor Snape – had explained to her mother, that the former death Eater certainly feared revenge from his 'old friends' because of his betrayal after the war. Durmstrang would get a new headmaster, but would it be a change for the better? Daphne didn't expect it.
"Narcissa will visit us in a few days," Daphne quietly responded. She answered her sister's silent question – not fully truthfully: "She wants to speak with Mum, certainly about her plans for the future. I'm certain they'll find a solution. Stay calm and trust them. Mum and Aunt Cissy aren't Slytherins for nothing."
Astoria nodded hesitantly, hoping that her sister's confidence was justified.
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"Madam Amelia Bones," Auror Carmen announced and stepped aside to allow the head of the DMLE to enter the room. Daphne threw a last look on the table with her birthday gifts before she turned around. As expected she had got quite a number of books, some plants, sketches from Luna and pictures from Colin. The most important 'gift' was sitting on the table and watching her: Balou. Daphne had spent a large amount of time with the black-and-white tomcat in the last months and today Harry had it made official that he was hers now. Balou didn't seem to mind. For a short moment Daphne wondered about a comment from Harry that accompanied the gift: "Spiritualist Nowles wanted to speak with you about Balou too." She had no idea what that was about. Daphne shrugged. She would know in a while.
Another gift was missing on the table, but certainly it wouldn't have been appropriate there. In addition to some more innocent gifts about self-defence – Daphne grinned as she remembered the one booklet from Carmen about points of the male anatomy that very especially hurtful to attack – she had got from her bodyguard and from Aunt Ana something she didn't intend to show her mother: A .38 revolver complete with shoulder holster. "I know that you're mature enough to know that this is no toy, Daphne," Ana had stated very seriously. "In addition it is quite illegal to wear in England – or at Hogwarts. Show nobody, use a Disillusionment charm on it and draw it only in life-threatening situations. I'm not happy to give you this weapon, but if the choice is to lose you in a fight against someone like Dolohov or Bellatrix, I know my decision."
Daphne shared her aunt's opinion, but from now on she had to be careful about her hugs – and Harry had to know about it.
"Misses Bones, I'm happy you have been able to attend," she greeted her very important guest. With an open smile she greeted Susan who accompanied her aunt, before Daphne addressed the man that had followed Amelia. He was quite tall, broad-shouldered and able-bodied. Around forty, Daphne assumed.
"May I introduce my new secretary," Amelia reacted to Daphne's scrutinizing look.
The man stepped forward and blew a kiss on Daphne's knuckles: "Brychan Camwy, at your service." His deep voice sent shudders down every woman's spine and the reaction caused quite a number of glares from the watching men. Luckily Sirius was able to lighten the mood again: "A new 'Secretary', Amelia, how good for you." His expression declared that he expected some very special 'services' from the handsome man.
"Yes," Amelia deadpanned "his… talents… are quite adequate."
Susan's expression showed that it wasn't the first time she listened to comments about Brychan Camwy's looks and talents.
The conversation went on for a while. Sirius started to interrogate Brychan, who told that he stemmed from Wales but had been living in Italy for a while, what kind of 'talents' he had learned at his former occupation. Brychan was a bit shrouding about the exact identity of his last employee and why he had left the country, his statement about 'personal matters' earning him quite a few sniggering comments about being more careful with his nightly activities in the future. Harry however only had to glance once in Ana's direction to know that there was more about this man. He had to ask her later.
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House of Muriel Prewett
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"Your apple pie is delightful, Rose."
Rose Brown accepted Molly's compliment with a graceful smile. She sipped her tea while looking around. Molly Weasley hadn't really explained the location of her tea party – they were sitting in dining room of her aunt's home instead of meeting at the Burrow. Every woman knew the reason, the fallout between Molly and her husband, but it would have been bad manners to mention it. They all only hoped that Arthur would come to his senses again very soon.
All in all Molly had invited eight mothers of Hogwarts students, mostly of Ron's year. Her original list had been longer but a few had declined for different reasons and sadly the house simply wasn't large enough to offer room for more. Five Gryffindors, two Ravenclaws and a sole Hufflepuff – Molly had chosen wisely and was very content with the afternoon so far.
Naturally she knew about Albus Dumbledore's plans regarding Percy and Ron. While she had complete trust in Percy's abilities – after all he had finished Hogwarts with a fantastic result and got this marvellous promotion after only a year at the Ministry – Molly had realized that Ron could use some help. The group he intended to found would certainly be a hit, especially with the benefits he got through Albus' help. However some of the members Ron wanted to recruit would be reluctant at the start, especially those that already got a Prefect badge. To get to know their mothers and convince them that this group was a wonderful idea should be a good start.
"It is a family recipe. Lavender already learned it, too."
Molly smiled: "One day Lavender will make some guy very lucky." For a moment she thought about a way to engage Lavender to Ron. She was a real beauty, had learned something about household charms already and a single glance at her mother told Molly that Rose's daughter would one day have a motherly figure. With Bill the bachelor boy, Charlie following that French bitch around like a fool and the twins not mature enough to start a family or get a decent job after school, she had to make her own plans to get her share of grandchildren before dying of old age. Molly Rose Weasley had a fine ring.
Doing the round and pouring tea into the cups of her other guests, Molly stayed silent for a while and listened to her guests. Madison Belby, mother of the sixth year Ravenclaw Marcus, was pitiful in her attempt to make friends with Grace Towler and Phoebe Cornfoot. Both women lived in a completely other league than the Belbys – or the Weasleys, at least until Percy started his career. Why couldn't Arthur be like Percy, Molly sighed unhappily. Her husband had told her about his plans to live among Muggles for a few weeks, something that only strengthened her wish to hit him on the head to knock some reason into his snake-clouded mind.
Loreena Finnegan – following Albus' wish she had been invited despite her grave error to marry a Muggle – and Morven McLaggen were loudly complaining about the lack of action on behalf of the Ministry. Both were even more open than Molly about their opinion that 'all was going down the tubes' at Hogwarts. Most of their sentences started with "in my days" and ended with a deep sigh. No, those two weren't a concern to her anymore. She already had them in the bag.
She worried far more about her last two guests, both not among her usual friends and both certainly worth the effort. Chloe Rivers was the only Hufflepuff of the round, her son Oliver being the next prefect after Neville Longbottom declined the honour – certainly following the influence of his Mudblood girlfriend. She had been silent the whole time, looking very timid. This wasn't unusual for a 'Puff, but made it difficult to guess her opinion. More than once she answered to the idea about her son joining Ron's group with an evasive "I'll have to ask my husband". Molly sighed. Husbands shouldn't have a say in the education of their children. They never knew what was really going on.
Her last guest made it very difficult for Molly not to show her disgust. The hours with Albus learning the basics of Occlumency were helpful, but didn't change her feelings. Yes, Shanta Patil was a pureblood witch from an old family. However she shared her husband's silly religious beliefs and her dark skin told everybody that she wasn't a real British woman, despite her manners and excellent language. Sometimes education and uprising wasn't enough and only the fact that both Patil twins would be prefects next year had earned the Indian woman in her silly gown a place in this round. That she hadn't been willing to simply accept Molly's position about the new Snake professors only worsened Molly's opinion. No, Molly pondered, she had to be careful around her. Perhaps even her daughters weren't worth to endure this heathen.
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Higgs Cottage
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She didn't like to be here, especially not on her own. Why her husband had denied her request to accompany her, she didn't understand. Higgs was certainly not a very nice man, especially to those he deemed to be beneath him, something he assumed from every non-pureblood and every woman. Furthermore she was quite certain than under all this nice looks, sweet smiles and classy attire was hidden a very dangerous man. She didn't understand what her husband saw in him, why her husband was so eager to befriend him, eager enough to send his wife into this vipers' den.
With a very frustrated sigh she followed the tiny elf through the house and into the library where Higgs was waiting for her. "Answer every question he asks to your best knowledge," her husband had ordered her. "Be truthful, look him straight into the eyes and never try to hide something from him. He has to know." She nearly sighed again. Thinking back she didn't remember anymore why she had been willing to marry him eighteen years ago. Had there ever been love? Had he ever seen more in her than a means to an end? Now he was even willing to use his own son to further his 'career' among those… creatures.
For a second she felt the urge to turn around, to fetch her son and run away. However the feeling was gone after a moment and only depression remained. It was far too late to battle her fate. She could only hope that she would be able to protect her son, even if it meant to dance with the devil. All was lost.
Higgs left his armchair and greeted her with a dishonest smile. She felt unclean as he lifted her hand to blow a kiss on her knuckles. His voice grated on her nerves, but she knew that to disobey would only hasten her doom: "Good evening, Mrs. Rivers. Please tell me: How was your afternoon at Mrs. Weasley's tea party?"
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Toledo – early evening
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Soon the dancing would start. Daphne smiled, thinking about Hermione and Neville and how cute they would look – again. She loved watching her friends; they had changed so much last year, turned into open and self-confident people, willing and able to show their emotions and affection to each other despite dozens of watchers. When he was dancing with her, Neville had only eyes for his fiancée. It had been like that at his birthday party and it would like that again in a few minutes. The last guests had arrived, Spiritualist Nowles among them.
"Who is that woman at the side of Spiritualist Nowles?" Hermione asked in a whisper. "I think I've seen her before somewhere, but I can't remember where."
The woman Hermione was speaking about appeared to be even older than Nowles, but moved still gracefully. Her left hand was leaning very lightly on Madam Pomfrey's arm as all three women stepped nearer.
"Mrs. Montalcini, I didn't know you would be here tonight," Daphne smiled happily. "Thank you for coming."
"Montalcini?" Hermione wondered for a moment, before realization hit her and she stared at the elder lady with wide eyes. "You're Rita Levi-Montalcini, are you not?" Realizing that she behaved a bit like a giddy fangirl, Hermione blushed deeply and try to get back her countenance. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"You know her?" Daphne asked, not really surprised that her friend would recognize such a prominent scientist.
Hermione nodded eagerly. "Yes, I've read an article about Signora Montalcini's work in Neurobiology a few months ago. I wanted to learn more about it." She sighed: "Regretfully it was too difficult for me; I understood only half of the things that were described."
Sympathetically Poppy Pomfrey patted Hermione's arm: "Don't feel disappointed. I tried to read her work about Neurotrophine a while ago and had to admit defeat. Perhaps Daphne will continue there in the future. I'm still thinking it could be useful for healing the after-effects of the Cruciatus."
The elderly lady, despite being the centre of attention, had stayed silent the whole time, listening to the conversation and smiling softly. Daphne assumed that it wasn't for the first time that she heard someone admit to be unable to understand her work. The highly decorated and respected scientist hadn't got her Nobel Prize in Medicine for nothing. Suddenly she remembered her duties as the hostess. "Mrs. Montalcini, may I introduce to you: Miss Hermione Granger, a very dear friend of mine and my inspiring example at Hogwarts."
"Happy to meet you." Rita's voice was still vigorous and her eyes showed her clear mind. Hermione quickly realized that this frail body harboured a quick mind that was still willing to learn and explore.
"You know about Hogwarts?" She wondered. "You aren't a …"
"A witch?" Rita Montalcini asked back. Hermione nodded. "No, I'm not. I'm not even a… how do you call it, Poppy?"
"A squib," Poppy assisted.
"Yes, squib, that was the word. No, I'm a simple Muggle."
"Not so simple, I assure you," Daphne remarked with a smile, a statement accepted by Rita with a graceful nod.
"However I know about you and your kind. At the time the magical world fought against Grindelwald and my people against Mussolini, I got to know a few members of the Congregation. It is a connection I never regretted with all those great minds among them. Nel taught me about the ways of magical healing. It was fascinating, I have to admit." Hermione needed a moment to realize that Nel was none other than Spiritualist Nowles. "I have the hope that once we will be able to work together – Witches and Muggles – in helping everyone to defeat diseases. We could learn so much from each other, with open hearts and unprejudiced minds."
"I agree fully," Hermione simply stated – her voice and expression telling clearly how much she loved the idea to see this kind of cooperation.
"This wish is one of the reasons that I'm here today – aside from wishing you all the best, Daphne. I wanted to see your mother and speak with her about this examination spell Poppy mentioned."
"You mean this spell? Perspicientia Corporis!"
Daphne cast the spell with relaxed ease and a three-dimensional picture of her body appeared between the women, rotating slowly and showing clearly her inner organs and all nerve fibbers. Over the last years her mother had spent many hours working on this spell. It would revolutionize magical healing, Daphne was certain, allowing using a far lesser amount of intrusive magic to heal internal injuries, something that could be very important – even life-saving – in cases of extreme injuries where the body was unable to endure the normal amount of healing magic.
This spell was a clear sign of how impressive Roxanne's abilities were and that she should have obeyed her heart to get her Mastery in Charms, instead of following her mother's wish to continue the family tradition of Transfiguration masters. "Mother taught me the spell," Daphne answered Poppy's silent question, a little proud that she had been able to master the difficult spell. Rita examined the picture very carefully, tracing the nerve fibbers with her finger, mumbling to herself in a low voice, her eyes shining.
"This is wonderful. Could you show me this part – enlarged, perhaps with more contrast in the colours?" She pointed towards a knot of nerves near the sternum and Daphne happily obliged. While she hadn't her mother's experience with this spell, her natural talent with Charms was obvious again. The picture was extremely clear and even finer than Poppy remembered from the last time Roxanne had shown her the spell. "This is far better than our instruments. I would have been able to save countless hours in my research with such abilities. You must be delighted to have such magic at your fingertips, Poppy."
Poppy fidgeted a bit and sighed in a depressed manner. "Regretfully I'm not allowed to use this spell?"
"Why not?" Rita asked flabbergasted.
"The Ministry of Magic doesn't allow it," Daphne answered in her stead. "Two weeks ago they decided that this spell cannot be used at St. Mungo or within any other official Hospital. That means Hogwarts' Hospital Wing too. They don't assume it to be reliable enough."
"It is because it's on Muggle technology, isn't it?" Hermione asked with a small voice.
Daphne nodded weakly with teary eyes. "The bottom line is that Mum based her spell on the workings of some Muggle machines. They knew that at the Ministry and they're biased enough to forbid it because of that."
"So that was the reason of her mood."
"Yes," Daphne nodded weakly again. "She was very depressed for a few days."
Rita Montalcini patted Daphne's hand: "They will learn. I remember a time fifty years ago, where I was forced to live in the illegal underground of my hometown Florence, because the government hated the fact that my ancestors had been Sephardic. Since then they went head over heels to shower me with awards and accolades of all kind. Times change, people change."
"The Ministry of Greece accepted the spell last week." Everybody turned around as Spiritualist Nowles spoke for the first time. Their expressions were a mix of surprise and relief. "We entered into negotiations with the Ministries of Italy, Portugal and Spain too. It's looking well so far. I'm certain that at the end of the year your mother's spell will be used in half a dozen countries of southern Europe, everywhere where the Congregation has connections to the local governments and medical institutes. If Great Britain doesn't want this spell to help their healers doing their job, it will be their loss. However the Congregation won't allow such useful magic to be ignored because of bigotry and racism." She patted Daphne's arm and smiled softly: "Your mother did a real good job with that spell. I'm certain that it will save hundreds of lives in the future."
Daphne stared at her for a while. That had been one of the longest speeches she had ever heard from Spiritualist Nowles and it was really wonderful news. "Does Mum know about that?"
"No, I wanted to tell her later this evening."
"It will make her very happy."
.
Home of Severus Snape
.
I have to tell him, Severus Snape thought very unhappily. The prat has to know about the prophecy… and my part in the story.
Every time he thought about that part of his past, Severus Snape felt a strong pang of guilt. Because of him and his wish to be accepted among his 'friends', Lily had died. He hadn't known, but that did nothing to lessen his guilt. Severus had offered the Dark Lord his knowledge about the prophecy without realizing that this would spell the end to the woman he loved. When Voldemort learned the secret of Lily's hiding place from the traitor Pettigrew, Severus had tried everything to convince his master to spare Lily's life. It had been for naught. Lily died and left Severus behind, his life in shambles.
This turn of event had urged him to go to Dumbledore. He had wanted to make amends for his deed. However it hadn't been enough. Whatever he did since then, whatever pain he endured: He had never been able to find peace.
I deserve his hate, and hate me he will, Severus pondered, taking another gulp from his whiskey. After his return the Dark Lord will try everything to learn about the second part of the prophecy. To protect it had been Albus' reason to hide the fraud Trelawney at Hogwarts.
Trelawney and Dumbledore – they were they only persons who knew the whole prophecy – as far as Severus knew. Only Dumbledore knew it consciously, while Trelawney – like every seer – had that knowledge hidden somewhere in her drunken mind. A strong Legilimens like him could possibly unearth it.
I have to think about that. Perhaps I could ask that Spanish Cousin of Roxanne about it.
Another gulp of whiskey went down his gullet.
Potter – I have something to tell you and you won't like it in the least.
.
Toledo – late evening
.
"I hope you like the snacks, Mistress Ironsides." Harry smiled at the three Goblins without baring his teeth. Daphne had told him that Goblins could otherwise interpret such a well-meant gesture as hostile.
After an hour of continuous dancing, Daphne had allowed Harry a moment of recovery and left to speak with Spiritualist Nowles. Harry wanted to use the moment for a bit of small-talk with the three Goblin guests. Only a few others had dared to approach them, with Emma Granger interestingly being the most persistent conversation partner so far, apart from her daughter, naturally. Harry respected these Goblins very much, knowing how helpful Wyvernclaw had been in the past and how vicious Coppertooth was about protecting Harry's inheritance. Ironsides, the ancient Goblin lady, was still a mystery for him. However a woman that was able to reach the highest positions in the patriarchal society of the Goblins, first as a curse-breaker and now as the highest ranked accountant of Britain, was certainly someone who deserved respect. Add to this that she had been friends with his mother and Harry was certain about this grizzled Goblin lady being something very special.
"It is very adequate, Mister Potter. I was surprised to detect some Goblin specialties among the other delicacies."
Harry bowed slightly. "I have to apologize. It is not for the first time that the Goblins of Gringotts honoured my family with their presence, but I needed the admonition from Miss Granger to remember the different tastes of Humans and Goblins. I hope you forgive me my inattentiveness."
Ironsides reciprocated the gesture. "It is forgiven." She pondered about something for a moment, her companions staying silent at her side. "Miss Granger is very unusual young woman, as is her mother. I will be watching her progress with interest. Your mother would have liked both very much, Mister Potter, I'm certain about that."
"I don't know much about her," Harry admitted with a somewhat depressed voice. "She had to be a very special person to make such an impression on so many people."
Ironsides stared at Harry for a moment, before she nodded slowly. "She was a great woman, a sharp mind, a great heart and most of all a woman with a vision. Talent is nothing without a vision." Wyvernclaw's reaction, his wide eyes and rapid blinking, told Harry how unusual such a comment was about a human witch. "I see much of her personality in you, Mister Potter, luckily far more than from your father."
So this old Goblin lady belongs to the long row of 'Non-James-Potter-Fans', Harry suppressed a grin. He would love his father forever, for what he had been and done, for his bravery and especially for his love towards Lily Evans. However he had accepted months ago, that there was another, a darker side of his father, that didn't endear him much to others, weaknesses of his character that only proved to Harry that nobody was perfect – not even his father.
Ironsides addressed the Goblin at her side: "Wyvernclaw – tomorrow you'll tell Tremors that I expect him to examine the wards on house Granger personally. I want him to take his new apprentice with him. With 'His' return the Grangers could be in danger. I expect perfect work."
Harry's heart cramped for a second. He knew about the dangers, knew that his friendship with Hermione put her family in even more danger than the fact that she was a Muggleborn. Their house had already been protected with wards months ago, but that Ironsides was ordering Tremors, her own son, to strengthen the wards, calmed him immensely. He smiled shortly as he remembered that the mentioned apprentice was none other than Fleur Delacour.
"You…" Harry coughed slightly. "You believe me? About his return, I mean?"
Ironsides narrowed her eyes. "Please don't insult my intellect, Mister Potter. I'm not a narrow-minded Ministry official. Naturally I believe you as I do believe your family. If Agatha says she saw him, there is no doubt that statement being the truth."
"I apologize – again." Harry bowed a bit deeper this time.
"It's alright, Mister Potter." Ironsides showed a hint of a smile to tell him that she wasn't offended. After a moment she added: "Gringotts is on your side in this fight."
.
At the same time Daphne had found Spiritualist Nowles. Rita Montalcini had already left the party, accompanied by Poppy Pomfrey who wanted to ensure her safe return. Spiritualist Nowles – Nel, Daphne remembered with a grin – was relaxing in a comfortable armchair, a glass of Madeira in her hand, listening to the music with closed eyes. Daphne sat down on a settee and silently watched the grizzled lady. She had no idea how old she really was – only that she had already been an adult in the 1850s. Ana had told her about how Nel had been a nurse in the Krimean War, even met Florence Nightingale a few times; how she had been in the audience when the "International Committee of the Red Cross" had been founded in 1863 and again when it turned into the "International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement" after the First World War.
A life dedicated to the healing arts, Daphne mused. Could it be the same for me? She was startled as she noticed that Nel had opened her eyes and was watching her.
"Not only to the healing arts, child," her voice was stunningly soft. "Don't forget to live. I have a large family. Only a few of my eight children followed in my steps, but I love all of them dearly. In the long run a healer is only able to give as much as she gets. Look at your mother: She loves you and your sister dearly. You're the reason that she was able to do what she did. You can do great, child, even greater than I ever could, but listen closely to your heart."
Daphne relaxed, felt a knot dissolve in her stomach, the pictures about her future of a healing spinster turning into something that contained some green-eyed daughters and a dozen grandchildren. "I will try."
"Good," Nel nodded with a content smile. "However that wasn't the reason of your visit to an old, cantankerous lady."
"No," Daphne grinned: Cantankerous indeed, at least sometimes. "I wanted to ask about Balou … my tomcat." She pointed towards the rascal, who had followed her, somehow knowing that this conversation would be about him.
"Yes, Balou." Nel made a gesture and the tomcat jumped into her lap, allowing her to fondle his neck. After a while she looked up and asked softly: "Do you know why Balou loves you so dearly?"
Daphne pondered about the question and shook her head. It was true: At the start the tomcat had really been a 'Harry's cat', liking the Pinegrews too, but mostly following him. After a while that had changed. Thinking about it, Daphne remembered that it had started last winter. It had been a difficult time for her, a time to decide about her future. Did she want to become a Spirit Healer like Nel or should she choose a different path? More than one evening Balou had spent in her lap, purring, watching her untiringly, offering her the peace she needed to make her choice. Since then he had turned into a 'Daphne's cat' more and more. He still loved Harry and especially Roxanne – despite her mother being a self-proclaimed dog-person – but somehow he always found his way back to her. There was a kind of connection between them and more than once Daphne had wondered if Balou was able to sense her emotions like Crookshanks did with Hermione.
"I assume that Harry told you how he met Balou?"
Daphne nodded. She remembered the story: How Balou had been severely injured in a car accident. How he nearly died and only survived because his former owner – Mrs. Arabella Figg – and Harry spent many hours treating him. However how did Nel know that story? Daphne's eyes locked with Balou's: Did you tell her? It was a weird thought, but Daphne was unable to push it away.
"Balou nearly died back then. He only survived because an old lady and a young boy were unwilling to abandon him. They used a large amount of magic and potions back then together with an even larger amount of love. Such an experience would certainly change a person. Don't you think it would change a cat too?"
Daphne stared at Balou, a deep frown on her face. It was true: Such an experience would change a person. Could it do the same to an animal? She always assumed that Balou was a normal cat, not magical like the half-Kneazle Crookshanks, but as she thought about it, she remembered a number of moments where he had acted with far too much insight.
"I see: You realize it," Nel smiled. "Balou is far more now than a normal cat now. He owns his life to magical healing and he feels indebted. Balou wants to… to recompense. Because of that he chose you as his new companion. He felt that you chose Healing and so did he."
That made sense in a way, Daphne thought. "What does this mean for me – for us?"
Nel shrugged. "It means for you what you want it to mean. You could choose to ignore it. Then he'll be a more or less normal cat that is coincidentally living in the household of a healer."
"What if I don't want to ignore it?"
Nel sighed deeply and smiled, before she took a gift-wrapped book from her bag: "Then you should read this."