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"Daphne?"

Daphne turned back to see her father getting ready and reaching for his coat.

"Yes father?"

"Aah, you see I and Harry here, are going for a business meeting", he looked sharply at Harry, "to introduce him to a couple of my associates."

Harry nodded in turn automatically.

"So could you", he turned to her, "go off to the winery to see if the workers have got their Christmas bonuses on my behalf?"

Daphne had a hundred questions running into her mind at that instant. Why was her father taking Harry out for business work? What was the sudden urgency? Why now? She wanted to fire questions at them all at once.

"Sure Dad." She nodded.

Giving his eldest daughter a serene smile, he took his soon-to-be son-in-law 's hand and apparated away. Daphne watched her betrothed leave with her dad, her thoughts running back to their time spent yesterday in her room.


Peter Pettigrew was in a dilemma. The last twelve years that he had spent as a rat were almost... satisfying to him in a strange way. No worries, no calls from the dark lord, no mad enemies trying to kill him, no estranged death-eater friends to look out for, just him, a tiny old brown rat with one lost paw, living off the generous food offered by the banshee of a woman. He was lucky that the red headed lazy boy that used to own him as a pet was a voracious eater and perhaps the laziest guy on the planet. How that dumb troll could ever be insanely good at chess, he could never understand. Perhaps the other redheads were a bunch of morons when it came to chess or something. Nevertheless, his life was still satisfying enough, if not as a wizard then as a rat. Not to mention he often got a good show from the women of the house hiding in his rat form.

But those days were now over. Peter Pettigrew, war hero and winner of Order-of-merlin, was now Peter Pettigrew, betrayer of the Potters and a fugitive death eater, and all of that because of that Boy. How he loathed Harry Potter. Even if Sirius had been able to break out of Azkaban, chances were negligible that he would have been able to catch Peter if not for that damned child of Lily and James Potter. How that cretin survived his master's killing curse he would never understand. He was almost bidding his time in anticipation for the wretched child to arrive so that he could kill him with his bare hands. And if not for Albus Dumbledore, he even might have succeeded. But his greatest surprise had come when he had found that his master had been living off as some sort of symbiont on another professor's head. It was completely a misfortune that he had come to hear of it after said professor was burnt to a crisp by that same wretched boy and that his master had to supposedly flee away to survive. Balls! He did not understand what to believe and what not. But one thing was sure, his master was alive, well ... alive in a wraith form. He wondered if he should just let the news let it be as it was. But then, he remembered how he was treated by the higher pureblood families at his Lord's service. He did not want to be like Snape, a slave to two masters. But what if he helped the Dark Lord to resurrect himself back to his old self? Surely his master would provide him with greater powers and a higher position in his inner circle. He would then show the Malfoys and the Selwyns the finger in the eye. But could he achieve that? He had to get a clue where to begin. He had to—

Peter's inner monologue was interrupted by an odd flutter of wings above him. Looking up, he found a rather old barn owl trying to reach him. His animagus senses suddenly overpowering him, he jumped away in hope to survive. Suddenly remembering that he was in his wizard form and not in rat form, he stood back and checked the owl.

A letter? Who would send me a letter?

Checking for portkey using a makeshift wand he had stolen from an ignorant wizard in Diagon Alley, he assessed the parchment. Finding none, he reluctantly opened the letter to read its contents. His eyebrows rose further and further until it almost hid among his bushy hair locks, as he read.

Dear Wormtail,

I hope this letter finds you in good mental and physical health (relatively speaking that is). The boy is going to be at Greengrass manor for the holidays. I wish you best of luck in your endeavor in trying to fulfill your secret desire that your mind always seemed to be clouded with. No, you do not know me and my chaotic plans are not yours to unravel. Try to do otherwise and...everything burns...

Yours truly,

You-know-who.

You-know-who? Was it his master? But his master was in the form of a wraith. Had he repossessed another wizard? But then, the lettering style was so ambiguous. How could his master have known what he had been desiring since the last year? And if it was not him, then who was it? This was completely a letter by some deranged lunatic. But then again, his Lord was a sort of deranged lunatic. This was crazy.

He looked back at the contents of the letter. The boy was at the Greengrasses. Away from Dumbledore's direct influence. He had heard Ronald complaining how Harry had diverted away, and was no more best mates with him. The things teenagers do to satisfy their overlarge egos. It was delusional.

But.... Peter's lips twisted to form a cruel smirk. Now I have a clue...


Harry had just arrived back home with Cyrus after what could be termed as an interesting cum exhaustive day out. The meetings they had, the people were surely interesting, but after you repeat the process over twelve times, it barely retains any of the interest anymore. Still, the meetings had given him quite a perception of the way the brains of the neutral people tended to run and the buttons hat tended to put them in excitation or revulsion. He figured that it was a good first step for his eventual role at the Wizengamot when he would turn of age.

"Harry! You are finally home!" He heard Daphne shout out with an excitement that was almost foreign to her. He decided that their private moments at her room might have affected his betrothal's mood more than he had thought. Smiling, he strode towards her as she walked up to him and embraced him tightly.

Feeling her well-endowed assets was pleasant to him, but the knowledge that they were in public was not. Betrothed he might be, but he did not want any kind of forced pleasantness between Daphne's family and him. His thoughts went on a runner on Daphne's next words.

"Harry, I want you to teach me how to fly on your Nimbus."

Daphne? Flying? Was the world coming to an end?

"Daphne? Are you... all right?" He asked, true concern shining in his eyes.

Daphne almost gulped. "No, Harry. Why are you asking?"

"Just checking." Harry preened at her closely.

"So are you taking me flying or not?" Daphne asked with a huff.

Of course Mistress, of course!" Harry bowed, doing a very funny imitation of a house-elf.

"Prat!" She swayed a hand over his shoulder, trying to punch him.

"Okay okayyy, don't get so violent mistress..." harry laughed, and holding her arm in a rather formal manner, "Shall we?"

Daphne smirked. "Of course my Lord. I even have your broomstick ready with me!"

To say Daphne was scared was a bit unfair. She was, positively terrified when Harry suddenly tore through the air and then took a sharp dive. Squealing her lungs out, she cursed loudly.

"Harry if we die I am going to haunt you forever!"

Harry just smirked and took her for another dive; Daphne's squeals ringing in his years. Out of nowhere, a crimson spell shot out and hit his broomstick, breaking its posterior end, and the couple completely lost it and were rapidly falling through the air. It happened so sudden that it caught Harry unguarded and now here he was, falling down to the ground from a hundred meters above in the air, his betrothed still clinging to him as they fell.

"Arresto momentum!" He yelled with all his might.

An invisible dragging force lifted him upwards, and his fall was now almost regulated enough. But then Daphne had to lose he hold on Harry and his attention broke. With one heavy thud, they fell down on the ground, Daphne falling above her betrothed, breaking a few of his ribs for sure.

His primal survival instinct taking over his bodily pains, Harry got up quickly and surveyed the area, hoping to figure out the source of that blasting spell that had hit his broomstick. Whoever had done that, was clearly attempting to kill him, and by inclusion, Daphne. He would be damned if he let anyone harm his girl ever again.

"Hello Harry!"

A very familiar but hated voice called him from behind. Turning back, Harry could hardly believe himself. Standing in front of him, wand pointed at his head, was a smirking Peter Pettigrew.


His danger alerts now overactive, Harry focused on what he had learnt from his mentors all this time. Now would be a good test of where he actually stood. But there was a complication. Daphne. She was wounded, and in pain. He would not allow Peter to take advantage of her, no matter how he himself was hurting and in pain at the moment. His primal instincts focused, he prepared himself for battle.

"Attero... Confringo... Obtero..." Harry kept on firing blasting and bludgeoning spells, all chained together like so many times before, to Pettigrew. Somehow Peter was able to deflect, dodge and shield away from his attempts. Harry continued to rapid fire the low power curses at him, trying to tire his opponent out. Taking a cutting curse to the leg, Pettigrew flipped out and fell, only to regain his position spectacularly fast, and fired a dark withering curse at Harry.

Bringing the Aegis shield into action, Harry defended and let loose another flurry of spells, this time of a little higher power level. If he were true to himself, he was simply testing the waters. He knew he could use more powerful spells but he did not want to play his hand and show his cards out. Pettigrew retaliated with Auror level spells and some dark curses, panting all the while, clearl having the shorter end of the stick now. Harry was now sure that he was gaining the upper ground by this time. He took a moment to glance back at Daphne and saw her slowly get up and come up to him. Hoping to shield her from any accidental spell fire, he slowly moved back, hiding her from the death eater's direct sight.

"Daphne!" he panted, "Are you all right?"

"Yes." There was a foreign tone in her voice. Harry was hardly able to discern the gut feeling in his mind, when he was suddenly struck down by a strong elemental lightning spell. From Behind.

With a guttural cry of pain, he glanced back, only to see Daphne's wand pointed behind him. A smirk in her clouded blue eyes, filled with cruelty.

"Fulmen!"

Another blast of lightning traversed through her wand, travelling at light speed, hitting Harry right on his ribs. He was blasted away by a few meters as he fell down with a thud.

"Finish him, girl!" Peter's voice came from behind. Harry's mind now raced at light speed at the surprise turn of events. Why was Daphne attacking him? Why would she join Peter? Why would he see the hatred clouded in her-?

Clouded. Salazar had taught Harry about the Unforgivables. The Imperius Curse. One that clouds the mind, takes over your rational thought process, essentially rendering you into a mindless slave of the person who has you under the curse. He turned to look at Daphne again, her posture stiff, most unlike when she would fight during the mock battles they sometimes had in the third floor corridor during their practice sessions. Merlin! She was under the Imperius.

"Daphne!" his voice now carried the bodily pain he felt, almost surprising him.

"Fight the curse, Daphne! You are stronger than this. This is not you."

"Kill him girl! I order you."

Daphne nodded and raised her wand, the incantation ready on her lips, but for some reason, she did not want to do so. The voices in her head were convincing. The feeling was so pleasant. It would be a good idea to take Harry out for flying. It would be a good idea to hit Harry with that lightning spell Harry had taught her. It would be a good idea to kill Harry-

Kill Harry? Why would she want to do that? She liked him...she was fond of him... she...loved him. The voice was getting stronger every moment. Her body functioned against her will now, as she tried to stop herself. Her wand raised towards the object of her passions, the incantation ready on her lip, but all she could see was the green eyed boy looking at him with... sadness?

"Daphne! Fight the curse!" Harry's voice rebounded within her mind. She had hurt Harry. Again. She was stronger than the curse. She would not let it control her. She would not.

With a guttural cry, she threw the wand away from her hand. It took all her strength to do so. She had never felt so exhausted in her life. Trying to put up one last smile as she turned towards her loves, she had now accepted it completely, she lost consciousness.

"Bah! And to think I was almost having fun!" spat Pettigrew. "Never you mind, Potter. Effligo" he muttered, and a blasting curse hit Harry again, making him lose consciousness immediately.


Cyrus Greengrass had been having quite a busy day. First with meeting his associates and then introducing them to the young man next to him, the young man who was the new Lord of Slytherin and one of the most steadfast persons he had ever had the pleasure to meet. The entire day had gone in a blur, however exhaustive it was. He was now looking forward to the day Harry finally took his seats at the Wizengamot. It would be fun rallying with him against the other factions of the Wizarding world. He could almost theorize the wheels turning in the minds of Albus Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy right now. Their faces were in a right...state on hearing that the Lordship of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin was in alliance with the Ancient House of Greengrass, and would be rallying under the neutral banner. They were even more shocked when he had claimed proxy for the seat of Slytherin for the time being. His plans with Harry, Harry's idea of not making his Potter seat active but only the Slytherin one, was a cunning plan. No one, save a few of Daphne's friends knew that Harry was in fact, the new Lord of Slytherin. He was sure that Harry had already received a flurry of owls from different Houses, asking for alliances and likewise.

The boy was truly wonderful. Inspire of being exhausted after the day's ordeals, he had immediately accepted Daphne's demand of going flying with her. Cyrus was almost... disappointed with his eldest daughter's unladylike behavior. He had always believed that she strictly adhered to the Pureblood customs and was mature beyond her years. Yet for her to behave so, was odd.

Yes, it was Odd. Sure every girl displayed some level of oddity during her teens; raging hormones and everything. But then, there was Odd and then there was Odd. This oddity, Cyrus theorized, was strangely of the later type. He could never imagine that his fears would be manifested as within some moments, the estranged voice of his dear daughter, bawling out, weeping her eyes out, as she ran towards him. Holding her firm, he asked her firmly.

"Daphne! Daphne! what is wrong!"

"It's Harry. I was... Harry is now... Harry is in danger... Harry!" Daphne bawled out.

"Daphne! I will save Harry. Now...", he held her firm, "look into my eyes."