Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R.

Author's notes: Today at the bottom

Chapter 32 only, 15/04/18 - but almost 5k words

32

About an hour later they walked down into the lobby.

'Madame et monsieur Potter, you've got visitors.' The receptionist indicated with his hand towards a group of upholstered chairs around low coffee tables in the hotel lobby.

Daphne looked at Harry. Who would visit them on their honeymoon?

Harry's face lit up. 'Great, I was afraid they couldn't make it.' He took Daphne by the arm and led her towards the lounge area.

A young couple smiled at them.

Daphne gasped. 'Fleur, Bill!' She rushed to the young Veela who had become a friend to her over the last couple of weeks and hugged her. 'I had no idea you were in Paris.'

Harry, who exchanged a handshake with Bill, turned around at her words. 'I contacted them and asked them to come yesterday evening when you were in the bathroom. You mentioned you needed to go shopping for a dress for that Golden Apple Charity Dinner your mother is hosting in October, so I thought we'd better enlist Fleur's help. Afterall, she lived in Paris before she married Bill, and she tells me she knows all the best places.'

She put a hand on Harry's arm and beamed at him. 'Thank you, that's sweet of you.'

Fleur linked her arm with hers. 'Harry also asked for Bill's help. Apparently, you're not the only one who wants to go shopping.'

Harry laughed and gestured with his hands to the legs of his jeans which ended at his ankles. 'I had an unexpected growth spurt lately and am now in dire need of a new wardrobe.'

'Not only a growth spurt, it seems,' Bill said and eyed Harry's shirt that fit rather snug in the shoulders. 'You're looking good, Harry. What became of your glasses?'

Harry grinned. 'I don't need them anymore.'

Bill slapped him on the shoulder. 'That's great. So, everything's alright with you?'

'Yes, I'm better than I've ever been in my life,' Harry said, and led them to the breakfast room. He lowered his voice. 'The potion has worked several miracles. However, it was also the hardest time I've ever had in a hospital. Regrowing the bone in my arm with Skelegrow after Lockhart had vanished it was nothing compared to what I … we have just been through.'

Daphne's cheeks warmed slightly. He had included her! 'You can say that again,' she said, and a mirthless laugh escaped her lips.

They entered the elegant breakfast room. The smell of strong coffee and fresh croissants welcomed them. Bill held out a chair for his wife at a table for four. 'Was it that bad?'

'It was the worst thing I ever had to go through,' Daphne said. Her eyes stung, and she blinked a few times to keep herself from crying. Harry's hand was on the table beside hers, and after all these gruelling hours she'd spent beside his bed, held his hand and comforted him, it was the most natural thing on earth to take his hand.

Harry turned his head, his eyebrows raised, and gave her a contemplative look.

Heat rushed in her face. Of course he wouldn't remember what had happened while he was under the potion, he hadn't been himself most of the time. She pulled her hand away and cast a side glance at their guests. Had they noticed the moment of awkwardness?

Bill was studying the menu in search for additions the hotel offered to the plain continental breakfast of croissants, baguette, butter and jam. Fleur, however, gave her a small, knowing smile and a wink that indicated they'd talk later.

During breakfast, they made plans for the day. Fleur insisted they split up. 'I'll take Daphne to my favourite shops, and you'll go with Harry, Bill, or we'll never get everything done until tonight.'

'Yes, my love,' Bill replied, an amused smile around his lips. 'What about lunch?'

'Daphne and I will grab a salad somewhere,' Fleur said and waved her hands in a dismissive gesture.

Bill and Harry froze and exchanged an appalled look, and Daphne almost laughed out loud. No way they'd be content with a salad for lunch. 'Why don't you two have lunch together, and we all meet tonight for dinner?' she said.

Her idea met approval, and a short time later the two young couples split up and headed to their different destinations.

Fleur hailed a taxi. 'Galeries Lafayette,' she said to the driver and added something in rapid French Daphne didn't understand. She turned to Daphne in the back seat of the car. 'What kind of dress are you looking for?'

Daphne bit her lip. Until now, she'd done all her shopping for clothes together with Mother, and Mother's notions of what was becoming for a young girl were somewhat Victorian at their best. 'Something different, that's for sure. I'm so tired of looking like a little girl.'

Fleur's eyebrows went up, and she gave her an appraising look.

Oh, she knew how Fleur must see her: she looked like a twelve-year-old. She'd held back her hair with a bandana, and dressed in a straight jeans skirt that ended well below her knees, a light blue blouse with little puffed sleeves and matching ballet flats. There wasn't anything better in her wardrobe, Mother had prevented that.

'I see your point. So, you're striving for a complete new look?' Fleur asked.

Daphne took a deep breath. It was now or never. 'Yes!'

A delighted grin spread over Fleur's face, and she clapped her hands. 'Merveilleux! Of course you'll need a new haircut. There's a wonderful coiffeur at the Galeries. Oh, I can't wait to begin!'

Not even ten minutes later the taxi pulled up in front of the famous department store. Fleur left her no time to get her bearings, grabbed her by the hand, and almost dragged her to the hairdresser. In another blink of an eye she was seated in front of a huge crystal mirror, a pink cape spread over her clothes, and a young woman, not much older than her, asked for her wishes in rapid French.

She shrugged her shoulders and held out her hands, palms up, in a gesture of defeat. 'I didn't understand a word.'

Fleur laughed. 'She asked what haircut you wanted.'

'Something completely different. I want to get rid of the Alice-look.'

'Alice look?'

Daphne cast the young hairdresser a look from under her eyelashes. Most French didn't understand English, though, you never knew. Under the cover of the cloak she slipped her wand in her hand and thought, 'Muffliato!'

'Alice in Wonderland, a famous book by the Muggle author Lewis Carrol. One of my great-grandmothers was friends with him, so Tori and I grew up with this story. Alice is a young girl about twelve, I think, and often depicted in a demure dress and her hair held back by a bandana.'

The hairdresser stuck her finger in her ear, as if she had problems with her hearing. Good, the spell worked.

Fleur laughed. 'Ah, I see! Do you trust me, Daphne? I have an idea how to get rid of that look. However, it will mean you have to depart with most of your hair.'

'I trust you Fleur, do your best,' Daphne said. Anything was better than her boring straight, long hair. As soon as the words were out, her heart plummeted into her shoes. Into what had she got herself?

However, it was too late. A frantic gleam had appeared in Fleur's eyes, and she conversed in rapid French with the hairdresser - too fast for her to follow - while the hairdresser draped and combed her hair in different directions.

The discussion ended, and the hairdresser vanished behind a curtain that closed off a back room of the salon, only to return a couple of minutes later with a plastic cup filled with a strong smelling blue foam and a roll of aluminium foil in her hands. For the next thirty minutes, the hairdresser, assisted by an even younger apprentice, put the blue foam on strands of her hair with a brush and wrapped them in aluminium foil.

Daphne regarded her reflection in the mirror with furrowed eyebrows. She looked hilarious; thank Merlin Harry didn't see her like this.

Fleur had sat down beside her and paged through a couple of fashion magazines. Every now and then she'd point out looks to Daphne she thought would suit her.

'What is she doing with my hair?' Daphne asked in a whisper.

Fleur looked up from the magazine and gave her a broad smile. 'Don't worry, she's putting highlights in your hair. You'll love it. It's very difficult to get the same result with a Colouring Potion. You can freshen up the highlights with a Colour Spell if you don't want to go to a Muggle hairdresser every few weeks.'

She still had no idea what Fleur was talking about, and just nodded. A few minutes later the hairdresser put her under a hairdryer Fleur called the strange thing that looked like a plastic bonnet that hovered over her head, and gave her some fashion magazines to read.

It was warm under that hairdryer, too warm for an already hot early July morning, although the building was rather cool, thanks to whatever the Muggles had invented to imitate Cooling Charms. She looked around for the hairdresser. Thank Merlin, she was coming back to her.

The hairdresser unwrapped one of the strands, nodded, and motioned Daphne with her hand to walk to a line with sinks.

Ten minutes later she was back in front of the mirror. The aluminium foil was gone, and she had a first look at her still wet hair. It seemed lighter, however, the hairdresser left her no time for contemplation when she grabbed for her scissor, took a strand of Daphne's hair between her fingers and cut it off rather high.

Merlin, what was the woman doing to her? She closed her eyes. She didn't open them as the girl put away the scissor after what had been the most daunting forty minutes of her life, and now took a brush, a blow-dryer, and some sort of spray and styled her hair into a new form.

'Voilá,' the hairdresser said, and put out the blow-dryer.

She opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. The Alice-in-Wonderland-look was gone, that much was for sure. Her hair, now a shade lighter because of the highlights, was only just reaching her shoulders and played around her face in a fringy haircut.

'How do you like yourself?' Fleur asked. Her face beamed at her in the mirror.

Did she like it? It was a shock to see her waist long hair gone; barring that, she'd overcome the Alice-in-Wonderland-look without any doubt. Gone was the school girl, and a stylish young woman looked back at her from the mirror.

A huge smile spread over her face. 'Yes, I love it!'

'Good!' Fleur hugged her from behind. 'Lean back, we need to do your makeup.'

Daphne closed her eyes again. She as good as never wore makeup; Father detested it and deemed it inappropriate for young girls, except for special occasions. She'd used some colourless lip gloss and mascara at school, albeit never at home. It was about time to change that, too.

Twenty minutes later she looked at her new appearance in the mirror. Thank Merlin, she was still able to recognise herself. Even though she wore a full face of makeup, she didn't look like it. Her eyes were emphasised with some mascara and eyeliner, and instead of lip gloss she now wore lipstick in a light shade of red. She could live with that.

'Are you ready for the real fun?' Fleur's voice broke into her thoughts. She nodded, got up and went to pay.

Fleur linked arms with her and led her to the women's clothes department. From that point on, things became hazy. Father had given her a Bottomless Pouch and a Muggle credit card on the night before the wedding, together with the vault statements for her and Harry's vaults. The numbers at the bottom of the statements had made her eyes bulge. Even though her family was one of the wealthiest in Europe, Father had kept Tori and her on a short leash and watched their expenses closely. She knew that even with the staggering sum Harry had to pay for his treatment, there was more than enough money left for Harry and her to indulge themselves.

So, when she and Fleur sat down for a late lunch four hours later at the almost deserted salad bar of the Galeries Lafayette, shopping bags piled up in the empty seat beside her. They had not only found the perfect dress for Mother's charity event in October, but also bought a complete new wardrobe for her, and every piece more sexy and eye-catching than Mother ever would've deemed appropriate - not to mention Father.

The waiter came to take their orders, and served their drinks almost immediately.

Daphne let her eyes wander around. She had been shopping at Harrods' before with Mother. After all, the Greengrasses had vast interests in the Muggle world, and therefore frequently had to interact with Muggles. Contrary to most wizards and witches they knew how to dress, act and mingle with Muggles without raising suspicion. However, the elegance of the Galeries Lafayette surpassed the somewhat stiff atmosphere of the traditional British department store. Three floors of galeries rose above a huge ground floor. Everything was crowned by a gigantic glass cupola. From her place near the railing she had a good view at the shoppers in the opposite galeries and on the ground floor.

She gave Fleur a smile. 'I like it here. Thanks for taking me shopping here.'

'It has all my favourite shops,' Fleur said and took a sip of her drink. 'You'll get everything you need here, and you can take a break at one of the many restaurants when your feet hurt or you are hungry.'

She winked at Daphne, and Daphne broke out into giggles. Both girls had slipped out of their shoes as soon as they sat down.

The waiter served their salads soon after. After he had left, Fleur gave her an appraising look across the table, took her fork and speared some lettuce. 'How are things between you and Harry?'

'Better than I expected,' Daphne said, and picked up her own cutlery. 'Things were tense for a while when he found out that I learned most if not all of his secrets during his treatment, secrets he'd rather have kept under the rug. Entering that hotel room with him also wasn't easy. We had a long talk about our situation yesterday, and agreed on how we want to go on.'

Fleur raised her eyebrows, slid closer on her chair and leaned towards Daphne. 'And that is?'

Daphne's cheeks grew warm. 'Well, we agreed that we want to get to know each other and become friends before we… progress.' She didn't dare look at Fleur.

'Oh!' Fleur's eyebrows almost reached the line of her hair. 'How soon do you want to progress, if I may ask?'

Daphne shrugged her shoulders. 'It depends how comfortable we feel with each other, I guess.' She took a sip of her drink to hide her glowing face.

Fleur gave her a knowing glance. 'Guessing by the clothes you bought this morning, I suspect that you can't wait to become comfortable with him.'

The heat in Daphne's cheeks intensified. Could this talk get any more embarrassing? A warm hand covered hers.

'Don't worry Daphne, I'll help you,' Fleur said.

Daphne startled. 'Why are you doing this?'

Fleur retreated her hand. 'Because you are my friend, a very new friend but a friend nonetheless, and I get the added bonus that it'll anger my loving sister-in-law to no end.'

Daphne let out a small snort. 'I take it you don't like her.'

'Not at all.' Fleur said with a harsh laugh. 'I tried, really, I did. Nothing I did mattered or helped. She was against me from the very first moment; she put in zero effort to get to know me. Do you know that she calls me Phlegm behind my back? She thinks I am unaware. How dumb does she think I am? I wasn't chosen as a Triwizard Champion by the Goblet of Fire for nothing.' She took a shuddering breath. 'I shouldn't let her get to me like that. She's nothing but a spoilt brat. However, she's also Bill's baby sister, and he loves her to bits. I have to try and get along with her for Bill's sake, it isn't easy though, I can tell you.'

She gave Daphne a broad smile. 'So, if you want to pry your husband's heart out of Ginevra's clutches, I'm game. Harry's much too nice and far too forgiving for her; she will and does walk all over him. However, I can't point that out to him, unfortunately he won't see it yet. So I will help and protect him in any way I can. Tell me what you want to achieve, and I'll help you; I will help Harry by helping you capture and keep his heart, if that is what you desire.'

Daphne bit her lower lip. Should she tell Fleur about her attempt to catch Harry's interest, could she capture his heart? Truth to be told, she'd have been out of her depth if he'd done more than just stare at her, however titillating that had been. After all, Fleur was married for almost a year and had way more experience than she had, surely she'd be able to give her some good advice on enrapturing the man of her dreams?

She took a deep breath and told Fleur what she'd done that morning to attract Harry's attention.

Fleur listened while she ate her salad. When Daphne finished her story, she clapped her hands with a delighted chuckle. 'C'est fantastique! You are already well on your way, I'd say. However, new outfits isn't everything you need. I know exactly the place where we will go this afternoon. Harry won't know what hit him.' A feral grin spread over her face, and for a blink of an eye Daphne saw the predator-bird-like creature behind the beauty.

After their lunch, Fleur led her out of the department store and hailed a taxi that drove them to a small shop on the Rue St. Honoré.

Daphne's face, neck and ears became uncomfortably hot as soon as she entered the shop and her eyes fell on the most exciting lingerie she'd ever seen. Compared to this, the negligé Tori had given her for her wedding night seemed prudish.

Harry wouldn't know what hit him, indeed, if she ever had the guts to parade around in front of him in these delicate objects. However, would she know how to deal with him? She took a deep breath. She had to start somewhere, hadn't she?

Fleur must have seen her face and understood her dilemma, 'I think you misunderstand, my dear Daphne; these aren't for Harry alone. No, these are for you, if he sees you in them, so much the better. There is a silly little English saying that I have heard, "Cotton for you and Lace for him." Rubbish!'

Fleur looked her in the eyes. 'These will empower you, you will feel sexy in them, powerful, yet feminine. When you put these on, no one except someone you want to see them will see you in them, but you will know that you are wearing them and you will feel confident that you are a beautiful, sexy and powerful woman, and nothing can stop you from achieving your goals.'

Fleur gave her a conspiratorial wink. 'Lay a set of these out before you get ready, and he will be thinking all night about what you look like in them.'

Harry was already back in their room when she returned late in the afternoon. He lay on the bed and watched tv. At her sight his eyebrows went up. 'Wow!'

She blushed, raised her hand and twirled one of her short locks around her finger. 'Do you like it?'

He gave her an appraising look, then nodded. 'Yes; you looked like a twelve-year-old.' He cringed as the word slipped out. 'Sorry. This is much better.' He indicated with his hand at the shopping bags in her hands. 'I hope you left something in the shop for the other customers to buy.'

'Oh, plenty,' she said, leaned the shopping bags and her purse against the wall and, emboldened by his agreement with her new look, plopped down next to him on her side of the bed. She slipped out of her ballet flats and stretched out on the soft bed with a tired sigh. 'These are the bags I carried for the benefit of the staff. The rest are shrunken and in my purse.'

He gave her his trademark lopsided grin. 'My, my, Mrs Potter, you've been busy.'

The swarm of butterflies that had taken permanent residence in her belly ever since their wedding fluttered, and she averted her eyes. Her gaze fell on the chair in front of the dressing table. A stack of shopping bags covered the seat, and additional bags leaned against its legs. She snorted. 'You're one to talk.'

He joined her laughter, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. 'Merlin, I'm parched after this day of shopping.' He went to the minibar and got a bottle of water out of it. He showed it to her. 'You want some?'

'Yes, please.'

He poured the water into two glasses, handed one to her and settled back onto the bed, his upper body propped up against the headboard. 'Bill made dinner reservations for tonight,' he told her between two sips.

Daphne put her glass on the bedside table and looked at her wristwatch. 'And you tell me that now? How much time have we left until we have to be ready? I need a shower, and I need to change.'

Harry grinned. 'Don't worry, we're going to meet them at eight. Plenty of time to get ready.'

'That's something only a male can say,' she said and sprung to her feet. 'You can shower and change when I'm ready.' She walked over to her stack of shopping bags and pulled out a set of the sinful new silk lingerie she'd bought that afternoon. She put the underwear at the foot of her side of the bed, took a handful of shrunken shopping bags out of her purse and enlarged them. While she searched the bags for a dress to wear that evening and matching shoes, she cast a surreptitious look at Harry.

The clothes, or strips of fabric rather, on her side of the bed were hard to overlook. He had his head averted and a faint blush dusted his cheekbones.

Daphne grinned into the bag in front of her. Oh, Fleur had been spot on with her advice. It didn't take much to keep him on his toes around her. She snatched up the items of clothes she had decided on and slipped into the bathroom to shower and dress up for the night in a blue sleeveless dress with pink and white flowers printed on it. The wide skirt billowed over a matching white petticoat with blue and pink flowers that stuck out from under the skirt for four inches, yet still ended so high above her knees that Mother would suffer a severe shock. Her waist looked tiny in the dress, and her legs seemed endless, a fact emphasised by the white, high-heeled sandals she wore.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Harry still was on the bed. He had a deep frown on his face and studied a newspaper clipping in his hand. More clippings were scattered around him.

At her entrance he looked up, and the frown on his face gave place to an appreciative smile. 'Wow, you look good.'

Warmth crept into her cheeks. This was the second compliment he paid her, she could get used to that. 'Thank you.' She sat down on her side on the bed and motioned with her hand towards the newspaper clippings. 'What are you reading?'

The smile vanished from his face, and he frowned again. 'Your father sent Matty with these while you were under the shower. It seems The Daily Prophet has a field day with our marriage. There are other clippings, too, from a few European newspapers, and from the USA, Australia and India; however, they aren't as bad as the articles in the Prophet.'

Daphne rolled her eyes. 'That was to be expected, wasn't it? Let me guess, I'm a scheming, budding Dark Witch who got you in her clutches by Love Potions and Dark Magic?'

That made him laugh. 'Right in one. However, they changed their tunes when your father made a press statement that our marriage was because of an old family agreement.'

'And that's better because…?' She raised her eyebrows at him.

He shifted on the bed and turned red. 'Uh… Not really. Now Skeeter speculates about the state of our marriage, and how long it will last.' His eyes didn't meet hers. 'I'd better get ready, too,' he said and got up.

Daphne didn't reply. She watched how he took fresh clothes out of his bags and walked into the bathroom, then she gathered the newspaper clippings and studied them.

He hadn't told her everything. Skeeter was well aware of Harry's relationship with the Weaselette - after all, they hadn't made a secret about it - and gushed about the separated lovers, while she also spared a few lines of false sympathy for her: would Harry be faithful to her or would their marriage forever be overshadowed by a continued adulterous relationship to the Weaselette?

Well, that was something she and Skeeter had in common. She'd also like to know whether Harry planned on continuing his relationship with the obnoxious redhead. However, that was an elephant in the room she didn't dare to bring up, at least not yet. They didn't know each other well enough for that discussion.

The door of the bathroom opened and interrupted her thoughts. Harry came out, dressed in tan slacks and a white and emerald striped button-down shirt. He still didn't look at her while he slipped into a pair of dress shoes.

The elephant in the room grew until it took up almost all of the space.

This was ridiculous. She had to do something about it. She cleared her throat. 'We have to talk, Harry.'

He turned around to her and shoved his hands into the pocket of his slacks, though his eyes still didn't meet hers. 'What's there to talk? This is our fourth year all over again, isn't it? Skeeter will write about us what she pleases and we can't do anything about it.'

He bent his head and scowled at the floor.

She got up, walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. 'Yes, that's true, unfortunately. However, it depends on us if we give her additional ammunition, don't you think?'

Harry's head jerked up, and he stared at her, a frown on his face.

'She can't do much if we present a united front at the outside. Oh, she will speculate, there's no doubt about that, but people won't listen to her if what they see doesn't match up to what she writes.'

His eyes searched her face. 'Alright, what do you want from me? I'm not following you here.'

'You and I have to appear as the happy young couple in public. We never, ever show that we didn't enter in this marriage on our own free will. We're not allowed to show any disagreement between us when we're in public. If we do have disagreements, we need to clear the air in private and behind strong privacy wards.'

Harry nodded to her words, and a weight lifted off her mind. Phew, who'd have thought he'll agree that easily? However, she had to mention the Weaselette, there was no way around it. She bit her lip, took a deep breath and steadied herself.

'There's one thing more. Whatever you're going to do, please be discreet about it.'

He stared at her, incomprehension written all over his face. Then his eyes went huge, and he blushed. He turned away from her. 'You don't have to worry about that.'

She stared at his back, and her heart sank into the deepest pit of her stomach. So, he was going to continue his relationship with the Weaselette. Well, she'd expected that, didn't she? She bit on her lips until the pressure behind her eyes subsided. She was the intruder in this ménage à trois, she had no right to feel hurt. If she repeated that mantra to herself often enough, she'd be able to believe it - eventually.

t.b.c.

Author's notes: As always, a big thank you to Shygui for an amazing job with editing. It was his idea to involve Fleur and Bill, and I think the story profited from Daphne having an older friend to support and guide her, and from Daphne and Harry to start to make mutual friends. Once again, thank you, Shygui, you are the best!