Cope, Just Cope

James Potter was sitting at dinner at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall when his head of house, accompanied by Headmistress McGonagall left the dais via the steps at one end, crossed the room and proceeded to walk straight up to James. The parchment in the headmistress' hand and the look on her face combined to insert one thought into James' mind: "This cannot be good."

James tried to think of what he might have done to merit a visit of such horsepower but came up blank. He turned his head to the visiting delegation.

"Professor Bulstrode. Professor McGonagall," he said.

"Perhaps you could join Professor Bulstrode and me for a chat, Mr. Potter?"

Silly question, really, James reflected later in the evening. No first year will decline such an invitation from the headmistress. James left his meal, rose and followed the two women from the hall.

James expected to learn what was on their minds outside the hall, or perhaps in a nearby room that wasn't in use. He was surprised to find himself climbing stairs, turning at each opportunity in the direction of the headmistress' office. Shortly, the process of elimination underlined what could not be denied, that something very serious was up.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter," said the headmistress. "I'm afraid we have some bad news from home."

It felt like the bottom of James' stomach had just fallen out.

"Mum?" James asked, thinking 'Accident. Quidditch training.'

"Dad?" Robbery gone bad while driving the cab.

"Albus?" Being Albus.

"Lily?" Baby sister, a true innocent, a favorite target of Fate.

"Ms. Daphne Greengrass, who I believe is a close friend of your whole family, has been killed in an incident of some sort. The details are confused at the moment. I have an owl post here from her sister, Astoria Malfoy. You're welcome to read it."

Professor McGonagall offered James the parchment.

"Please inform James Potter we've had a family tragedy here today. Daphne, my sister and Iere's mother, was killed in an attack. Her former betrothed, Llewellyn Nott, cast a curse that led to Daphne's death. Her body is at St. Mungo's. The aurors are investigating. We will send more when we know more."

James read the entire note twice. There weren't a lot of details. Merlin! James had dared to picture Harry and his family blending with Daphne and Iere. They would finish growing up together then James would make a ton of money playing football and create a home with Iere, full of love and wonderful scents. He would do the magic and Iere would find them animals to watch and know how much James loved her because she could feel his emotions. He read Astoria's note again. It said the same thing, which James' heart said could not be true while his head said it surely was.

"We need to tell James," Iere said to Astoria.

Her aunt wasn't doing very well, she could see, and feel. Some distractions might help and it had to be done. James wouldn't like hearing by accident or from reading about it in the Daily Prophet.

"Absolutely," said Draco. He pulled out a drawer and removed some parchment, ink and quill.

"Let me," said Astoria. "I'll send it to McGonagall, that way she'll know, too."

Draco and Harry nodded, murmuring assent.

Iere left them to it and moved to the living room where she sat with Scorpius, Albus and Lily. The three understood the concept of death but they never knew a dead person before. They looked at Iere, in awe of her majesty. They imagined she had moved out of their childhood space and now had common ground with the bronze heroes on plinths and pediments they saw when their parents took them on excursions in London. They all wanted her story and newfound knowledge but none wanted to ask.

"I love you all," Iere said, looking around the room.

Three voices returned, "I love you."

"Mum loved you too," said Iere. "She told me so."

Albus and Scorpius said, "Gosh."

Lily began to cry and jumped on Iere's lap, nearly climbing her so she could wrap her arms around Iere's neck.

"What will we do now?" asked Scorpius.

"We'll cry until we get over it and then we will do the best we can," said Iere.

Isolde Greengrass arrived via floo, the WHOOSH of the green flames nearly out-shouted by Isolde's wailing.

"No! No! There's some mistake," Isolde cried.

Cyrus popped out of the fireplace and reached for his wife.

"Don't, Isolde, let me just hold you here for as long as it takes. This is something you will have to accept, isn't it? Of course. Let it out and then we'll plan what to do next."

Astoria found the tableau revolting. She knew it was wrong but she still blamed Cyrus Greengrass for the half of Daphne's short life that went absolutely haywire. Had Cyrus not entered negotiations with the Notts, Daphne would not have been betrothed to Llewellyn, who would not have taken and abandoned her to raise his child by herself, only to return for some personal reason just when Daphne and Iere were so close to joining up with Harry and his brood of Potters and forming a nice, stable family.

Isolde, of course, had brought the crisis on by acting as Mathilda Nott's messenger girl, passing along Mathilda's invitation. Astoria didn't forgive herself, either. She might have counseled Daphne to go ahead. Astoria wasn't above getting someone like Mathilda Nott's attention and giving her a piece of her mind. Astoria wasn't one to let things stew. She believed in clearing the air. Daphne had left for Nott Hall from Jasper Farm. She'd asked for an hour. Why didn't Astoria give her fifteen minutes?

"Auntie?"

Iere stood in the kitchen doorway, awaiting Astoria's acknowledgment. When she had it, she put her arm around Astoria's waist, letting Astoria hold onto her shoulder.

"Mum wouldn't want this," Iere said. She looked straight into her grandmother's eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart, your heart…"

"It's broken," said Iere. "You don't have to tell me, Grandmother Isolde. I'm being strong for my mother and my guests."

Iere raised her chin in the direction of the door.

When it came time for the adults to discuss living arrangements for Iere, Astoria made a strong case to stay at Jasper Farm. Draco and Scorpius were all enthusiastic. Cyrus and Isolde had a superficial understanding of Iere's abilities. Iere was beginning to understand what a threat she posed to some magicals. So accustomed to possessing power and abilities unknown to muggles, witches and wizards could become alienated or violent if they came into contact with an empath with Iere's power and abilities. The silent, undetectable insertion of emotion into a mind, disconnected from any phenomena in the detectable universe, was a concept so alien to magical thinking that a simple discussion could lead to physical violence. Some wizards denied the phenomenon existed at all, insisting the empath was using ordinary magic, spells hexes and potions, surreptitiously.

Daphne was beginning to sense the magnitude of Iere's power. She had discussed it with Astoria and Draco. She wanted them to foster Iere if anything happened to her. She'd meant to put it in writing but kept putting it off. Now Iere was being discussed.

"Do I have a say?" Iere asked.

The little group sat around the table at Jasper Farm, Astoria, Draco, Isolde and Cyrus. Harry had taken Scorpius home for an overnight with Albus.

"Absolutely," said Draco. "I apologize for not letting you speak first."

"No apology necessary," Iere assured him. "I would like to stay at Owl Cottage. I can tend the poultry. I can make every dish Auntie can. Owl Cottage has been my home forever. Mum's spirit will always be there, for me. You're all free to check on me, as much as you like. Let me know you're coming and I'll have something ready to eat."

The four adults looked around the table, from face to face to face. Iere's age argued against her request, but it was Iere they were discussing. She could, and would, take care of herself, they believed.

"Iere, sweetheart, do you think you should be alone?" Astoria asked.

"Can I come over here anytime I like?"

"Of course, of course, anytime, spend the night, spend the weekend…" Draco and Astoria answered, talking over themselves.

"Well, then?"

The adults didn't like it, mainly because Iere hadn't attained her majority. On the other hand, no one thought she would have difficulty doing exactly what she had said she would do—feed and care for herself while she managed Owl Cottage just the way Daphne would have wanted.

"I don't want you spending your nights alone for a few weeks," said Astoria. "Would you tolerate me under your roof, maybe coming here to spend the nights? Alternating? A night here, a night there?"

Iere looked around the table.

"Grandmother Isolde, it is still your house," she said, giving Isolde an opening if she wanted to object.

"Oh, we don't need it," said Isolde. "It will be better lived-in."

Cyrus didn't seem to have anything to say.

"Done," said Astoria.

The next few weeks wrought change in every area of Iere's life.

The aurors and healers concluded they had done everything they could for Daphne and learned everything they could learn about the effects of the 'obsidio' variation of petrificus totalis. The obsidian Daphne was released to the family. Astoria was formally designated Iere's guardian and signed for the obsidian Daphne, which was taken to Owl Cottage and placed near a living room window with a view of the barn, the chickens, ducks and one solitary goose.

"Think she's happy there?" asked Astoria.

Iere closed her eyes and felt.

"She is, for now," Iere said.

Astoria flinched.

"Sorry," she said. "I have to remember those aren't just rhetorical questions for you."

Iere laughed a fairly loud laugh. It sounded to Astoria as if Iere found her comment both true and genuinely funny. It was good to hear Iere laugh again.

"Well, then, let me know if she tells you she'd like a change of scene," said Astoria, holding her wand up and wiggling it between her fingers.

Iere received two messages from the goblins of Gringotts bank in the months just after Daphne was killed.

The first was a letter of sympathy, not a card, with a hand-written note from the director and one from Daphne's account manager. The second arrived after a decent interval. It too was from the account manager, inviting her to come by Gringotts at her convenience along with her guardian. Gringotts had information Iere would need in the closing out of Daphne's earthly affairs.

Iere tried not to think about it but tidying up Daphne's final arrangements did have to be done. She passed the note along to Astoria and asked for her counsel.

"Iere, first of all, I am flattered that you think me up to the task," said Astoria. "I wasn't the family business mind. I rather think your mother would have grown into that. What's done is done, though, so we'll cope. I'll be happy to go with you. Would you like your Uncle Draco to come along?"

"I wondered if Mr. Potter would be acceptable?" asked Iere. "He had his taxi business for years. I think he is doing something with some partners now. I always saw piles of letters that looked like business, whenever we were over there."

Astoria was aware Harry was dabbling in something. She didn't know if it was serious or a vanity project or a hobby. Any of those could have given him a much more sophisticated appreciation of the fine points than Astoria possessed.

"Let's ask him and see," said Astoria. "All he can do is turn us down if he doesn't want to do it."

Harry did indeed have much more insight into contemporary business than Astoria. On the day of their appointment at Gringotts, Harry took Albus and Lily to the Burrow so he could focus on reports and ledgers.

Daphne had put together a respectable estate for a short-lived single mother. Iere had capital sufficient to earn her an allowance. She didn't have housing costs since she lived at Owl Cottage. Astoria wasn't going to charge her for meals. Harry wanted to bring up education when the time was right. Iere was thirteen, going on fourteen and would need to think about a job or profession at some point. She wouldn't be qualifying as a witch so Harry thought a course of study leading to a muggle diploma or certification might be a good use of her time.

Then Anvil brought out a portfolio bulging with parchment. He opened the flap and ruffled a few pages with his thumb before turning and addressing Iere.

"Miss Greengrass, did you ever speak to anyone from your father's family about the Nott succession?"