I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.
Tom was scared. Frightened, even, of those standing, hovering over him as he and his friends attempted to reprimand the couple. Their height, which suggested their children would not be vertically challenged, had them looking down upon everyone in the group, even Trip and Ronald, the tallest of those here. Their eyes like pools of water and ice, freezing and cruel.
Aurora and William Greengrass, who had been well known for their vicious fight against the light. That's not to say they had joined the Dark, but many believed that had their family obligations not required they stay away from Voldemort, their joining of his ranks would have been immediate. Far from terrible people, not blood-purists, rapists, murderers or the like, no they simply loved destruction and fear. Sadists if there ever were a pair, but refused to kill.
Torture, however, was not off the table. They had ever touched a hair on their daughters, but said females were awoken many a night by screams from Muggles. Thus, this led to the exclusion of Hermione and introduction of Draco into the visiting group, not wanting to take any chances, and only including the pure and half bloods. Just in case.
'Are you telling me, that we should just let Mr Potter attack our daughter, and force her to do things she is not ready to do!?' Aurora looked ready to explode, but Draco cut her off.
'Ma'am! Lord Potter, is the most responsible teenager I've ever met. He already avoided touching her before your little 'Discussion', and now he won't even hold her hand! Daphne wants to move things forward, but because of your threat, he's so scared he is indirectly hurting her!' Of course, William was deaf to everything but that Harry was hurting his daughter.
'He is hurting her! Come along, Honey, it seems we must deal with Mr Potter.' He moved to leave, but Daphne suddenly stepped up, and slapped the man. Hard.
'ARE YOU DEAF!? IT IS BECAUSE OF YOU! THE MAIN REASON HE WON'T GO ANYWHERE NEAR ME IS BECAUSE YOU THREATENED HIM WITH CASTRATION OR DEATH IF HE DID! SO YOU WILL GO, YOU WILL SEE LORD POTTER, BUT YOU WILL APOLOGIZE, TELL HIM YOU WON'T DO ANYTHING, AND THEN KEEP YOUR NOSES OUT OF MY BUSINESS FORM NOW ON! I ORDER YOU AS HEIRESS GREENGRASS!' She stopped, breathing deeply with a hard glare as WIlliam held his cheek, stunned.
Eventually, they got over themselves, and attempted to reason with her, but the girl pulled out her wand, along with Flitwick, as they guided her parents to the floo. Giving them the address, they left to the Hospital wing, with Trip lingering back a moment. The architecture in the manor was superb, he had to admit as much.
It was primarily decorated in green and dark wood, and while he didn't have access to any more than the sitting room, he suspected the rest matched. The floor was inlaid with planks, which had small silver specks occasionally flitting through, clearly animated. The furniture, from what he had felt, was a soft cotton that was deceptively old. The fireplace had Sapele over it, curling to form a shelf on which several pictures stood, one of each girl as a child, one of them as a family, and one of Daphne's Grandparents, each couple getting one. The fire was purple, and he couldn't tell whether it was magical or just extremely hot.
The paintings flitted from canvas to canvas, attempting to get a good look at the stranger, and he spotted some notable figures. Alexander Greengrass, one of the best Potioneers of the Nineteenth Century, Faora Greengrass, renowned duelist, and, oddly, someone he didn't recognize, yet still familiar. They weren't a Greengrass, Astoria had decided, when none got her references, to show her entire family tree. The entire presentation took several hours and he just about passed out by the end.
'Excuse me, who are you?' The figure looked at him oddly, before replying confidently.
'I am, of course, Charlus Potter. Renowned Duelist, Charms Master and Alchemist Extraordinaire. And you are?' He said, a tone of arrogance touching his voice.
'I am Trip Fawley, Heir to Houses Fawley and Shafiq. If I may, I believe I know your Grandson, Hadrian, why didn't you reveal yourselves to us earlier?' Charlus raised a painted eyebrow.
'You would show yourself to someone you just met, especially in such a vulnerable state? I am not a fool. But yes, my Grandson is Hadrian. How do you know him? He is just a child.' The man responded, and Trip thought for a moment agreeing.
'I suppose I wouldn't. But Hadrian is already 13, Milord, in Hogwarts with myself and our friends. How did you end up here?' At the man's gasp of shock, all the boy could do was stare questioningly.
'I was brought here by the Greengrass's, on the night my son was murdered. They claimed they would return me to the last of my family, but just hung me here like a trophy. I tell you, they are unbearable people. Well, since you're here, and know my Grandson, get me down and bring me to him. Chop Chop! I want to see him!' He clapped his hands, and Trip, with creased eyebrows and tightened lips, brought him down, touched the shrinking rune, and pocketed the canvas, hoping WIlliam and Aurora would not notice.
Stepping into the Floo, which had an extra large fireplace specifically for people, he called out Hogwarts Hospital Wing, and came out the other side after an unpleasant journey. Thankfully after practicing under his Father's watchful eye for several hours, he'd mastered the landing, and it didn't feel quite so terrible any more. Quickly jogging over to Harry's bed, which had the curtains pulled and Draconus, Vincent and Gregory standing guard, who had chosen to still protect Draconus, he stopped in front of them.
'Where are the rest?
'In class, I had potions and Severus gave me the day off, so I could help Harry.' Nodding, Trip waited as well, until finally the Elder Greengrasses, along with Daphne whose cheeks were tinged with pink and was huffing slightly, stepped outside the curtains.
William and Aurora quickly stepped away, as Daphne relayed the conversation to Draconus and Trip, while Crabbe and Goyle opened the curtains to Harry's thanks. While dumb as a doorknob, they were useful, and surprisingly resourceful. Crabbe loved Magical Creatures, and secretly was one of Hagrid's favourites, though nobody could beat Harry's literal animal magnetism, which had drawn Hagrid to him like a moth to flame. The Half-Giant's yells of amazement were audible, even from the Wing.
Harry was perfectly relaxed in his bed. Even despite the plaque Pomfrey had chosen to put up in her humour, yet also disappointment, couldn't bring him down. His book on different healing techniques given to him by the matron looked interesting, and he thought it might be a promising career. But before he could look into it more, or call Pomfrey to ask questions, the people he wanted to see the absolute least appeared.
'What do you want?' He asked gruffly, not in the mood to deal with them. Daphne appeared, and he kept his eyes straight on those he considered his enemies.
'To apologise. Daphne has made us see the error of our ways, and how our words might have been misinterpreted. We only meant to say that we would do such things if you tried to push her past what she wanted.' Daphne crossed her arms. They rolled their eyes. 'And we wouldn't injure you seriously, we have no doubt she would beat us to it, simply find some way in revenge.' While this was somewhat reasonable, Harry was also pissed. They needed to be forced into it, and didn't even have the audacity to pretend. There was a clear line between being protective of your daughter, and being violent at your future son-in-law.
'While I do appreciate the apology, I dislike that you needed to be forced into it simply because your daughter wanted to be more physical, and you didn't have the foresight to see how it affected her. Please leave, before I lose my temper. And if you need confirmation on how much that would hurt, just look at why i'm in here. A quick trip to Hogsmeade Clearing will tell you all you need to know.' Looking properly chastised, and also slightly curious, they left, and he could clearly make out their calls for the Three Broomsticks. Meanwhile, Daphne left, whom he chose to ignore.
It's not that he was especially angry at the girl, she didn't deserve that, but he was not in the mood for an argument, which anything they tried to talk about would dissolve into. At this point, she was clearly pushing him for some sort of physical relationship, which while not unsurprising considering she was likely in the last throes of puberty, and as an Heiress never touched herself in her life, he thought quite selfish of her. Going to her parents, while he was very grateful, was a clear move to eliminate any excuses he could come up with. Thankfully, Trip came in with a look of excitement plain on his face, pulling him from his thoughts.
'Harry, you won't believe what I got at Greengrass Manor! I would have wondered why Daphne didn't give it to you before, but then I realised that was the Adults sitting room, which she wouldn't have been allowed into until she was Seventeen, at which point they could claim they were keeping it safe for you, though it was clear it was just going to be leverage, but-' He said, pausing, as Harry looked on, puzzled.
'What the bloody hell are you on about?"
'Oh, right.' Then pulled out a portrait, enlarging it, to Harry's gasp. He knew that face, it was in the family grimoire and tree. It was his Grandfather.
'Ahh, and there he is! Hadrian Potter, My Grandson! Oh how I've been waiting to see you! My, you really have become quite the looker. Though Dorea would be truly smug about it, you've got so many of her features. Only the trademark Potter hair and chiseled jaw are mine. Speaking of which, where is she? I'm assuming still in the Potter vault?' He smirked, eerily similar to his own, as the painting puffed out his chest, deflated a bit and looked slightly glum all in one swift motion, as Harry just looked him over.
Oddly, he had Chestnut brown hair, even though people said James looked a lot like his father, and so Harry like him. Yet his cheekbones weren't quite as aristocratic, nor his eyes as sharp. But he was right- The messy hair, strong jaw and lean body type were just like his own, only Charlus had more muscle, likely from fighting in the Grindelwald war. Harry did note the man's eyes were a deep brown, much like Hermione's, which did match the description others gave of his father.
'Well, as soon as I get out of here, perhaps I can go get her?' The Man's eyes widened, and he caught a grey streak running slightly above his ears.
'No no no no no, no need. I'm sure she can wait a bit, and I do enjoy sitting, it's just about all I can do. Perhaps you could paint me some books?' His raised eyebrow and sudden mood shifts confused him, and questioned whether the man might be bipolar.
'Sure. Anyways, I could try. I'm getting better at drawing because of Ancient Runes, but I don't know how much that will transfer over to painting. Perhaps you should leave the frame until I finish. Maybe I could even make you a second canvas.' Charlus nodded, as he noticed the Ravenclaw crest on his chest.
'Ahh, very good! Ravenclaw! I was a Slytherin myself, and Dorea Gryffindor! Absolutely stunned everybody, a Black in Gryffindor! What a tragedy.' Now he was just confused.
'But aren't Potters traditionally Gryffindor?'
'Oh, we may have spawned the line boy, but we have been Slytherins and Ravenclaws far more, and Hufflepuffs just as much. The same applies to all the Old Houses, though Dorea was accepted after some time. Why, I laughed my arse off when we revealed we were Dating! Of course, leaving out the fact we were betrothed,' Now, Harry grew visibly red, as he remembered what had been signed several years past.
'Speaking of which, why did you put me into one, and with the Greengrasses?' Harry said, a tinge of ice entering his voice as Charlus guped.
'Well, you see, Kieran and Leto were good people, it was their son that was messed up. I assumed their child would die in the war, certainly reckless enough for it, and we wanted to protect our lines from forced marriage, or Honour killing. We thought you would be able to grow up close, but we would keep you separate often, as to allow romantic feelings to be born. Unfortunately, that didn't work out. But, you have been attempting something while you can, yes?' Harry nodded, and the man sighed, suddenly looking weary.
'Dorea tried to push me into it faster than I wanted, and it caused us strife later on. I do hope yours isn't like that. There is a reason your father took so long to date your mother. I assume others haven't given you the entire story?' He shook his head.
'Only that he was in love with her since first year, and that she only accepted Seventh, and they fell in love afterwards.' The man laughed, a sad, distraught one though.
'Sentimental drivel, and overly romanticized in favour of the stories at the time. Lightly sexist, considering the real story. Also, attempting to cover their own arses' He took a deep breath, and Harry leaned in, as Charlus continued, though Harry lightly noted that Erebus was now lying at his feet, looking up with sad eyes at the painting.
'While both in Gryffindor, they barely said a word until Fourth year. Then, sparks flew. But, as in all Potter men, we are not the easy ones. Things grew steadily, up until their sixth. James wrote to me, saying he had broken up with Lily. Being the man of action I was, I immediately called the Headmaster, and arranged a meeting with my son. When I arrived, he was crying.' He paused, taking a sip of water from a painted cup the boy hadn't seen before.
When he continued, there was a painful tone to his voice. 'They had gotten drunk, and your mother pushed him a bit too far. So he left their date early, after ensuring she made it to bed, and went to sleep. By the next morning, everyone hated him. As it turned out, your mother's friends Liliana McKinnon, and Mary MacDougal, had spread the rumour he was the one to push it too far. While Lily tried to apologise, he had none of it. His trust had been slighted, and as you know, Potter Trust is as vulnerable as-' He had to break in here.
'Their Ego.' While Charlus looked disappointed at the inappropriate slip-in, a smirk grew as the man continued.
'So he broke it off with her, and the rumours grew. Lily, Severus, and Alie tried to end them, as Sirius, Remus, and Peter tried to comfort him, but it never worked. He was practically begging to leave by then, but I didn't let him.' Harry attempted to interject, the man continued before he could. 'I ordered everyone in the Great Hall that Lunch to quiet, and told them the truth. They looked ashamed, but it never fixed James's attitude. He refused to forgive any, and only kept those he knew hadn't slighted him close. In the end, he forgave your mother, and by their Seventh Year they became a couple once more.'
'Why are Potter Men, apparently, so scared of intimacy?' It was the Golden question, the one that answered why he felt, somewhat irrationally, angry at Daphne.
'No one really knows, perhaps we are simply more sensitive, perhaps it was an old attempt to prevent us breeding that has been watered down, what I do know is that we can only do so on our own. From what I've overheard of your upbringing and their threats, I am amazed you even forgave the girl, despite it not being her fault. But it is good, you can move on from this. Learn from it, as you may just need more wives, if she's unwilling to produce the children necessary for more than one.' He winked, and Harry shivered at the idea.
'Do you really not know? I would have thought it might be in the grimoire.'
'It's difficult to say. My own theory is that once, as a result of intimacy with someone, the Potters lost our fortune. I had to regain it, you see, it was a measly few thousand galleons when I gained my Lordship, and I invested. As a result, an ancestor cursed his own line with a refusal for anything sexual until we are completely ready, which is pushed back significantly farther as an indirect result. It's very complicated, though. I do imagine it would explain the small, scribbled curse on the front page that I once tested.' He covered his mouth, but looked resigned. After all, Charlus had long since done his research. Of course he knew the truth. What it was, just didn't want to put that pressure on his grandson.
'Yes, I saw that. What did it do?'
'I let the man go, and when he returned home, his wife attempted to kiss but he pushed her back, confused and fearful. Eventually I found the counter-curse and fixed my mistake, but it is what I built my theory on. It could also simply be that they wrote down what they were hit with. Unable to counter it, as Blood Curse knowledge only became big a few hundred years ago, they hoped their descendants would find the fix. But as we quickly discovered, once Blood Curses go past the second generation, they will only disappear after One Hundred Generations. Speaking of which, this is the One Hundredth for the Greengrasses own.' He finally caught his breath, as Harry was pensive for a moment.
'But Blood Curses usually fluctuate in who they affect, at least in later stages. How many has it been since?'
'From my Research, you should be the last. It might have been an especially potent one that cost the caster his life. It won't prevent it's disappearance at One Hundred, but it will make sure to be active and powerful in every single one. And if it was only focused on the males, rather than both genders, it would even still be more effective. Really, the only thing we know is it there might be a Blood Curse. At least, we do now.' Harry agreed, and they moved off less depressing topics.
But in the back of his head he knew it was bullshite. While there were Blood Curses that could affect behaviour, they'd been lost in the Troll War, after the Black Family had gotten pissed at an attempt on their line. It was pretty much entirely a result of his childhood and her parents. Magic could solve a lot, but in the end the psychological damages left on his psyche would take sometime to dissipate, even if the immediate results were rid of. James was likely just his fathers son, was fed this story and took it to heart. At least he knew his parents truly did love each other.
At that point, he would just have to get over himself and his social awkwardness, but with a bit of therapy and assistance from Dumbledore, some sprinkle of Gryffindor courage, that could be dealt with easily. Magic was King for a reason.
Harry suddenly grabbed Daphne's arm from the cupboard he was in, and sat her down. She peered up at him with curiosity, and he sat down in front of her. While her slitty hands showed her nervousness, she also clearly expected this, as she was not surprised whatsoever by the fact he'd pulled her in here.
'Look, Daphne, What I'm about to say is going to be hard to hear, but I need you to listen, ok?' She nodded. 'Alright, I was beaten by my relatives' She frowned.
'Well, if you didn't want a physical relationship, you could have just said so, then make up some half-cocked story! My sister was beaten, dammit!' She made to get up, but Harry pulled her back down.
'I knew you'd say that, so here is my wand. Use legilimency, look into my memories. I genuinely want to make you happy, but with my upbringing, I don't want you to get your hopes up.' She frowned, but acquiesced, motioning for him to sit down
They dived into his mind, and she cane out crying, hugging him. He simply patted her back awkwardly, but eventually leaned into it and reveled in the warmth she produced. Eventually he pulled away, holding her at arms length and kissed her cheek.
Daphne smiled, he smirked, and she left as he put the portrait away and headed to Dumbledore's office. No time like the present. Especially when what you were trying to fix was keeping you from doing anything physical whatsoever with a beautiful girl. Hey, he is Thirteen now, and puberty's a bitch.
Dumlbedore's office was sparse, and as he walked in, he realised why. In the middle, stood a comfy looking chair, with one of those couches found in a Therapist's office, the Eccentric Old Man writing something down on a notepad. Perhaps he did know everything that happened in these hallowed halls.
'I assume you know why i'm here?' He laid down on the brown seat, getting comfortable.
'Indeed Mr Potter. Now, if you would open your mind, I can assist you in your acceptance and move on from your feelings. Magic is a truly wonderful thing.' He lowered his Occlumency Barriers and guided the Headmaster to the Dursley room, buried inside the Dungeons. Slowly in his mind, but merely a second in reality, they reviewed every single terrible memory one by one.
While painful for both, it truly, truly helped. Dumbledore was able to see the hardships he'd gone through, and appreciate the young man had come out alive and well, and Harry watched each one with a hard face. It hurt inside, but he learned that really, these were just downright horrible people, and someone like Daphne, or his friends, anybody else really, didn't deserve to get put in their category.
While everything felt jokingly short, and in the Muggle world nothing would have been done, for Harry it was like a veil lifted, a weight from his shoulders. Finally, he could move on from the pain and hatred those evil people had tried to instill in him. While some could never go away, perhaps this was his guide to moving on, to getting a new family. A real one. The first step, and when he was Fifteen, he'd be completely free.
Perhaps, he could live a bright future. One where he could hug his children and 'love' his wife. It was his heart's desire, after all.
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