Vignette 10: Career Advice II
AN: Goes without saying, but this is a sequel to the previous chapter (Career Advice).
This chapter is dedicated to CaskettFan5, another frequent reviewer. They've also written some HP/DG stories, in case you want to check them out.
It was on a warm Tuesday night during the August after the Final Battle that Harry and Daphne took a consequential walk alongside the River Thames in London. They were supposed to meet up for dinner but Harry had gotten held up in the Ministry, so Daphne had eaten at home and Harry had grabbed a falafel wrap from a streetcart on his way to see her. It was a beautiful night, with couples and families ambling around on the riverwalk and the gentle hum of traffic and sloshing of water as boats cleaved through the river providing a soundtrack for the unlikely pair.
"You're in a foul mood," noted Daphne after a few failed attempts at drawing Harry into conversation.
Harry grunted and took another bite of his falafel wrap.
"Care to talk about it?" she asked, steering him away from the muggles. They went to stand in a little alcove next to the railing overlooking the river. A low full moon hung over the water, reflecting its image on its waves. The night was a clear and cloudless but, between the moon and the light of London itself, there were no stars visible in the night sky. A street vendor called, asking if they wanted a bottle of water, and Daphne brushed him away, casting a mild notice-me-not charm.
"It's the Ministry," said Harry, taking the last bite of his wrap and crumpling up the foil wrapper. "I went there again, trying to get them to release the Potter Wizengamot seat to me…"
Instantly, Daphne became alert. "And what?" she asked, her piercing blue eyes pinning him against the railing.
"Well, apparently, my dad never claimed the Potter seat, and it's been more than 25 years since Grandpa Charlus died."
"Ah," said Daphne. Wizengamot seats unclaimed for more than 25 years got relinquished to the Ministry, who would then choose an appropriate family to gift the seat to. Ostensibly, it was to keep the Wizengamot from getting too empty, but in reality it meant the seat was up for sale for whoever could contribute the most to Ministry coffers.
"If only Dumbledore had told me," whispered Harry fiercely. "The claim expired two years ago, he could have taken me any time while I was at Hogwarts…"
"What of the Black seat," asked Daphne, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. The Potter seat was a lost cause.
"Passed down by blood," said Harry gloomily, looking out at the river. A party boat full of young adults yelling obnoxiously chugged under them. "I get the rest of the Black estate though."
"Didn't you have a claim through your Black grandmother?"
Harry shook his head. "It got trumped by Narcissa Malfoy's claim through her Black father. She showed up at the hearing with an army of lawyers."
Daphne winced. "Bold move, obstructing you like that…" she said, tapping her lip thoughtfully. "Especially while they're still pariahs in the Wizarding World. If you leaked it to the Prophet…"
"It would undo everything we're trying to do to bring the country together," said Harry, waving his hand dismissively at the idea. "You know, Narcissa actually offered me the Black seat. She said I could be her regent, in exchange for the rest of the Black inheritance."
"And you refused, I presume?"
"Of course," said Harry, and Daphne breathed a sigh of relief. "It's not like I could have much of an agenda from Narcissa Malfoy's seat and I'd be subject to her whims."
"Good man," murmured Daphne. She huddled closer to him, thinking.
"I can always go talk to Robards again," said Harry after a while. "The rookie class is only a few weeks in…"
"That won't be necessary," said Daphne distantly.
"I don't have any other options, Daph… the Potter seat is already gone, the Black seat has been signed off to Narcissa…"
"Well then," said Daphne primly. "You'll just have to take the Greengrass seat then, won't you?"
Harry did a doubletake. "What? Do you mean as a regent?"
Daphne shook her head. "No, you would just open yourself to the same accusations as with Narcissa, given my father's... business dealings. It's better for you to have a seat that's your own. We can't afford any weakness."
"You can't just give me your seat, Daphne" said Harry, running his hands through his hair. "It has to go through the Ministry, I'd have to bid for it…"
"Not if you're my husband."
There was silence. The sounds of the riverwalk that had blended so seamlessly into the background became deafening. Blue eyes met green and Harry exhaled.
"We're not even engaged," he said softly.
Daphne, to her credit, didn't waver.
"Well then," she whispered, biting her lip, "you had better do something about that, hadn't you?"
"You're sure?" he asked, reaching forward to touch her cheek.
She nodded, only the slightest tremor of her lower lip betraying her uncertainty.
And then, right there on that riverwalk on that Tuesday night during the August after the Final Battle, surrounded by couples and families and to the sound of traffic and boats on the River Thames, Harry Potter got down on one knee in front of Daphne Greengrass.
The rest, as they say, is history.
AN: I think when I offered a sequel, some people expected a larger aftermath story? I only had this small vignette in mind. I hope it's still to your liking. Please review and let me know what you think. Happy New Year to all of you!