Behind the Mask Chapter 2
Harry pushed open the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
The house hadn't improved since he'd last seen it, despite all the time the Weasleys had spent cleaning it, and he was ashamed for Daphne to see it in its current state.
"It was empty for years while my godfather was in Azkaban," he offered lamely.
She nodded. "But the bones are good. A Georgian townhouse, right in London! Places such as this, once they're restored, are worth millions of pounds, you know. We can fix it to suit us."
"We?" Harry gaped.
"Of course! Your inheritance makes things work for us, Potter! I was in despair trying to think of a way, but this makes everything easier."
"Work for us?"
She scrunched up her pert little nose. "Potter, don't repeat everything I say. Shocking bad habit!"
"But I don't understand! I don't think we've so much as spoken to one another until now, Greengrass. How did we become 'us'?"
Daphne studied him carefully. "I suppose it happened when you came back from the third task, and said the Dark Lord was back. Not that I hadn't thought of it before, because of course I had, but until then I figured it was hopeless because you were too much under Dumbledore's influence. So I decided…"
"Wait!" Harry interrupted. "You're against Dumbledore?"
"Not really against him," Daphne explained. "I mean, I believe he means well. But he always, always thinks he knows best!"
Harry nodded thoughtfully. He had noticed that about Dumbledore.
"My family isn't dark, Potter," said Daphne sternly. "Greengrasses have always been neutral."
Harry shook his head. "You really think Voldemort will accept that?"
"Well, no. Naturally I don't," Daphne said to his surprise. "He has already started making demands."
Harry was baffled.
She seemed to take pity on him. "It's like this, Potter. You and I are perfectly suited…"
"We are?"
"Yes," she responded sternly. "Now don't interrupt. As I was saying, quite some time ago I realized we would make an ideal couple, but the difficulty is that everyone knows the Potters practically worshipped Dumbledore! And there is no way that man could win a war. Why, he won't even authorize lethal force! But now, your Black inheritance moves you into the grey area, away from his influence, so…"
"Hold on!" Harry interrupted despite being warned not to. "Sirius supported Dumbledore and the Light!"
"It doesn't matter." Daphne was unmoved. "The House of Black has such a dark reputation that it's bound to make an impact. Which means, you can now be my boyfriend, and everything will be fine!"
Before a stunned Harry could think of a reply, Kreacher popped into view.
"Kreacher!" Harry was glad of the diversion. "Why aren't you in Hogwarts?"
"Kreacher felt the wards shift," the old elf croaked. "Kreacher had to return to see who is taking control."
"Oh, good, you have a house elf!" Daphne enthused. "I've got one too."
Kreacher looked interested, and his sullen expression lightened.
"My sister and I were each gifted with an elf on our eleventh birthday," Daphne informed them. "It's meant to be part of our dowry when we marry. Mine is named Dilly. You'll have to key her into the wards, so she can help Kreacher clean up."
"I sent Kreacher to Hogwarts," objected Harry.
"Hogwarts has lots of elves, he's better off staying here." Daphne fairly danced down the hall to the kitchen. "What nice large rooms! I think I'm going to like it here."
With her help, and advice from Kreacher, Harry found himself assuming control of the wards, and then closing off the floo.
"There!" Daphne dusted off her hands. "Now you're set. That is, after we buy some new clothes for you."
"Why do I need new clothes?"
She gave him a pitying look. "Seriously, Potter? It's because you don't have any that are fit to wear! Now, we can pick up the basics today, and add more tomorrow."
"But Dumbledore…"
"Can't get in here," Daphne concluded.
His newly acquired girlfriend was a whirlwind.
She whisked him into and out of Harrod's, laden with more packages than he'd seen at one time.
"We can shop at Twilfett & Tatting tomorrow," Daphne decided. "It's getting late…I really should get home, Potter."
She said it almost reproachfully, as if it was his fault they'd been gone for much of the day.
Harry thought of a complaint he could with justice make. "If you're my girlfriend now, shouldn't you call me Harry?"
She studied him thoughtfully. "I suppose. Very well, you may call me Daphne."
Much to his surprise, Harry slept very well that night, in the room at the top of the house that had belonged to Sirius.
He did dream about his godfather, but it wasn't the horrible nightmare where Sirius had fallen through the veil. Instead, it was the moment when Sirius, rather shyly and totally unnecessarily, asked Harry if he would like to live with him. That memory always filled him with joy.
Still smiling, Harry dressed and made his way down to the kitchen…
And almost fell over from shock.
Sitting at the kitchen table was Daphne Greengrass, sipping tea and reading the newspaper.
"What are you doing here!" Harry gasped.
"Waiting for you," she replied calmly. "We want to get to Diagon Alley before it gets crowded, don't we?"
Harry remembered something. "By now, the Order of the Phoenix has figured out I am missing."
Daphne nodded.
Harry persisted. "They'll be scouring Diagon Alley, looking for me."
"You can wear a glamor," Daphne pointed out. "We won't be there long. Have some breakfast!"
Harry obeyed. It seemed easier to go along with it. An hour later he was standing on a pedestal in Twilfitt and Tatting's, getting measured for what he considered an incredible number of dress robes.
Daphne was unmoved. "You'll need to look the part, if you are to head three Houses."
"Three?" Harry was startled.
"Potter, Black, and Greengrass," she supplied patiently. "Technically I will head Greengrass, but you will need to vote the seat someday."
Harry wondered how she had gone from a casual acquaintance to his girlfriend to his wife in twenty-four hours, but decided it was not worth quibbling about. She would probably just say it was obvious or something like that.
He ended up with five sets of formal robes, all in colors Daphne had selected.
"Can we get an ice cream?" Harry asked wearily, once their purchases had been packaged.
Daphne considered. "I suppose."
It was not until they were seated in a back booth at Fortescue's, delving into ice cream, that Harry ventured to ask. "What did you mean, when you said I must vote the Greengrass seat?"
"My uncle has it now," she explained. "But he holds it in proxy. Since I am the Greengrass heiress, it will pass to my husband. So you will have it, unless…" she fixed him with a stern eye, "…you prove a less than satisfactory boyfriend."
Harry chose to disregard the implicit threat. "Why can't you vote it yourself?"
"That only happens if no adult male is available. Since my father had a younger brother, he has it until I marry."
"That seems unfair," Harry frowned.
"That's the way it works, in the wizarding world. The Wizengamot is mired in tradition."
"We'll make changes anyway," Harry declared.
Daphne regarded him fondly. "And that, Harry, is why you will most likely prove a very satisfactory boyfriend."