Ashes in your Mouth

Chapter Seven: Yule of Horror.

Where there are things much worse than watching Draco Malfoy snog someone.

It nearly Christmas when Harry got an owl, inviting Harry Potter-Black, Black of Black to the wedding of Draco Vilnius Malfoy and Astoria May Greengrass, at Malfoy Manor, on the Saturday before Yule. The twenty-first.

Harry took the carriages from Hogwarts to the train station, and just apparated back to Black Manor.

Having saved eight hours, he got out the wedding-going robes, tidy shoes, and used the time he'd saved, all two days, to get 'What Broomstick' magazine and read it.

Well, and get hammered on firewhiskey and pass out. Just for variety. And no risk of nightmares.

Harry looked over at Greengrass… the one that wasn't marrying Draco, and the diadem she was wearing glittered in the candle-light. Harry's brain froze somehow, and all he could see was the glittering gem.

Something happened, and Harry snapped out of it.

He was still sitting with the table with the rest of the heads of the Sacred Twenty-eight, but Bole Smith had poked him gently "Black, you seemed lost in thought" he said politely.

"Just something on my mind" said Harry, saying the first thing that came into his head, and for some reason Smith smiled "Of course" he said.

George set off a huge fireworks display when Malfoy kissed Greengrass. Harry resisted the urge to groan in disgust, and concentrated on thinking about the profits Weasley's Wizarding wheezes would be making. Galleons. Piles of shiny gold.

Bole asked him a question, and he didn't know what the question was.

"Sorry" said Harry "I was distracted."

Bole, for some reason looked amused by that, and repeated the question "So, are you going to join the wizengamot?"

"Erm" said Harry "I've decided to get NEWTs, then maybe back to the Auror office." said Harry.

Bole looked surprised by that "We thought you'd use the Potter seat once you turned twenty-one" said Bole.

Harry took a breath "Um, no" said Harry. "Doesn't seem like I'll have time. There are things I have to do."

Bole nodded. Music started from somewhere.

Draco Malfoy started dancing with Astoria - Malfoy now. The git looked oddly pleased. Astoria looked so happy it was hard for Harry to imagine why. The very idea of any human being marrying Malfoy filled him with nausea.

A bit later, the Greengrass parents started dancing. The father was tall, dark and had a pointy goatee, and his wife, who was had light brown hair hung on her husband's arm and looked very happy. Harry stopped looking at all the happy people. Daphne Greengrass was looking out over the grounds, where a few bits of fireworks were still playfully spinning. The fireworks finished, and Daphne Greengrass turned back to the room, and looked slightly happy. Harry couldn't help smiling briefly; she was a totally chronic fireworks fan. Daphne Greengrass's smile faded and she glared at Harry. Harry shrugged, and Daphne Greengrass headed across the room.

"Potter" she said crossly, standing behind the table Harry was seated at.

"I'm here as Black, heiress Greengrass" said Harry, not very politely.

"Well, get up then?" asked Greengrass.

"What?" asked Harry.

Bole spoke up "I believe young Daphne wants you to dance." and smiled smugly.

"I don't want to dance with that massive egotist" said Daphne. "I wanted to know why he smirked at me."

"You enjoyed the fireworks, and we both know you like fireworks" said Harry. "That's all."

"Oh" said Daphne Greengrass "Get up then."

Harry got up and headed to the dance-floor and Daphne took his arm, and he put his hand on her hip and … they danced. She was actually a very good dancer, thought Harry.

"You don't dance that well really" said Daphne, frowning.

"Not everyone's as good as you" admitted Harry, and by accident, he felt the... the muscularity of Daphne's body as she tried to move a different way to Harry suddenly. His throat suddenly felt dry, and he looked up, catching a glint of light from her tiara one of the dangling gems, and that thing happened again.

Harry came to, being pushed across the dance floor by Greengrass, his feet stumbling. He blinked.

"Are you drunk?" whispered Daphne Greengrass.

"Er, no" said Harry groggily.

"Drugged?" asked Daphne.

"I'll say privately" said Harry.

"No, I'm not going off with you so you can ravage me" said Daphne quietly.

"I had treatment for a thing and the side-effect is fuges" said Harry quietly, frowning with annoyance.

Daphne pulled Harry into motion, and she cast some sort of privacy spell.

"What?" she asked, holding his upper arm rather firmly.

"I still couldn't sleep properly from nightmares from the war, the last treatment, the side-effect is fuges, fixating on shiny things and zoning out." said Harry.

"Nightmares? But you're Harry Potter." said Daphne, looking surprised "You... won."

"It makes very little difference to many things." said Harry acerbically.

"Will the fuges stop?" asked Daphne.

"After several weeks. No brooms for a bit." said Harry smiling wryly.

"Your Firebolt" said Daphne.

"Lost in the war." said Harry.

"You should get another one, it was brilliant" said Daphne enthusiastically.

"Unlikely" said Harry "A broom that expensive seems a bit frivolous these days."

"How much was it anyway?" asked Daphne.

"Forty thousand galleons" said Harry "It was a very early one." Daphne looked at Harry glassily "That's – " she said haltingly "An irresponsible sum." She narrowed her eyes at Harry "You're actually a mature adult." she said accusingly.

"With a godson, and I spent a lot of time changing nappies." said Harry with a slight smile.

"Who?" asked Daphne.

"Edward Remus Lupin, heir of the house of Black" said Harry "His grandmother is Andromeda Tonks née Black, and Teddy's a metamorphmagus. A traditional Black family thing."

"Lupin?" asked Daphne Greengrass, who was still dancing with Harry. Daphne, he realised, smelt quite nice.

"Professor Lupin's son." said Harry "And no, he's not infected."

"You're being mature, responsible and going back to school. Why?" asked Daphne.

Harry shook his head "My aunt expected it." he said.

"And you're not drunk" said Daphne.

"That seems cured" said Harry brightly "It cost a lot to stay drunk so that's quite a good outcome."

"And you weren't staring at me before because you fancied me?" asked Daphne.

"Just amused by your fireworks obsession" said Harry lightly.

Daphne stiffened in Harry's arms "I'm not obsessed!" she said "I just like fireworks."

"Have you ever missed a Weasleys Wheezes display?" asked Harry.

"Only if they're on the same night" said Daphne. Harry laughed.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked tightly.

"Laughing with" said Harry quickly. "Your joy in fireworks is infectious."

Daphne blinked "Oh" she said "That's all right."

Harry found he was being held more closely and the dancing was okay, he supposed.

Eventually the music stopped and Harry could get back to his chair with the rest of the heads of houses.

Bole Smith said "Well it looked like you enjoyed that" rather smugly.

"It was all right" said Harry.

Harry flooed away when Mrs Greengrass thanked all the heads of houses for attending.

The manor was dark and cool, and Harry lit just his wand and walked up the stairs.

The reflections from the windows weren't exactly what was in the stairwell, and when he got into his bedroom, the reflections on the wardrobe and in the mirror were, well, there were clearly people there who were not in the room. It was just the elder wand being itself. All the hallows were cursed, but anyway. Harry went to bed and fell asleep quite easily.

He woke from an odd dream where the dance with Daphne Greengrass turned into snogging; made more alarming by the memory from his hand of Daphne's waist under his hand tensing, flexing, and the way she stiffened in indignation. His imagination stitched that all together but in a different way that ended in Harry needing to clean his pyjama trousers again. It was embarrassing, but nobody would ever know, and it had been fantastically pleasant, and not a bit like waking in a cold sweat, shuddering in fear.

Harry went to get breakfast, finding Kreacher actually working.

"Master" croaked Kreacher.

"Good morning Kreacher" said Harry.

"The house is very terrible at night, Master" said Kreacher.

"Is it?" asked Harry "I didn't notice. I can try to do something about it, I suppose. Maybe some curse-breakers?" he offered mildly.

"Master!" protested Kreacher "Master's cursed magic makes the manor a proper Black family residence."

Harry rolled his eyes. Crazy house elf.

Harry looked at the teapot. Which was hot. "Did you make tea?" asked Harry.

"Master made a lot of noise coming down" croaked Kreacher.

Harry had breakfast, even bacon. He felt momentarily sad, thinking how Hedwig would have liked some of the bacon.

Harry went shopping for Yule in Diagon alley after getting dressed.

He found Ron easily in Weasleys wheezes.

"Hi Ron, Hi George!" he said cheerfully.

Ron was serving someone and George was just refilling a shelf.

"The prodigal employee returns" said George.

"I was going to get some presents for people, but I can help out if you want." said Harry.

George nodded towards the back of the shop.

Harry went in and George came in "Yule fireworks exhibitions are going nuts. Feel up to setting one off?"

"Of course" said Harry "Miss it really."

"But your education is so important" said George in a vaguely Hermione-like put-on voice.

"Well, we're not all geniuses like you" said Harry.

"I heard" said George sarcastically, finding a clipboard "Davies place on Yule?"

"Uh, sure" said Harry "Teddy's too young to care about times and you lot won't care if I duck out."

"We could perhaps talk mum into having the party at your immense manor?" asked George.

"Oh please, I'd have to clean" said Harry casually. "I've only got Kreacher."

"I'll give you a hundred for it, seeing it's a holiday" said George.

"That's awfully generous" said Harry modestly.

"We hit Davies up for three hundred, so not really" said George "Now I don't have to apologise to mum."

Harry nodded "Oh" he said "But I will have to" he said, realising it.

"With a hundred galleons worth of profit" said George, and pointed to the crate.

"It's a fairly ordinary dragons, hippogfiffs and the usual, they want it out the back, as usual, and at night, remind them to fire sparks. Davis is a lawyer, and he's a teensy bit forgetful."

Harry nodded then his eyes narrowed "That's my lawyer" he said "Bastard's really expensive. Fifteen galleons a half hour."

"Is he any good?" asked George quite seriously.

"Well yeah" said Harry. "Still a prick."

Ron came into the back room "Harry, mate, where'd you go? You didn't come back on the Express?"

Harry sighed "I had a lot on yesterday, so I apparated."

"A lot on?" asked Ron.

Harry shook his head "Being the Black of Black meant going to a wedding yesterday, sitting next to Bole Smith, who's a probably a hundred and a tosser."

"That's Zach's grandad isn't it?" asked Ron.

"Exactly" said Harry. "So I had to watch the nuptials. And not vomit."

"Huh?" asked Ron.

"Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass" said Harry "Seeing ferret-face kissing a pretty girl is hard on a full stomach."

"Should have just put him in Azkaban" said George.

"Well, he um, helped me out, and after the war… I leaned on the Malfoys pretty hard." said Harry.

"Leaned on?" asked Ron.

"Harry is referring to the ancient art of taking bribes, young boy" said George.

"And I forced them to dob in some death eaters" said Harry brightly. "It was that or get more visits from angry Death Eaters themselves. They had no wands… you can figure out how that goes."

George frowned "Harry, surely their manor would protect them?"

"All those defences got dropped by the Auror office" said Harry "They were… exposed till they helped me."

"Crikey" said Ron "you say that like a real old-school pure-blood lord."

Harry smiled toothlessly "Being The Black" he said, thinking 'And The Slytherin ; by family standards I'm a huge softie.'

"So Harry, you need the pay in galleons ?" asked George "I'll go get it"

"No, you can put it in my vault, I've got four three two now" said Harry "Between the Malfoys and lawyers and stuff, I've got a vault again."

"A really low numbered one" said George "The Smith's have four four four. I didn't know anyone had vaults below that."

"Oh it's an old family heirloom" said Harry "And no, there wasn't any money in it."

"But I'm still banned" said Ron tensely.

"Hey, they kept my Potter vault and the Black vault" said Harry.

"But… that was – " said Ron, paling.

"Hence working two jobs, selling all the other property" said Harry.

"But that's all over right" said Ron "You went to Hogwarts"

"Aunt Andromeda inherited money, she's paying my bills for the year" said Harry. "I've got a tiny bit saved up, but the ministry tax the Black family for being ancient and noble." Ron frowned. So Harry explained "When the Ministry can't make the budget balance, they hit all the Ancient and noble families up for money. Hundreds every year."

"But – " said Ron "At that rate you'll never have any savings."

"Some Ron, I just need a few things to work out well, and one day, Teddy will inherit the manor and some sort of business or something. My share in Wheezes, I suppose. It's enough most years to keep the ministry paid off. And Andromeda will leave him a lot of money, so hopefully Teddy'll be able to put his feet up." said Harry cheerfully.

Ron looked indignant "But you're the man who won!" said Ron. "It's not fair."

"No it isn't Ron, but life's funny like that" said Harry, not thinking about Ginny gasping in ecstasy from hissing kisses, her thighs wrapped around his ears. Not thinking about that was very important. Or he'd have to rearrange his pants, for one thing.

Harry had flooed out of the Burrow to Wheeze-Central, made sure he looked like Kettle and took the portkey from the back of Weasley's Wheezes to Herefordshire.

It was a nasty experience, falling into snow, but the crate didn't fall on him. Harry levitated the crate and headed to the front gate, which was a white-painted wooden gate. He opened the gate, and headed inside, remembering to close the gate.

Harry was attacked by several white geese hiding in the snow before he got to the large box-like house. They hissed and bit at him. Harry lowered the crate, cast a shield, and lifted the crate again.

Harry got to the house and a brown haired witch came out "Who are you?" they asked.

"Kettle from Weasley's wizarding wheezes with the fireworks" said Harry, pulling out his id-sheet and handing it over. They checked it and lowered their wand.

"Grack, Glick, back to the gate!" she said, and the geese stopped hissing at Harry and honked, and waddled off like… attack dogs. 'Attack geese' Harry corrected himself.

"Follow me around to the back" said the witch, who Harry vaguely recognised.

Harry walked along following the robed witch, who said "So you got goosed" casually.

Harry rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, they reached the paths at the back of the house, and Harry was led over to a gazebo in a mounded area that might be a garden of some kind.

"Here in the gazebo" said the witch. Harry lowered the crate.

"Where do you want the display?" asked Harry "I have to aim it."

"Towards the house might be useful" said the witch.

Harry rotated the crate so that the arrow on top pointed towards the house, and checked the notes from George. It was going to need three hundred feet of range.

"Is the house at least three hundred feet away, do you think?" asked Harry.

"More like a hundred" said the witch.

"Well" said Harry "I think it might be too close." He looked around, and the area to the right looked mostly empty. "I'll aim it over to the right, you probably don't want the fireworks hitting your house."

"Hitting the house?" asked the witch loudly.

"Well, they might burn holes in it" said Harry "Or just set it on fire."

The witch put her hands on her hips "Are you putting me on?" she asked.

"We use actual fireballs, they er, set things on fire." said Harry "I often have to stop pyromaniacs sticking their heads in the crate while it's firing them off, or getting in the way while they're flying about."

"Pyromaniacs?" asked the brown haired witch "Like… Daphne Greengrass for example?"

Harry smiled awkwardly "Likes fireworks, often ends up covered in soot." he admitted.

"Well, it's a harmless hobby. It's not like she's getting covered in cum" said the witch and Harry choked, went red in the face and had to look away.

"You're welcome" said the witch "Tracey Davis, for a modest fee I'll do events."

"Without Greengrass as the straight witch?" asked Harry.

"Oh, I'm straight too" said Tracey with a grin. Harry couldn't help it, and snorted.

"Well, Daphne Greengrass has had me laughing" said Harry, one end of his mouth twitching with amusement.

"Oh no" said Tracey "My side-kick's branching out into her own act."

Harry nodded "And with your house burning down and everything" he added.

"Will it really?" asked Tracey.

Harry turned the crate a bit to the right and checked the projection plan on the parchment. It looked like the house was going to stay intact now. Tracy came over and eyed the parchment.

"So that's the outline of the pattern, and that's how long and how wide. My it's a big one" said Tracey. Harry choked.

"Oh choking on a big one" said Tracey "You're so innocent!" Harry went very red and had to turn away again to get his breath back.

"Wow, for an Auror you're pretty sensitive" said Tracey cheerfully.

Harry composed himself and started carefully casting the charms the fireworks box needed to go off, finally holding his wand to the crate's marked charging location, pushing magic into the runestones, and trying to judge the right amount.

"What are you doing?" asked Tracey abruptly.

"Trying" said Harry tensely "very carefully to put the right amount of magic into the crate so it gives a fireworks display, and doesn't incinerate anything."

"But you aimed it correctly" said Tracey.

"And if I put too much magic into it, the fireballs might run wild, please don't interrupt" said Harry. "You could have asked Daphne Greengrass, she's asked every possible fireworks related question" added Harry.

"All she says is that Kettle's an Auror, might be trustworthy, and beware going into secluded rooms with him" said Tracey.

"I've never!" said Harry indignantly.

"Her mother says otherwise." said Tracey "Are you going to propose to her huh? Are you?"

"No" said Harry "She's not my type"

"Ohh, what is your type?" asked Tracey, curiously.

"Heroic, sporty, cool under spell-fire" said Harry honestly.

"Oh god. You're another one. Another Ginny Weasley fan. Get over yourself. She dumped Harry bloody Potter, she's not going to date you. Michael Corner's taller, darker and better looking."

"Thanks" said Harry tightly "Considered doing match-making as a job?" he added sarcastically.

"Well, Daphne's mother thinks you'd do. Daphne's well, a bit fussy, but really, she's rich enough she could marry a brave but poor Auror, but she's still looking out for Mr does-not-exist." said Tracey.

"Wow, I'm glad you're being friendly." said Harry "Or my ego might be taking a pounding."

"Don't mention it" said Tracey dismissively "As there seems to be a decided shortage of romantic European young counts or princes with pedigrees going back to before writing, and enough magical power to make Harry Potter look like … well not like the Green-eyed beast of Gryffindor."

"The Green-eyed beast of Gryffindor?" asked Harry politely, wondering about this new nickname.

"Well, the man who won is a bit… naff, and Honestly, when he stares at someone, those eyes. Course, he's horribly scarred these days. From being an Auror. Do you know how he got so mauled?"

"Well" said Harry "Just confidentially, he got abducted by a healer from St Mungos who tried to remove his famous lightning bolt scar. It went horribly wrong, and he ended up… looking like that."

"So… nothing exciting, just bad luck?" asked Tracey, sounding disappointed.

"If you think about it, having his parents murdered, and the curse that nearly killed him leaving an incurable cursed scar as a baby, that was just bad luck too" said Harry. "It was some sort of protection his mother and father invented, and he got scarred anyway."

"So, he talks, like in the communal Aurors showers, where you lot all wash after a hard day fighting evil? All wet and sudsy?" asked Tracey.

"There's booths because the Auror office is mixed gender" said Harry.

"So… you don't know if Potter's really got a huge … you know?" asked Tracey.

"No" said Harry "Funny thing that, blokes don't actually compare sizes. Bit like girls comparing… who's got the smallest… private place."

Tracey Davis stared at Harry and her pupils shrank visibly "Oh Merlin. Nobody would do that" she said awkwardly.

"Like I said to Greengrass" said Harry "I don't know how Dean Thomas is making Pansy not a bitch, but if she's going out with him, and going on about coffee, maybe she just likes Dean and coffee."

Tracey thought about this for a little while and nodded "Which is why you're ideal for Daphne. She goes on about fireworks, and you're a fireworks guy."

Harry started casting diagnostic charms on the crate. It seemed… like it probably had the right charge.

"No" Harry added "She's conceited, spoilt, and has already said she wouldn't be seen with me if I had three titles and a castle."

"So you asked her out?" asked Tracey sounding surprised. "Boys generally don't."

"I don't know why" said Harry "If you don't mind her being spoilt, she's quite pretty, and I um heard she's a good dancer."

"I think" said Daphne Greengrass from the other side of the crate "That Tracey has talked to Kettle for quite long enough, don't you think, Kettle?" her tone was… cold and venomous.

Harry looked up, and Daphne Greengrass was wearing a white fur coat, and a white fur hat, and looked, well, princessey, irritated, and her eyes, so blue were in stark contrast to her pale face.

Tracey was looking at Daphne "Dressed to impress, Daphne?" she asked "If I'd known you were serious about Kettle I'd have been nicer to him."

"I assure you, Kettle is of no interest to me" said Daphne.

"Entirely, Heiress Greengrass" said Harry in a coldly polite tone. Daphne pressed her lips together and gave a small bow. Tracey seemed not to have noticed.

"With some help, the show is lined up to the right of the house, where it will not set anything on fire, that does not wander into the path of the fireworks" said Harry "Perhaps, Tracey and you can ensure those amusing pet geese don't get barbecued." he added sarcastically.

"Daphne, did Kettle ask you out?" asked Tracey.

"Of course not!" said Daphne. "He's… unsuitable."

"You mother didn't think so" said Tracey in a sing-song tone.

"I was looking at furnishings, trying to ensure the carpet and drapes would match" said Harry, and Tracey went red in the face, coughed a raspberry of surprise and stared fixedly from Harry to Daphne.

"Why the hell do people overreact to that!" said Harry "I just wanted to see a good display!"

Tracey snorted again, and Daphne frowned, and spoke up "Tracey, get your mind out of the gutter. Kettle wanted to see interior designs. Actual curtains, carpets, cushions, wall finishes, interior design."

"So, not?" asked Tracey, choked up. "Why'd your mother?"

"She sees me in a parlour with a young man and gets ideas" said Daphne. "And certainly not Kettle, not, if he had three titles and a castle."

"What she said" said Harry very blandly.

"But… you two argue, and surely that's unresolved sexual tension?" said Tracey.

"I'm sure Daphne has plenty of unresolved sexual tension" said Harry "but that's her problem, not mine."

"I've told you before Kettle," said Daphne firmly "If I wanted you to, you'd beg, you'd crawl over broken glass."

"That works better whispered in one ear" said Harry drily. "As Tracey identified, I'm a tragic Ginny Weasley fan, and you're not my type."

"Ohhh" said Tracey "Daphne, have you toyed with this poor man?"

"She tried" said Harry in a drawl "But as I'm not an inbred cretin, her moves were ineffective."

"Why don't you just freeze up again… Kettle" said Daphne bitterly.

"That's a medical issue, and it'll clear up," snapped Harry. "Unlike whatever the hell is wrong with your sister!"

Daphne Greengrass's wand came up, and her eyes narrowed and lost look of amusement "You keep your mouth shut, Kettle, or I'll blow your little secret up."

"Miss Greengrass" said Harry, grumpily "I just don't want publicity. That's all. Fame is worthless." Harry was surprised by his own reaction, he'd expected to feel the rush of adrenaline, feel anger filling him, but… he just felt… ticked off.

"Kettle's an Auror, you pull a wand on him, and he's … reasonable?" said Tracey "He definitely likes you."

"I'm trying to de-escalate the situation" said Harry, quoting a lesson from the Auror office he'd almost slept through.

Daphne Greengrass blinked "You don't seem me as a threat?" she said blinking "I'm very good at duelling!"

"Don't care" said Harry "What's the worst you can manage? A bone breaker? I've had worse in the morning and worked all day."

"Daphne?" asked Tracey "Who the hell is Kettle?"

"A… a very dangerous wizard with … a lot of political power and – " said Daphne.

"A short fuse" added Harry. "And the last time I suggested the ministry do something, they jumped to it."

"Is he kidding about the ministry?" asked Tracy nervously.

"No" said Daphne "He's sugar-coating it. He could probably use the torture curse on us in public and get a medal."

Harry smiled toothlessly "I chose not to." he said. "I'm being Nice. You could try it."

Daphne backed away, paling "Please" she said "I'm just trying to protect my sister."

"She does" said Tracey "Sets her off." she added.

Harry tried to contain a sudden surge of anger, the urge to … to destroy. Like uncle Tom, said his second thoughts.

"Fuck!" said Harry, turning away from the witches, embarassed, blinking and trying not to scream. His hands shook in fists, he was NOT like his uncle Tom, not Like Uncle Vernon. Not like Aunt Petunia. He wasn't. He was Harry Potter, the good guy, the man who won.

"Kettle?" called Tracey nervously.

Harry took several deep breaths, trying to calm down, his shoulders rising and falling.

Harry turned around and eyed the two nervous witches. "Sorry" he said "My temper's not the best."

"Not the best?" said Tracey.

"Oh I'm a pussycat compared to my uncle" admitted Harry "He'd kill you for looking at him disrespectfully."

"Your uncle?" asked Daphne squeakily.

"The man that I killed so publicly" said Harry tightly "Was my distant uncle."

"Ohmigod" said Tracey "You killed a death eater at the battle of Hogwarts? Daphne, come on girl, he's a proper hero. Not too bad looking. Okay, he's got a terrible temper, but that's probably sexual frustration."

"Tracey" said Daphne quietly "He's Harry bloody Potter. In disguise."

"What?" asked Tracey "Kettle the fireworks guy is Harry Potter? Harry Potter was in a parlour with you at your home? Daphne you devil!"

"Not" said Daphne "If he had three titles and a castle."

"Two titles, a large manor, and a part-share in a castle" said Harry ironically. "But I suspect there's also some property lost somewhere in the UK."

"What about outside the UK?" asked Daphne, distracted "The Blacks had property overseas?"

"I don't know" admitted Harry "My lawyer handed over some title-deeds, but – "

"Ohmigod" said Tracey "Harry Potter! Dad said Harry Potter didn't pay his legal fees, so dad held onto the title deeds."

Harry sighed "I was very short of cash at the time." he said "Nice to see professional lawyer-client confidentiality means nothing."

"Dad says that if they don't pay anything they don't deserve anything" offered Tracey unhelpfully.

"Where do I find out about foreign titles?" asked Harry.

"Your vault, copies in your vault" said Daphne. Harry rolled his eyes "And given that my vaults were seized?" he said.

"Oh… you were undesirable number one" said Daphne.

"A huge price on my head" said Harry "Can't turn myself in for it these days, sadly."

"You could do a paid interview with Witch weekly. They'd pay, not that, but they'd pay." said Tracey.

"I hate publicity, I hate journalists" said Harry bitterly.

"Wow, you are a Real Celebrity" said Tracey. "Turn back into Harry Potter?"

Harry finite-ed the disguise the brush had made, and Tracey blinked "Wow. Harry Potter." she said.

"Don't" said Daphne "He's an insufferable egotist, with a bad temper."

"I'll admit to the temper, but not the egotism" said Harry. "Now I have to put this disguise back on, if you don't mind."

Harry took out the comb-a-chameleon and brushed his hair back to brown and flat, and set his glasses to blue eyes again. A few minor charms to change the shape of his face, and he was back to being Kettle.

"Is that the silly brush something Weasleys sell?" asked Tracey "It actually works?"

Harry thew it to Tracey, who caught it "Try it yourself" he suggested.

Tracey examined the brush and played with the settings, and suddenly full-body-binded Daphne.

"Mwahahah!" Tracey laughed manically "I shall expose your dark secret…. Secrets!"

With that, she took off Daphne's' fur hat, and combed her hair, changing it from blonde to a very light brown. Daphne's eyes were locked on Tracey.

"Behold, Daphne Greengrass in her Natural Hair Colour!" said Tracey loudly, and cackled.

"Really?" asked Harry "Suits her, makes her look a bit less pale" he said offhandedly.

"That's masses of foundation" said Tracey conversationally "Not spelling that off, she could have spots, freckles, well, probably not massive scars like you, but anything"

Harry fired off an overpowered baby-cleaning charm onto Daphne's face, and her pale countenance was replaced by two red cheeks; She was blushing with… embarrassment or fury.

"Blushing." said Tracey "come to think of it, I remember that in first year, till she discovered foundation."

Harry finite'd the full body bind, and Daphne jolted and levelled her wand on Tracey "You… you… monster." she said, and then aimed at Harry "And you… violating my – my – privacy like that!"

She turned her back, muttered a spell and face them again, her face once again pale and expressionless.

"You know a foundation conjuring spell?" asked Tracey "You prat. I could do with that."

"Give me the brush" said Daphne tightly "Or I'll tell Pot – Kettle some Secrets of the Tracey Davis fan club."

Tracey handed over the brush immediately, and Daphne examined the brush.

"This actually works?" she said incredulously "It's a massive time saver. Is it a wonder-witch product?"

"It's a comb-a-chameleon brush, in the pranks section" said Harry.

"Put it in the wonder-witch section in silver and it will sell like… pygmy puffs." said Daphne, fiddling with the control knobs.

"Daph… Try something different?" asked Tracey.

"I like being blonde" said Daphne, fiddling with the controls, and brushing. Her hair changed, after a lot of brushing from light brown, to jet black, and got longer and longer, ending up waist-length.

"Wow, Lily will sue for impersonation" said Tracey.

"There needs to be a mirror on the back" said Daphne "Or sell it with a companion mirror. Not one that talks, they all end up being annoying."

Daphne finite'ed her hair, back to light brown, and brushed, with a slight adjustment back to blonde.

"You should go Red" said Tracey. "You'd look dramatic."

Daphne threw Tracey the brush "You do it"

Tracey played with the settings and combed her hair, not to red, but to wavy black, just over shoulder-length.

"Now I'd not be seen in public like this, but tell me, do I look like a Black or what?" she asked.

"Not" said Harry "Nose is wrong, cheekbones are wrong, and eyes. And the colour doesn't suit your skin tone."

"And I've said that to Daphne before too" said Tracey, finite-ing her hair, which led to it springing out a bit somewhat frizzy, and she combed it back to wavy brown.

"I'd like one for Yule" said Tracey. "I'm sure my best friend will get me one."

"My best friend will get one if I get one" said Daphne.

Harry checked his watch. "The shop's shut" he said.

"It's not time for fireworks for ages, go get two?" asked Tracey.

"No" said Harry "She'll stick her head in and get it blown off."

"Once!" protested Daphne "Once!"

"The crate is charged, one spell away from firing" said Harry. "Not safe to look into. About as safe as a Dragons mouth."

"Or Harry Potter" muttered Daphne.

"Can you actually be trusted not to stick your head in, or try to cast charms on the crate?" asked Harry seriously

"I was totally cautious at your birthday party" said Daphne.

"You've been to his House?" said Tracey "Been seen in a parlour, been to his party, argue with him, you're his friend Daphne. Harry Potters' friend!"

"An Acquaintance" said Harry "Not a friend"

"Yeah, because we're Slytherins and you're not" said Tracey dismissively,

Harry looked at Tracey and shook his head "Nothing of the sort." he said, and smiled "I was the parseltounge after all. Speaking to snakes."

"Told you! He's the heir of Slytherin!" said Tracey "Malfoy was right!"

"He said was" said Daphne Greengrass incisively.

"Lost the power, side effect of the war" said Harry hurriedly.

"So, are you the heir of Slytherin, then?" asked Tracey.

"The only thing Malfoy's ever been right about was that his father would hear of this" said Harry. "I swear on my immense ego, that I am not the heir of Slytherin."

"You swore that when I asked too" said Daphne "Then laughed at me."

"Don't do laughing at." said Tracey "Like a rhinoceros, Daphne doesn't appreciate it."

"My nose is not big!" said Daphne angrily.

"It's aristocratic" said Harry "You just look down it too much."

"Ohh, practically a compliment" said Tracey.

"No, that wasn't'" said Harry. "Ron has a big nose. Well, and big hands and feet."

Tracey went red in the face and tuned away.

"Did you just?" asked Daphne.

"Ron has got a big nose and big hands and big feet" said Harry "True facts."

"Implying that Ron Weasley's got a huge..." said Daphne.

"I can't say. I think last time I knew I obliviated myself" said Harry.

Tracey chortled "He's actually Funny?"

"Sometimes" said Daphne "But what a massive temper."

"Goes with my … ego" said Harry.

Tracey looked confused, her brows furrowing and Daphne Greengrass's eyes narrowed.

"Did?" asked Tracey "He just make a joke about both the size of his ego and his… wand?"

"Don't be fooled. It's probably tiny." said Daphne.

Harry slowly said "Eleven inches –" Harry paused "Holly and phoenix feather" And Tracey spluttered with laughter.

Daphne stood, mouth gaping open and shut "You… you're as bad as… as...as Tracey."

"Hers is thirteen inches, fir and unicorn hair, nice and whippy" said Tracey, and sniggered.

"There is nothing funny about my wand!" said Daphne.

"Whippy" said Tracey, "Wkickish!" she made a whipping sound, and snorted again.

"I promise I won't mess with the crate" said Daphne. "Can you get brushes? Please, they're fantastic."

"If you two seriously get the geese locked away, and make sure nobody else accidentally sets it off." said Harry. "I'll go get a couple, in boxes, with wrapping. I suppose."

"Yay!" said Tracey "Presents from Harry Potter. He's practically your boyfriend now!"

"No" said Daphne "He is not."

Harry went to apparate away and Daphne shouted "Kettle No!" Harry stopped his motion "What?"

"Property defences, only family can apparate on the grounds." said Daphne "You'll have to walk to the gate."

Harry pulled a shrunken broom out of his pocket, unshrunk it with a tap of his wand and shot off across the snowy lawns.

"Or fly off on a broom" said Daphne quietly.

"He's not that bad" said Traey "And He's Harry bloody Potter. Imagine how safe you'd be. One noise in the night, and you can send the man-who-won off to investigate it."

"Did you see the scar on his head " said Daphne "Revolting. The old one was … mysterious, this one's just… his whole forehead's come off."

"But those eyes" said Tracey. "Shame he's got glasses."

"I'll tell him if you don't shut up" said Daphne.

"Don't you dare!" said Tracey "Or I'll…. I'lll write to Jean Claude!"

" Jean Claude?" asked Daphne "Jean Claude from Beauxbatons?"

"The Jean Claude you took to the yule ball and snogged. That Jean Claude, your secret boyfriend."

"I dated him for thee months in fourth year, Tracey." said Daphne "I don't even know what he's doing these days."

"Pining for you probably" said Tracey sarcastically. "You're a grown witch, you can… visit France, see new things…. Snog cute french boys."

"Hmh" said Daphne dismissively.

"You realise" said Tracey, as Harry flew away over the snow covered ground "His broom's going to conk out at the boundary?"

They walked along the gravel path a little way, to keep the disappearing Harry Potter in sight. Daphne and Tracey watched Harry fly closer to the property line, crossing it, and suddenly the broom he was flying fell down and Harry Potter, the man-who-won, shot across the lane to disappear completely into a snowdrift.

"Snow is soft" said Daphne dismissively. The tiny distant figure of Harry Potter crawled out of the snowdrift, summoned and shrank his broom, returned it to his robe pocket, and vanished a crack of apparation.

Harry Potter reappeared surprisingly quickly, and flew over, landing and shrinking his broom, and stowing it in a robe pocket.

He held out two gift-wrapped boxes.

"What do we owe you?" asked Daphne, as Harry handed over the presents.

"Six galleons" said Harry "you can just credit vault four-three-two at Gringotts later" and with that, he pulled out his comb and re-disguised himself as Kettle.

-==0==-

"Dad?" Tracey asked her father, over dinner "Who has Gringotts vault four three two?"

"Gringotts doesn't disclose ownership of vault numbers, Dear" said Mr Davis, his cardigan a bit tight about his middle tonight. "But I think, no-one. Bole Smith has four four four and that's by far the oldest family I know of. I suppose maybe a Shafiq, or perhaps a Selwyn."

...

Daphne came into the hallway at the Davis house by floo, in her warm fur coat and hat. Tracey, wearing a woolly brown hat and a dufflecoat bounced on her feet.

"Daph" she said enthusiastically "Hot Gossip! From dad."

"Hot gossip from your father, the lawyer?" asked Daphne with a smile "Hardly hot."

"Potter – Kettle said vault four three two, remember?"

"Yes" said Daphne."

"Dad says Bole Smith has four four four, and only maybe Selwyn would be older. So… Potter's a like, mysterious ancient family. And he's cute!"

Daphne shook her head "That can't be, they'd be in the book, and they're Not." she said.

"But!" said Tracey excitedly, "Under a different name! They probably did what Kettle did and changed their name."

"Fine" said Daphne "Go look it up, see if you can get kicked out of Florish and Blott's again"

As night fell, the fireworks exhibit was set off.

Daphne Greengrass did not try to stick her head in the crate as it fired, or until Harry said it was safe, after the fireworks exhibit. She did try to wheedle out the meaning of the cryptic parchment Harry had been using as a firing model.

"Sorry, a trade secret of Weasleys Wizarding wheezes" said Harry "And half the code's silly, and the other half is rude, so I'm not explaining it."

-==0==-

Tracey sent an owl to Daphne the next afternoon with a very short note.

'Mysterious News, Come at once!'

Daphne flooed over and Tracey was waiting, rubbing her hands with glee.

"What?" asked Daphne, as they want to couches in the library.

"Be prepared for a surprise" said Tracey. "You'd better have Potter … Kettle."

"Why?" asked Daphne with an eye-roll.

"Because… duh duh duh duh … Potter is a made-up surname. They're only Potters since twelve eighty. Founded by some wizards, and a Peverell!"

"Peverell's are extinct" said Daphne "Everyone knows that."

"Hiding in plain sight as Potters!" said Tracey, "So the interesting part is … there's a suggestion the Peverells were …. necromancers. Explains his amazing survival, doesn't it!" said Tracey proudly.

"Yuck, and no" said Daphne.

"Oh come off it. He's got a huge pedigree as a Peverell. He also said that he-who-shall-not-be-named was his uncle." said Tracey.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle" said Daphne "I looked at the Ministry press release carefully. Dark lord but, Hogwarts graduate, and his mother was a Gaunt."

"Gaunt?" asked Tracey.

"Parselmouths" said Daphne "And so inbred."

"Ohh" said Tracey, sitting back "Potter's part Gaunt. Ew. Inbred."

'Accio Natures Nobility' cast Daphne and caught the book flying from the shelf.

She flicked through it. "Gaunts" she announced and read for a bit.

"There's rumours here that one of the Gaunts married a Peverell" said Daphne. "So Potter's part Gaunt. That's an uncle after all."

"Hang on" said Tracey "Potters are Peverells, and your boyfriend Harry admitted Tom Riddle was his distant uncle."

"The Gaunts" said Daphne reading "Claim to be the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, as they are parselmouths."

"Oh" said Tracey "So… wait, He's a Potter, and Potter's aren't Gaunts. But they are Peverells."

"Well" said Daphne frowning "He could be related through the Peverells, but he has to be a Gaunt too."

"He's a halfblood, he just can't be two real families." said Tracey.

"Is he really?" asked Daphne thoughtfully "Maybe it's true. Maybe his squib grandparents gave birth to a witch, and one was a Gaunt squib."

Tracey eyed Daphne "Are you starting to believe… they aren't nobodies?" she asked.

"Accidents" said Daphne. 'And bastards' went unsaid.

Tracey went off to Diagon alley to shop the next day. Weasley's wizarding wheezes was open, and she went in.

Kettle was selling fireworks.

"Davis" he said politely to Tracey.

Tracey cast a privacy charm

"So Kettle, was one maternal grandparent a Gaunt squib?" asked Tracey.

Kettle gave Tracey a glare "The Gaunts, Miss Davis, strangled their squibs, and married their cousins until they were so inbred that Merope Gaunt was nearly a squib, and deformed. She married a muggle, using love potions, and Tom Marvolo Riddle was born, she died and Tom grew up in an orphanage. He's a distant uncle. My mothers family are not Gaunts, thank you very much. You can tell her majesty I find that accusation distasteful." said Harry.

Tracey Davis blinked "You're… annoyed about that" she said.

"If I accused you of being part Gaunt, you'd be upset" said Harry. "Am I not human, if you cut me do I to bleed?"

"Everyone's seen you bleed" said Tracey. "Often. We're pure-bloods, you're not."

Harry smiled, and took out his notepad and wrote "Tracey Davis, pure-blood witch from Slytherin house at Hogwarts, observed that 'We're pure-blood's you're not'. I'm sure the Auror office will use this little tip."

Tracey looked at the notepad like it was a poisonous snake. "You – the – aurors." she said, blinking. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm the Black of Black" said Harry "Which is more trouble than it's worth really, and I am the pussycat of my family."

"Because your distant uncle was a dark lord." agreed Tracey.

"Just because my mother was a muggleborn, as you observed, she has squib parents. They're real people, they died before I was born, but they have real family trees. And unlike the Gaunts, it's not tangled vine."

"So, muggle-borns are… from real families." said Tracey.

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled and waved a hand "The muggles of London all have real family trees. A minuscule proportion are squibs, and related to some of the magical families you 'pure-bloods' think are real people. But everyone's a real person, Davis."

"But they're not magical" said Tracey firmly.

"Hermione Granger can kick your arse in a duel and I doubt there's a class at Hogwarts you could even meet her grades in. Her family are related to someone. Slughorn, boring old git that he is, suspects Dagworth-Grangers. Granger's a common surname, almost as common as Potter." said Harry "Being pure-blood seems to be just inbreeding in a lot of cases."

"I'm nice" said Tracey "I've never been so insulted in my life."

"You can, you could try for 'convicted criminal'" said Harry "All you need do is spout pure-blood drivel around the right Aurors, and you'll get a trial, which will probably mean your father having to pay bribes."

"You're an arsehole" said Tracey angrily.

"I'm being nice" said Harry "If you tried that with my mother's family, they'd probably just execute you. Greengrass observed I could probably cast an unforgivable on you in public and get a medal."

"You know who your mother's family is, don't you?" asked Tracey.

Harry nodded "And that's a family secret, and exactly what Tom Riddle did, that's so secret, if I told you, I'd be obliviated after you were mind-wiped. The minister doesn't want a repeat of it." Harry snorted "And Headmaster Dumbledore told me enough to wind me up and send me out, brave little boy with sword to defeat the dark lord. And half of that was lies, and I'm alive by accident. Never be part of history, it just tends to leave scars. I'm lucky the cursed scar healer didn't try to remove my other lightning bolt; I got a second one on my chest on the last day of the war. Considering it's over my heart… that would have killed me. And that would have been an irony I could… live without."

Tracey blinked "That's… the most tragic, teaser story ever. Work on your delivery, add a decent robe and leave out the threats, and you'll have something to pick up witches with."

"Miss Davis, I'm not in the picking up witches business" said Harry.

"Ohmigod... you're gay?" asked Tracey.

"Just fed up" said Harry "And not gay. Go away, Davis. Shoo."

"Was she another Peverell?" asked Tracey "Making you inbred?"

"My mother came from a long line of squibs, not Sacred Twenty-eight" said Harry "And not related to my father at all. Now piss off before I lose my temper."

-==0==-

Tracey let herself into Daphne's bedroom, and went and lay on Daphne's neatly made bed, while Daphne was reading a book on a small armchair by the window.

"He's not happy being accused of being a Gaunt" said Tracey.

"What!" said Daphne, jolting in her chair. She looked around and found Tracey "Normal people knock."

"I've seen you jilling before darling, nothing new to see" said Tracey. "Potter wrote my name and a thing I said down to give to the Aurors."

"He does that as a threat" said Daphne "He wrote my sisters name down and nothing bad happened. Well, except for marrying Draco dahling."

"He's got a foul temper" said Tracey. "And had a message for you."

"He's got a message for me?" asked Daphne, folding her arms and looking down her nose.

Tracey snorted. "He said, tell her majesty I find the suggestion distasteful. And had the cheek to call himself the pussycat of his family."

"He's an orphan, and the last Potter, probably the last Peverell and his distant uncle was bloody Voldemort. He has no relatives." said Daphne "He can't know my name."

"I swore an unbreakable vow" said Tracey. "Which was a bit off, considering I was only ten."

"Does he know?" asked Daphne nervously. "You know I hate it."

"He has an aunt, His adopted aunt Andromeda, she's a Black." said Tracey.

"The Blacks are all mad." said Daphne. "My brother-in-law's mother will be completely gaga before she has grey hair."

"When was he adopted?" asked Tracey.

"Before Sirius Black died, clearly." said Daphne.

"So… Potter and Malfoy are cousins, have been for years." said Tracey "That makes him your distant relative by marriage."

"Fortunately" said Daphne "Potter never speaks to Malfoy socially, so there's no risk of seeing the two of them over luncheon. It's bad enough trying to keep one's stomach contents when Draco kisses my sister."

"His wife, who he shags" said Tracey.

"Trace, in the interest of not destroying what little interest I have in men, don't remind me" said Daphne, with a grimace.

"And your parents didn't fight that because Astoria..." said Tracey.

"Could you tell her no. Knowing?" said Daphne tightly

"Course not. She does get a little spoilt." said Tracey.

"Averaged out over a hundred and fifty years she's not spoilt" said Daphne, sniffling.

"Sorry" said Tracey.

"It's okay" said Daphne. "There's nothing we can do. No point fretting" she said her voice catching.

"Oh, Potter admitted to having a second lightning bolt scar, over his heart from the war. And that he was lucky that one's not been removed." said Tracey.

"He's already heartless." said Daphne.

"How did he get a part share in a castle?" asked Tracey.

"Timeshare" said Daphne dismissively "Dreadful castles, and only some weeks of the year. How pretentious… goes with his huge ego."

"His mother's family aren't sacred-twenty-eight, so he says, a long line of squibs" said Tracey "And he had the nerve to say Granger's a better witch than I, and got better grades in everything."

"Well, she did, Tracey" said Daphne. "Granger got a lot of Outstandings."

"And can apparently kick my arse in a duel" said Tracey "As If I'd duel Danger Granger."

Daphne and Tracey sat down at Daphne's table, Daphne calling their elf, and they had tea and biscuits.

"Daphne, Potter's… he's got monumental anger issues." said Tracey thoughtfully.

"And a huge ego" said Daphne.

"Daph, why are you always going on about his ego?" asked Tracey "For what he's done he's quite modest about it."

"Because Everybody has fought dragons, killed dark lords and saved us from Death-Eater government" said Daphne sourly.

"But he did" said Tracey "And he hardly goes on about it."

"He lied" said Daphne suddenly "He lied about who he was, what he did. He pretended to be a humble Auror, with a tragic back-story from the war."

Tracey tilted her head "Daph, did you fancy Kettle?"

"It was all lies" said Daphne angrily. "He's not humble and his family name is hardly one you'd hide after the war."

"He um, does seem to hate publicity" said Tracey.

"And then at the Yule ball, he started fighting all those dreadful people, and was just blowing them up, and ran off, chasing them down!" said Daphne. "And afterwards… well he was just awful. He took liberties."

Tracey dropped her teacup with a clatter "He took liberties!" said Tracey "A sweaty hero taking liberties. You didn't tell me that!" Tracey was gazing at Daphne glassily.

"I mean" said Daphne tightly "That he stood next to a drinks table, with his Auror notebook, taking statements and drinking till there was no booze left. He was extremely rude to my sister, and practically forced Draco to turn turncoat on the old guard on the spot."

"Okay, he's an alcoholic who's amazing in a fight." said Tracey. "I wouldn't mind a big tough Auror in bed to send off if it sounded like there were prowlers."

"His house is full of the most dire furniture, cursed to the rafters. All Victorian and ghastly" said Daphne. "If he'd bought all his furniture from Borgin and Burkes it'd be no worse."

"What does he say about them?" asked Tracey.

"I um, don't know" said Daphne. "I didn't ask. I felt saying 'Oh Harry Potter, why is all your furniture so ghastly?' might get me thrown out. And I hadn't seen the fireworks display yet."

"What, at his birthday party, you hussy, who'd you go with?" asked Tracey.

"He's hiding something." said Daphne surely.

"By the sound of it, I know what you're trying to find" said Tracy "His trouser snake"

"I AM NOT SEXUALLY INTERESTED IN HARRY POTTER!" shouted Daphne.

"You always go on about how he's got a huge ego, when he seems fairly modest, considering." said Tracey. "And decent looking, apart from his forehead."

"You ask him out then" said Daphne.

"I think I will" said Tracey lifting her nose.

"Fine" said Daphne "Good luck finding him to ask out. He's a recluse."

"I'll owl him" said Tracey "Like a normal person."

"His owl post still doesn't get through" said Daphne.

"Which you know why?" asked Tracey.

"I write him a thank-you note after his birthday, thanking him for the meal and fireworks display." said Daphne "It was only politeness."

"And he didn't reply, that's not owl post not getting through" said Tracey.

"I included a request for a fireworks display, and one was not forthcoming. Weasleys did not contact me" said Daphne.

"You tried to get a discount?" asked Tracey "Your mother would not approve."

"My MOTHER thinks I should date Kettle. Who, as you know is Harry bloody Potter." said Daphne.

"He hit that snowdrift pretty hard" said Tracey "Do you think it hurt?"

"He played Quidditch with a broken arm, I expect he didn't notice." said Daphne dismissively.

"Did you see that rumour about parseltounge in Teen Witch Weekly?" said Tracey "Their Indian correspondent says that parseltouge wizards are sought after in India. Apparently they can er… hiss while um… being intimate and it's… well, witches fight over them."

"That is propaganda to send witches to India, marrying up penniless healers" said Daphne. "If parsletouge did that, Salazar Slytherin would have been famous for, well, you know. Not being a dark wizard and liking snakes. And Weasley wouldn't have let him go."

Tracey looked thoughtful "So… the article about Norwegian forest wizards and their rock-hard abs was probably propaganda too?" she asked.

"Honestly!" said Daphne "There's more to finding a wizard attractive than creepy hissing magic and rock-hard abdominal muscles."

"Shame really, Potter's got both" said Tracey "But do explain?"

"All I want" said Daphne politely "Is a wizard with plenty of magical power, from a bloodline that great-grandmama will think is marrying upwards, who's handsome, funny, and obviously, tall dark and handsome."

Tracy closed her eyes and took several slow breaths, and reopened her eyes. "Daph, ever since you decided you liked boys, you've had these… unrealistic expectations."

"My sister married the richest wizard in England, Tracey" said Daphne "It's not unrealistic."

"Malfoy's been fined till he's not the richest wizard in England" said Tracey.

"When she got engaged he was" said Daphne "That Potter decided to take Malfoy down several pegs was incidental. He has no respect for Draco whatsoever. He basically told Draco that he owed Harry, and to go put out feelers to the last of the old guard, and inform the Aurors, without caring that Draco didn't even have a wand to protect himself."

"He was a death eater, Daphne. He organised the attack with werewolves when Professor Dumbledore Died." said Tracey "I know your sister likes him, but… he really is a loathsome worm."

"I agree, but even Malfoy is human. Potter basically said, got put your head in the lions mouth, or else." said Daphne. "He's quite callous."

"Would you be upset if Malfoy died?" asked Tracey.

"I'd be devastated becuase Tori would collapse utterly." said Daphne crossly.

"But if Malfoy wasn't married to your sister?" asked Tracey.

"I'd have asked for Azkaban for him, on principle" said Daphne "But they're a package deal. Like Granger getting serviced by Weasley and Potter."

"What… both of them?" asked Tracey "Do tell?"

"Well obviously they did" said Daphne "Why else would someone so much smarter hang around with two stupid boys?"

"Daphne?" asked Tracey "Have you ever considered going to a mind healer. I think you've got some issues to work through. Like hating Granger, for one."

"I don't hate Granger, I hate Potter. He's a rude, arrogant boor" said Daphne.

"He was quite funny at Yule and you were getting on with him then."

"He ignored my request for morning tea. He's arrogant." said Daphne.

"You – You – You asked Harry Potter to morning tea?" asked Tracey.

"I had quite cold feet by the end of our little conversation at yule. I thought indoors, with some warm tea. He could, for example, come clean about what really happened in the war" said Daphne.

"He can't tell you that. He's already said that." said Tracey.

"I could make him talk" said Daphne.

"He denies you have any influence on him" said Tracey.

"His eyes dilated, he shook like a leaf and danced closer afterwards, I assure you, my moves worked perfectly" said Daphne, looking down her nose.

Tracey blinked "Bloody hell" she said.

"Well, I could at least find out who his mother is related to." said Daphne. "I abhor people keeping secrets from me."

"Um" said Tracey "If he doesn't get mail, how did you ask him to tea?" she asked.

Daphne blushed.

"Ohmigod, you whispered in his ear?" asked Tracey.

"I erm, sent a letter" said Daphne.

"Daphne, come on, we're going to solve a mystery" said Tracey, standing. We're going out, so put on a travelling cloak and a hat."

"You're going to ask him?" asked Daphne. "We can't."

"We bloody well can" said Tracey, and she dragged Daphne to the main fireplace and they flooed to Diagon alley.

Harry Potter or Kettle were not in evidence at Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes.

Tracey approached Ron, who was selling prank wands to a group of twelve-year-olds.

"Auror Weasley?" squeaked Tracey "When you have a moment?"

Ron frowned but as soon as the children had their toys, he walked over to Daphne and Tracey, who were looking at Comb-a-chamelons boxes.

"These" said Daphne pointing "With silver backs, in wonder-witch packaging with a non-talking mirror will sell like prize pygmy puffs."

Ron frowned "Is that all?" he asked.

"Harry Potter" said Tracey "Who checks all his mail?"

"All his mail?" asked Ron "He hardly gets any."

"Harry Potter, most famous wizard in England, hardly gets any mail?" said Daphne "Chief Warlock Dumbledore said Harry could not reply to mail as a child because of the defences he was behind. He is not a child."

"Erm" said Ron, crossing his eyes "Somethings's not right, I can't even think about it."

"You've been memory charmed" said Tracey "Like in the Count of Mont St Helena."

"The what?" asked Ron.

"A dreadful historical romance" said Daphne offhandedly. "Get Potter to a curse-breaker. Maybe they can find his missing mail."

When they left the shop Tracey exhaled "Oh merlin. I talked to Ron Weasley."

"Who's a lazy arse" said Daphne. "Didn't even go back to school to get his NEWTs."

"He's so handsome" said Tracey "Huge hands and feet, his eldest brother satisfies a Veela, for Merlins sake."

"William Weasly got twelve NEWTs" said Daphne drily "And is apparently a Gringotts curse-breaker, who met his wife, working as a Gringotts curse-breaker. Their relationship is based on more than just looks."

"He's got a huge wand too" said Tracey.

"Oh I give up" said Daphne in disgust. Tracey cackled merrily.