"Daphne Greengrass and the no-good, terrible, very bad years."

Where Daphne's faith in her parents is sorely tried… and she ends up married.

By An Orc, This work is an alternate point of view for 'Not with a half-blood.' Daphne Greengrass would be mortified if anyone read it, so please close the window now. If you've got it on a portable muggle device, delete it at once. And in the unlikely event it's proper book, burn it and vanish the ashes.

Chapter Four: Harrods

Potter went out after dinner to Gringotts to made sure Daphne had access to vaults.

Potter even wore robes to breakfast, though he left to change afterwards while Daphne and Astoria made lists at the dining table. Lists made, Daphne went to her room to change into a dress. It should pass for muggle.

When Daphne left her room she found Potter waiting for her, in tatty muggle blue denim trousers and a jacket that a tramp wouldn't wear. Potter looked at her and had a faint smile on his face. Like he was proud of his ensemble.

"That outfit is awful. Haven't you got something more… respectable?" Daphne complained.

Potter went off upstairs, hopefully to change.

Daphne went back into her room to try on different shoes. Clearly she'd done something wrong with her outfit. Astoria had brought along a dress that was equally muggle-ish, and wore sensible button boots.

There was a crack of apparation outside her room ,and Daphne came out to see what new horrors from Potter, with only one shoe on.

Potter was… wearing a well tailored dark suit and importantly, a Slytherin tie. He looked… handsome and Harry Potter was wearing a Slytherin tie. Oh the joy in his humiliation.

"This better?" asked Potter, looking umcomfortable.

"You look… like a respectable Muggle… and you're wearing a Slytherin tie. I need a camera" said Daphne, mostly joking about the camera.

Astoria liked the tie too. Potter was clearly peeved. He probably wore Gryffindor underwear.

And Potter took them via the Leaky Cauldron to Muggle London, and on to a giant store, an entire building the size of St Mungo's, that was all one shop. Harrods.

They had absolutely everything. Well, everything a muggle could purchase.

Potter led them around; and that seemed mysterious until Daphne spotted the signs and maps. The words on the maps were oddly chosen.

And then he took them into a large area consisting entirely of women's unmentionables. And there were dummies, vaguely human-like clad only in unmentionables displayed in large, lewd tableaux. The dummies had quite realistic looking breasts. Daphne stopped still, her sister beside her. Potter wanted her to… do that?

"We're not buying any of that" said Daphne.

Potter took them to an adjacent section where 'comfortable clothes' were kept. Soft, stretchy trousers lined with fake fluff, and jackets the same, and soft soled shoes… and warm socks…

And Potter enlisted a sales-witch. No A sales-woman with a silver badge that said 'Sarah' who took over the process of showing Daphne and Astoria all the comfortable clothes – including knickers made like boy pants that were soft and stretchy "These are super-comfy" confided the 'Sarah.'

Astoria looked revolted; till she got to handle them. The store had changing booths down a hallway with a curtain that Sarah took them to and handed both of them piles of clothes to try. Everything was pre-made so 'sizes' had to be found. Sarah had warm hands, even if her measuring tape was oddly un-magical.

Daphne stepped out of the changing room to see Astoria, clad like herself entirely in warm stretch fleece trousers and a tunic with a hood. It was so soft and gloriously warm.

"This is my go-to when I'm having a bad period" confided Sarah. And the muggles had the best slippers. Astoria selected slippers in the shape of rabbits.

Loads of socks, and comfy 'underwear' and then Sarah asked "well, you could get some pretty stuff, you know?"

And the muggle tricked Daphne into trying on pink lacy underthings with little beige spots on the silk top-layer that were… quite comfy and had 'elastane' whatever that was, but it meant a little stretchiness instead of itchy ties. Potter stood around, waiting, and Sarah, conscious of modesty, checked fit from inside the change-room hallway.

Somehow time passed, and many clothes piled up. Then Sarah asked if they'd like some 'janes.' Whatever those were. But apparently she's meant those denim trousers, which came in women sizes apparently, and many colours. And Sarah thought they both deserved white and blue.

Daphne struggled into the surprisingly soft denim trousers and did them up around her waist; they were exceedingly tight around her bum. She eyed her reflection. And the muggles had some sort of glamour charm on the jeans as they made her bum look far more attractive than even Fleur Weasley's veela heritage.

"Daphne, how's the fit?" asked Sarah around the door.

"I'm not sure" admitted Daphne "They're tight… around my posterior."

"Let me check?" asked Sarah and Daphne opened the door, and turned around.

"Oh wow" said Sarah "Those are a keeper. You look fantastic. You might want a loose pair for like, painting furniture or stuff."

And a loose pair was found, and Daphne eyed her reflection in those. Which were easier to get into, at least. They still… there was a statute breaching charm on the jeans, Daphne was sure. Potter's bum looked fantastic in them too, she thought briefly, and closed her eyes. No.

She opened the changing room door and showed Sarah.

"Yup. Perfect." said Sarah "Wish I had your figure. Though, your sister's got legs to die for."

Daphne nodded "I feel squat" she said quietly.

"Hot not squat" said Sarah "There's always high heels."

Daphne nodded. They were in the wardrobe and hurt her toes.

Four hours later, Daphne had to conceded that comfortable Muggle clothes were… comfortable. And most muggle clothes were very comfortable; except some that Sarah admitted "were just for looks," and that Daphne declined to own.

Sarah took them over to a strange boxy contraption on a desk, and somehow totalled up the cost of the entire … two rather huge shopping piles as fast as she could move the items; she didn't even have to touch a quill. Potter stood around looking bored. Many bags filled up with clothes. It was like shopping in Paris, but so much faster.

Sarah finally asked for… eight hundred and forty-three pounds. Potter opened his small suitcase and handed over nine coloured paper notes.

"Cash?" asked Sarah, sounding surprised.

"My bank are being a nuisance about a lost card" said Potter cryptically.

"Oh, I'm sorry" said Sarah and she gave back some different paper notes. Harry put them in the case.

Potter led them off to a quiet corridor of the store "Shrinking charms or elf?" He asked.

"Elf" said Daphne "Magic can interfere with muggle technology"

Potter nodded and led them to an even quieter spot, and called Kreacher.

Kreacher appeared with a muted pop "Master is among the muggles"

"Take this shopping home" said Harry and she and Astoria gave Kreacher armloads of bag-handles. The small elf, looking overburdened, disappeared with a pop.

"Well, now for some more shopping" said Potter brightly.

"We've got everything" said Daphne "Though, can we get some fur coats? The ones they had seemed quite nice."

"When we've got a bank card" said Potter "I don't think we've got enough cash for that"

"How much have you got?" asked Daphne.

"Three thousand odd" said Potter "It's only a thousand galleons worth," as if a thousand galleons wasn't a lot.

"We don't make a thousand galleons a year, – Harry" said Daphne sharply.

Potter frowned briefly then said "Well, I need some clothes, and I think we can get some things for the house, and the pantry"

"What sort of things?" asked Daphne.

"Little things" said Potter, and took them to a kitchen section, and piled up various cooking things and some cake tins.

"You're buying cooking things?" asked Astoria.

"I like cooking, and these things are things I've used... before. They're simple and affordable. Then Potter found a knife block he simply insisted he had to have.

And Potters' cooking things ate the smaller notes from the suitcase.

"Why were those knives so expensive?" asked Daphne, as they'd been the most expensive knives there, and in real money, they'd been at least ten galleons each.

"Because they're make from better steel, and have no seams to break, or catch dirt." said Potter.

"Hmmh!" Daphne snorted. Potter had been very quick to explain that. He'd… he'd wanted some knives like this for some time, she realised.

Potter went on to the menswear section , and tried to buy sloppy rubbish. Daphne simply initiated he buy suits. He looked quite good in a muggle suit.

"These are okay" said Daphne "For casual clothes" she added derisively.

Potter brought two suits and four pairs of quite well made leather shoes to supplement his one good pair. Potter found some 'jeans' on 'special' that fit him, and they were very cheap, so Daphne didn't bother arguing. Besides. They had shoes. Nobody had told her they had shoes.

"They have shoes?" asked Daphne "Where are the women's shoes?"

And Daphne got to look at a few shoes, and found some high-heeled boots that fit. They were not as high as her stupid wedding shoes, and they were more solid than a high-heeled shoe. And the looked good. Like a high-heeled riding boot. Potter gave in remarkably quickly.

Astoria found a muggle 'trainer' one of the soft shoes, but as a platform, in white. Daphne saw a way to be taller and not have sore feet, and tried them out, and it was like walking on very tall pillows. And great-grandmama had mentioned platforms, though she probably would pitch a fit if she saw Daphne in muggle clothes.

"Shoes for my dear, short sister" said Astoria.

"See anything you like, Astoria?" asked Potter. Astoria snatched a few pairs of stylish heeled shoes and put them in the pile.

"Don't spend our money, buying my sister shoes" said Daphne.

"She can take you shopping here later, once you two are used to it" said Potter casually. Astoria looked thoughtful.

"You'd let us go shopping, in London without coming to protect us?" asked Daphne, suddenly feeling the presence of the millions of muggles. Who burnt witches.

"You're big girls" said Potter casually.

"It's not safe. There's muggles" said Daphne quietly, and Potter got a 'thinking shaved monkey' look on his face again.

Once the modest number of bags of shoes were paid for, Potter took them to a secluded corner and got Kreacher to take the stuff home.

"Come on, I'm famished, we're having lunch" said Potter , and they went to the store's restaurant, and they had lunch. There were some edible looking options.

Astoria had the salmon, "It's okay I suppose" she commented.

Daphne had the char-grilled eggplant and stuffed vegetables and it was… well she'd certainly eat it again. It was, she mused, as good as Paris.

"Well, we're done with Harrods now" said Potter.

"No, you promised we'd see the pantry area" said Astoria.

Potter led them down several odd moving staircases, where only the stairs moved, and they found the 'food hall' which was cavernous, and full of… delicious looking stands.

"They have so many things" said Daphne, trying not to drool.

Potter bought things, and they got bag after bag, and the muggle money nearly ran out. As they left Daphne was move to admit "Mother has never seen some of this stuff, These are going to be great presents, especially for the people who sent expensive gifts."

"We got gifts?" asked Potter.

"Wedding gifts" said Daphne "Kreacher and I took care of it."

"Anything I'd want?" asked Potter.

"Mostly, things to replace things that are… a little old." said Daphne, "Sheets, some small things, vases… punch-bowls, that sort of thing. Some traditional presents." as they struggled down the street, looking for a convenient alleyway.

Astoria spotted an alleyway and ducked in, and Daphne hurried after her, and Potter followed, carrying a few little things in his five or six bags.

"Back home" said Potter, and they apparated away to the front steps of Grimmauld place.

Potter opened the door, and they all staggered inside and dropped the bags.

"Kreacher" called Daphne.

Kreacher appeared with a pop

"Store this lot, but we're going to be using some as gifts for people, so don't unwrap things" said Daphne. Kreacher looked at the pile took a deep breath and Potter said "Kreacher, take small loads, take breaks. I'm tired, and you've carried all the things, you have every right to be a little tired."

Kreacher looked at Potter briefly, but took two bags and walked them downstairs to the kitchen instead.

"He's not as young as he once was" said Potter.

Daphne thought about it and realised Kreacher was the most decrepit house-elf she'd ever seen.

"Now I'm afraid, we have some more shopping to do, this time for some muggle things" said Potter.

"That cleaning potion?" asked Daphne.

"Yes" said Potter "We're going to Islington green then a shop called Tesco"

"Have you got another case of muggle money?" asked Astoria.

Harry emptied the case a revoltingly worn leather papers-cover only big enough for muggle monies.

"This won't cost much" said Potter confidently.

Islington green was, well a lot like central London and the green they'd apparated onto was tiny.

The store they wanted was apparently called Tesco, and it was as large as single floor of Harrods, but seemed to sell mostly brightly coloured boxes, and was full of muggles looking downtrodden and pushing metal carts around. Some muggles put things onto the shelves, and some took them off.

It was… oddly hellish. "It lacks tone" she said.

Potter took a basket not a trolley, and bought coffee beans, milk, and four different oddly shaped opaque bottles. Like all muggle things covered in labels.

"One will work" he said confidently, then spotted a different section.

Apparently the sweets section, full of incomprehensible things.

A few grabs later, Potter went past a beeping box and it's muggle attendant, and paid twenty-two pounds.

"Oh, it's very affordable" admitted Daphne.

"It's not even the cheapest place to buy food" said Potter "There's cheaper places to go, but I wanted the scale remover."

Daphne felt that muggles could not possibly know about Dragons.

She waited till they were home to ask. Potter explained that muggles called those kinds of stains scale, sometimes.

"Well, show us this 'muggle magic'" asked Daphne. And Potter apparated away. To reappear moments later in clothes that Daphne would have had Kreacher destroy as rags, had she braved his drawers.

"You're in awful clothes" said Daphne. Astoria perked up.

"This stuff might ruin clothes" said Potter "Like making potions"

"You could wear a work robe" said Daphne.

"It would get stained, or bleached" said Potter. Astoria made a snide aside about Daphne knowing all about bleach. Daphne resisted the urge to hex a big-mouthed sister.

Potter apparated away with on of the 'carrier bags' , and returned moments later.

He picked up the Tesco bag, and led Daphne and Astoria to the first floor bathroom. Which was quite dreadful, the sink was a nightmare. Potter conjured a rag and used the first bottle; it shifted the stains with a bit of rubbing.

"It works?" said Daphne. Mummy couldn't get those stains off, and Potter had used muggle potions to do it.

Astoria said suddenly"I need this stuff, Malfoy Manor has endless bathrooms and lots of them have this sort of staining. Potter vanished the toilet water, 'scourgified', then used the same stuff on the bowl. Daphne looked in – it was markedly better. Potter left it and said "Well, more sinks."

"The bath" said Daphne firmly. It had a permanent, revolting crust at bath-water height.

Potter scrougify'ed the bath, which did nothing, obviously, but the muggle potion worked… a bit.

"I'll have to come back to it" said Potter, and gave the toilet bowl another scrub. It was improved.
"Chemistry's powerful, even if it's not magic" said Astoria.

"Does this stuff come in bigger bottles" asked Daphne, seeing the need to have barrels of the stuff.

"There's industrial stuff for cleaning schools and things like that" said Potter "But we've only got four bathrooms and the kitchen sinks." And he could count.

"The laundry sinks are not great either" said Daphne. Potter gave her a look – like he was impressed.

"How many bedrooms do you have, Daphne?" asked Astoria.

"Fourteen counting the nursery" Daphne said. Not that it was getting used this century.

"Do the muggles have anything for getting houses like this clean on the outside?" asked Daphne. The house was after all, dirty on the outside as well.

"I've seen them clean buildings, yeah" said Potter.

"You realise our house is the dirtiest on the street?" Daphne asked, pointedly.

"We could get a muggle company to do it" said Potter. "They're quite cheap, for that sort of thing."

"Did you ever find the back door?" asked Daphne.

"Er, no?" said Potter.

"Back door?" asked Astoria.

"Mother thinks we should have a back door, in the kitchen somewhere" explained Daphne. "This is a muggle-made house, after all."

"Well if we're looking for it, you two need to put on clothes that you don't mind getting dirty." said Potter "Everywhere in this place was awful till it was cleaned; and this door will be dirtier than that."

Daphne dispparated to her room, where she had muggle clothes for 'dirty jobs' thanks to Sarah. They were new, but every rag gets used for a first time. Astoria appeared with a crack and stated rummaging in her own bloody clothes bags.

Jerseys and loose jeans and trainers. If felt odd to dress like Danger Granger, but… they were practical and very comfortable, and Daphne definitely didn't mind if they got ruined.

Once they were dressed, Daphne called "Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared with a pop. "Mistress?" he asked.

"We're doing something very grubby." explained Daphne "Where is your master?"

"Master has taken tea in the kitchen" said Kreacher. "The bathroom on the first floor is not looking as it did."

"It's called cleanliness" said Daphne sourly, and turned to Astoria "Kitchen!"

They disapparated in unison down to the kitchen. Potter was standing by the sink, looking … like someone's husband. A muggle one. Ew.

Astoria looked around the kitchen and pointed to the wall behind the comfy chair in the corner by the floo fireplace. "That wall's got a patch on it… it's different brick"

Potter looked at the patched part on the wall "Too small for a door, and it can't be a window; it would be into the basement next door"

"The obvious place would be behind that hutch by the fireplace" said Daphne.

Potter wandered over and looked at the hutch, and scratched the hair on the back of his head again.

Daphne examined the room again – ignoring the wear, while Potter started picking plates up off it and putting them on the long kitchen table.

"Why is this table so big?" asked Daphne. "It's huge?"

"We used to have meetings of the Order of the Phoenix here" said Potter. "Lots of members, well there used to be lots." He stared at the floor.

"Is it transfigured?" asked Daphne, and she cast a few detection charms, on the table, which it transpired had been elaborately transfigured, and reversed a transfiguration on it, which shrank the table to merely long enough for five people each side. The screech as it shrank across the floor was loud, as where the thuds as all the mismatched chairs fell over, making a mess.

"Did all these chairs come from the kitchen originally?" asked Daphne.

"Well some of them match the dining room chairs, so I doubt it." said Astoria observantly.

"Harry, why aren't you using magic to move the china off that hutch?" asked Daphne.

"Um… habit I guess" said Potter, and with a swish and flick, moved most of the remaining china to the table. Apart from the two plates that fell and broke.

"Fumble-wand" said Astoria, and she reparo'd the plates and stacked them on the table.

Potter opened the bottom doors of the hutch said "This is where the tools are, good."

Daphne decided she couldn't' wait for the shaved monkey, and cast an unpacking charm on the lower cabinet and all the contents floated out and laid down in rows.

"Unpacking charm" she said.

Potter asked "What's it called, I need to learn it"

"Standard book of spells, grade seven, the unpacking charm" said Daphne.

"I get the hint" said Potter, looking at the things unpacked "This is a toasted sandwich maker" he said, gently kicking a long handled metal box "And that's a barbecue fork"

"Could that stuff work on the fireplace?" asked Daphne. Not salivating at the thought of toasted marshmallows at all. No.

"If you're not flooing, I guess" said Potter.

"Not insane for it to be there" said Daphne "These… tools, they're for what?"

"Fixing things without magic." said Potter "They're old, but I've used things like them; though that big spanner thing is for plumbing, I'm pretty sure."

"So these are muggle tools?" asked Daphne.

"I don't think there's any difference" said Potter "It's tricky to put screws or nails in with a wand"

"Sticking charms" said Daphne bluntly. A talking dog, honestly.

"This is for things like doors; where you might want to finite it, and not have it fall to bits" said Potter.

"Oh" said Daphne, and since when did Potter think about consequences? "That makes sense, I suppose" she admitted.

"Why are they in the kitchen" asked Astoria. "Tools are in the tool-shed by the stable." Daphne wanted to face-palm. Her sister was such a dolt sometimes.

"We don't have a tool-shed or stable" said Potter rather generously. "So I think they got heaved in here and forgotten."

"We need a box for those tools" said Daphne. "Tools go in tool boxes." That much was definitely true.

"More than one box" said Potter, looking at the grimy rusty tools "One box would be very big and heavy. Can't be a conjured box, it'd be a pain if someone vanished it."

"We need wood to transfigure." said Daphne "And you need to make picture frames to cover up you-know-what." He still hadn't. Daphne suspected he liked that sort of thing.

"Yes" said Astoria "You need a new picture to cover the wall in the front hall."

Potter looked at Daphne "A painting?" Potter asked and… that was an intelligent question.

"We could use a wedding photograph" said Daphne airily. Mummy was very pleased with the main one.

"We should get a photo of all the Blacks and use that" said Potter "you and me and Andromeda and Teddy." And… that was actually a rather good idea. It would be like any normal family house.

Daphne pursed her lips "That… would be quite nice really. We didn't have Andromeda and Teddy for the wedding photos though."

"Dennis can do a new photo." Potter Harry "Where would we take it?"

"The drawing room" said Daphne. "If it wasn't such a dump." she added because Potter STILL hadn't renovated it.

"I'll do it up tomorrow and owl Dennis" said Potter.

"Who's Dennis?" asked Astoria.

"The photographer" said Daphne "Harry knows him somehow."

"Dennis was in the DA, so was his older brother Colin. Colin died in the battle of Hogwarts" said Potter.

"I take it they're muggle-borns" said Astoria. And bless Merlin she'd used the right word. In fact, thought Daphne she'd never heard Astoria use the M-word.

Potter nodded "And proud. Dennis the youngest person to get an Order of Merlin, third class ever."

"He is quite a good photographer" said Daphne, trying not to choke. The little pipsqueak wedding photographer was a blooming war hero. "Can he make a photograph the size of paintings?"

"I'm sure he can" said Potter confidently.

"The wedding photo at mothers would go well in the drawing room" said Daphne.

"Just us, or the whole group?" asked Potter.

"Both, but on different walls" replied Daphne thoughtfully, starting to imagine the Drawing room as not just stained paper and old furniture.

"The hutch" said Astoria impatiently.

Potter levitated the hutch and floated it over to the swathe of unpacked tools.

Potter walked around the hutch and said "Well there's no door."

Daphne walked around the hutch and lit her wand to have a good look at a wall that looked like it was plastered by a one-armed blind goblin. "This wall is uneven"

"All these walls are uneven" Potter corrected her "Don't let a gobstone loose upstairs, it'll head off in random directions. None of the floors are level."

"How many gobstones did you, and your helpers loose?" asked Astoria, peering at the lumpy wall.

"I don't play" said Potter, getting the heavy spanner and thumping the wall and the one next to it; the back wall sounded different.

"It's hollow" said Potter confidently.

"Gouge it" said Daphne. "This is neat. Harry's good at this" she said to Astoria.

Potter dropped the tool back in the pile and cast a small gouging charm on the wall; the whitewash and plaster split, exposing bricks. A second small gouger on the bricks split them, letting in a foul odour of rot.

"Oh" said Potter , coughing "This is where the rot smell comes from"

"Scourgify it before the house reeks" said Daphne.

Potter shoved his wand in the hole and tried something, that didn't work. He stepped back and conjured a clear curtain from the ceiling to the floor around the doorway, with himself on the inside. A few more gouging charms and he stopped, and cast a bubble-head charm. Evidently it reeked worse.

Potter, looking silly, started vanishing the bricks, revealing a wet looking black wooden door with oozes of sludge starting to flow under it into the room. It was the stuff of nightmares. Potter 'scourgified' the sludge, and nothing happened. Then he started vanishing the sludge which just kept oozing out like a stream of filth. Evidently impatient,Potter vanished the door. A ceiling-height tidal wave of black, rotten sludge rushed in though the doorway. Potter , with one worldess gesture somehow magically pushed the filth back for an instant.

Daphne had never seen someone hold back liquid with a spell, and then, he just flicked his wand, only to be overwhelmed by a wave of black sludge. The sludge ruptured the curtain, a torrent of sludge spilling into the room to waist-height. It stank of stagnant water and corruption. Daphne gagged.

Daphne quickly cast a bubble-head charm, while retreating before the foul mess. She looked at Astoria who was gamely vanishing sludge, and cast a Bubble head charm on her.

Astoria stopped casting and shouted a muffled "Thanks"

Potter got up from the floor, covered in black, rot-smelling wet sludge like an effluent-scarecrow. He 'scougify'd' himself then started vanishing the now calf-deep sludge. Ages later, the filth was gone, but the smell was everywhere, and Daphne knew she would never be clean again. Behind where the door had been, was a black, glistening stone passageway.

"Harry, never ever do that again" said Daphne. I will smell this till I die, by my own hand, she thought.

"Sorry" said Potter, and he started casting silently, causing large swathes of … cleanliness, till the passageway was damp stone.

"So there's a passage" said Potter, lighting his wand

"And there was a lot of sludge" said Daphne. "And I think there's a draft."

"Outside" said Harry "It leads outside" he said excitedly. Oh god, he really was the talking dog.

"Well, I need to find a big air-freshening charm, can you and Astoria hold the fort?" asked Daphne.

"I'll put up another curtain" said Harry, casting a conjuration.

"Shame it burst" said Daphne, cancelling her bubble-head charm and sniffing, still the vomit-inducing stench, then recasting her bubble-head charm "Oh it's awful. Do not cancel your bubble." Maybe she could go vomit, she wondered.

A few cleaning charms later, and she felt clean enough to walk upstairs, and clean herself again, and then apparate to the library. There were books of charms on the west shelf, she was sure.

It took some time to find a wide-area air-freshening charm. She apparated down to the front hall and walked down the kitchen stairs, noticing that Kreacher had cleaned them since she waded out of the filth.

There was no sign of Potter or Astoria, so she yelled "Where are you two?"

Astoria came out of the hallway of horror "There's stairs up" she said. "Come see."

Daphne lit her wand and walked down the wet hallway to a set of set steps up on the right side. Potter was messing around at the top of the open-topped stairs.

Daphne waiting at the bottom, wand lit "What do you call this?" she asked.

"The back stairs. There's a back courtyard. It's a mess, and there's an outbuilding that is the back boundary, I think." said Potter, like an idiot.

"The house stinks" said Daphne "I've found a charm, but we need to make sure there's no more of that… stuff."

"I did fall in it" said Potter. Talking dog again.

Daphne nodded and dropped her lumos to scourgify Harry's head. He was no longer totally covered in black sludge. His hair sat like a rooks-nest.

"Ouch" complained Potter.

"You were covered in the stuff" said Daphne. "Clean the rest of the hallway."

Potter came back off the steps. Daphne relit her wand "That's our back door?"

"What's left of it" said Potter.

"Vanish the bits and conjure a solid door" said Daphne.

"Better to transfigure something. There was once was a roof on the stairwell" said Potter. He'd been exploring, evidently.

"Better you go get wood and a door and fix it properly tomorrow" said Daphne.

"The door at the end of the passage?" said Potter, and vanished slime till it was all clean.

"What's behind the warm door?" asked Daphne.

"I think it's the boiler for hot water" said Potter. "It has a chimney above it"

"It's been converted to run on magic" said Daphne.

"I'm not game to open that door, it's wet" said Potter.

"Coward" said Daphne, jokingly. He'd… held back a wave of filth. Reckless idiot.

Potter vanished the slime off the metal door and cast 'alohomora' on it. It opened with a groan.

"Needs oiling" said Potter phatically. It looked like somewhere the Blacks would put a secret torture chamber.

"I'm worried it will be a torture chamber" admitted Daphne.

Potter pulled the door open. A dry, dark room full of glittering black rocks. "It's a coal room" said Potter "The muggles must have had the coal for the house here" he continued.

"Well, that's actually useful" said Daphne. "Heating takes money and this stuff's still here"

"And dry-ish" said Potter , scrunching into the room

"Your shoes are going to be ruined" said Daphne.

"They're already covered in sludge" said Potter, exploring the room of dirty old coal with a lit wand.

"Coal delivery must have dropped the coal in, and then they could use it whenever" said Potter after a moment, seeing something in the darkness.

"Can we get coal delivered?" asked Daphne.

"I'm not sure you're allowed to burn coal in town any more" said Potter "Something about smoke?"

"Well we'll need to make sure the chimney's smoke vanishing charms are all working. How many chimneys do we have anyway?" asked Daphne.

Potter found a wide-mouthed shovel beside the door on the way back out.

"I have no idea. Six, or seven?" said Potter, he shrugged.

"Well those charms work well anyway" said Daphne.

"They might have been fixed first" said Potter. "You never know"

"Well, this might be why the house always smelt of rot" said Daphne hopefully, as Potter shut the coal-room door with a long shuddering groan.

"A door like that would be very safe on the back door" said Daphne, looking at the steel door.

"We'll look in daylight. I'll wait till then, I think before we try the hot door" said Potter.

"Clean the door-frame, come on" said Daphne, and Potter used cutting charms to remove the old hinges and lock and vanished the pieces of junk.

"Not planning on keeping the lock?" asked Daphne, partly joking, as he wanted to keep rust old tools.

"It was rust and slime" said Potter, with a chuckle; he conjured a big oak door, and then cast a permanent sticking charm on it. Daphne tried not to jump back in surprise. He'd just conjured a large oak door from nothingness.

The draft stopped instantly. The passage started to warm up. Potter scourgify'ed the warm door twice and left for the kitchen. Daphne got out of the darkness, extinguished her wand, and with a charm she'd got down to a single gesture cleaning up after Buttercup, cleared up the old doorway, and then, putting maximum effort into it, conjured a door into the hole. Harry cast a permanent sticking charm on it. Daphne cast a scourgify on Harry then said "Lift a foot."

Then she demonstrated by scourfigying her shoe soles. Potter cleaned up as much as that could then apparated back into the kitchen behind the plastic curtain.

He finite-ed his bubble-head charm and sniffed "Ew" he said.

Daphne apparated over to the table where she had the big spellbook open and, with some difficulty cast the odour-clearing charm. The smell receded, like it was the sea and the tide was going out. After five more castings, a lingering odour of rot remained.

"Still a bit rubbish" said Potter, looking at the charm, He read it, and sighed "A bit… hard to pick up tonight."

"Maybe something nice to cover it up?" asked Daphne, and she cast orchardareous, and got some wildflowers, as she usually did. Pansy had given her crap about being so cottage-ey as to have wildflowers come out.

Potter cast the flower conjuring charm and a big bunch of red roses flopped onto the table; full of heady scent. Daphne blinked. Potter's flower summoning charm… was a huge bunch of red roses? He had… that in his soul?

"Red roses?" asked Daphne "Didn't pick you for the red roses kind of wizard."

"My aunt planted them, and I looked after them. And her petunias and lilies." said Potter.

"Why those?"

"My Aunt was named Petunia, my Mother Lily." said Harry "All the girls in mums family are named after flowers."

"Like Pansy" said Daphne, unable to resist.

"Not like Pansy" said Potter, "Though Aunt Petunia's an arse too"

"Kreacher" Daphne called, and Kreacher appeared "Terrible things, Mistress. The terrible smell."

"We're working on it, Kreacher. Put these flowers in vases, and put them on the ground floor" said Daphne.

"The smell is everywhere, Mistress" quailed Kreacher.

"Harry, make more flowers." said Daphne. "I want a bunch for every room."

Potter started casting orchardareous over and over, till the table was covered in bunches of flowers. It was… like having a florist on call. And the roses, Daphne had to admit... smelled heavenly.

"Mistress has shrunk the table back to normal" grovelled Kreacher.

"Kreacher. You have plenty of flowers, put them in vases with water, one in each room" said Daphne firmly.

Kreacher clicked his fingers and vases of various sizes and shapes flew to the table.

Daphne looked critically at the tumble of chairs.

"Those ones" she said, pointing at a straight backed chair "Go in the drawing room; they match the wainscot" Potter waved his wand and stacked those chairs gently.

"Neatly done" said Daphne feeling in a good mood from all the roses. Picking up a chair by hand and repairing it's seat cushion she looked at it carefully "This isn't a dining room chair, and it's not a drawing room chair."

"Bedroom" said Potter "My bedroom chair looks like it, and there's one like it in Regulus's old room"

"Poor master Regulus" moaned Kreacher.

"His stuff mostly fits me" said Potter "A wardrobe of robes, all quite Black family."

"It's a bit... dated and not head of the family style" said Daphne. He was a cheapskate, she realised.

"Fine for shopping trips and things like that" said Potter, sniffing and evidently enjoying the rose-scented air.

Daphne smiled "Nice roses" she said "I think you should keep doing that; roses everywhere"

"Easy enough to do" said Potter, seemingly unbothered.

"So in two days, fresh roses" said Daphne, tilting her head

"As you command, wife" said Potter. That sounded like sarcasm, so Daphne apparated away.

The bathroom was a tad cold, and smelled of drains, but Daphne re-cast the air-freshener and the room was… sniff, odourless. Daphne stripped off and showered, and wrapped up in a towelling robe, and ran a bath, and poured in the emergency bath bomb, and all the nice scents she felt the bath could take. Time for a soak.

Once her toes and fingers were thoroughly pruned up, Daphne got out and dried off, and re-robed in the towelling robe and went to her room, where a large vase had a dozen red roses, and her room smelt mostly divine… and a hint of rot. Daphne decided her chaise needed lying on.

A bit later Astoria came in via her bedroom door, with wet hair combed back.

"I will never forget that smell" said Tori "Though 'Harry's roses are good. Kreacher's been putting them literally everywhere. Tori sniffed "Your room's got more roses."

"It's bigger. You're in the blue room right?"

"Yes, it's the tiny one on the front wall down on the second level" said Tori.

"I wouldn't want you to… get lost" said Daphne. Being mistress of all you surveyed has its perks, she thought happily.

"I have forty-seven bedrooms at my manor. And I have a pool." said Tori, arrogantly.

"A pool?"

"It's heat-able. Apparently." said Tori.

"Oh god. Swimming all year round. Have I ever said how much I admire you?" said Daphne.

"Okay, I'll get the elves to start the heater." said Tori. "Are you getting dressed? Or is this your new look?"

"I was worried I'd never smell anything again."

"I just had two showers." said Tori. "The bathtub on that floor's not the greatest."

"Oddly, my husband cleaned mine as a priority" said Daphne "After his own, selfish prat."

Tori flopped on her bed. "Oy – this is comfy mattress. Tested it thoroughly yet?"

"Shut up about that" said Daphne.

After a while, Tori said "When's dinner?"

"Seven"

'Oh. It's quarter-to"

"Get out" said Daphne and go up to find a formal robe.

She and Tori arrived at the dining room a tiny bit late to find Potter waiting in respectable robes.

"Ladies" said Potter.

"You were early" said Astoria.

"He's dressed properly, and found the back door. I've also found a use for him as a flower supplier" said Daphne. He could have praise for doing things, she thought.

"Thank you dear" said Harry sarcastically, and he got out a small gold key and slid it across the table to Daphne "A copy of my Potter vault key. You're added to the black vault access list. The goblins will open the door for you."

"A Potter vault key?" said Daphne.

"You might need money, for example, to hire someone to re-paper the front hall." said Potter airly.

"What's my allowance?" asked Daphne.

"You know what we can afford. Spend less than that" said Potter.

Daphne looked confused "Why do you keep trusting me" she asked.

"Because you keep not betraying me" said Potter simply. "If I can't trust my wife, who can I trust."

"Your sister-in-law?" suggested Astoria. Who clearly wanted free flowers and trips to Harrods, lazy rich brat.

"Mrs Malfoy, I trust you to spend your husbands' money, and make more using that Greengrass business sense" said Potter.

Daphne looked at the ceiling "Tori, don't get a swelled head; Harry has no stake in your success or failure."

"I do actually" said Potter "I rather hope my rich sister-in-law gets even richer, so she can take my wife shopping, using Malfoy money."

Daphne shook her head and looked at Potter "Cheap shot Potter."

"I am, my intelligent wife tells me, a man of limited means" said Potter. And that was a very backhanded compliment.

"If you can fix the back door fiasco tomorrow, you're probably going to do really well fixing our rental properties." said Daphne. "Though nobody would live in that sort of filth"

"Well, we might have some uninhabited properties too. Fixed up, we'd get income from them" said Potter.

"I wasn't paying attention to properties without tenants" admitted Daphne.

"Well, after I've fixed the back door"

"And put up paintings for you know what" said Daphne.

"And that" admitted Potter, not looking at all remorseful.

"And organised a family portrait photo" said Daphne.

"You can give me a list of urgent repairs, and I'll get on it" finished Potter.

"And then, you're going to look at the vacant properties" said Daphne.

"And get me some of that cleaning stuff. How's that sink now?" asked Astoria.

"It's cleaned up. Still a little scratched" said Daphne.

"Does it need replaced?"

"Just the taps" said Daphne. "The loo's almost respectable."

"Well, looks like after dinner I'm on stained porcelain duty" said Potter.

"I can do that" said Daphne.

"And mess your hands up, no thank you" said Potter.

"How do muggles do it?" asked Daphne, wondering what Potter was on about- she curried a horse daily, and mucked her stall out. A little muggle potions work wouldn't kill her.

"They wear rubber gloves" said Harry. "I just can't imagine you in pink rubber gloves cleaning sinks and loos."

"I could" said Daphne.

"You're far too aristocratic to do that" said Potter. "I'll do it."

Daphne blinked. What the hell was that?

"Sis, was that a compliment?" asked Astoria.

"I think it might have been" said Daphne feeling oddly confused.

"Look you're both capable witches, but I'd feel guilty making either of you do muggle style cleaning" said Potter.

"And you are fine doing it" said Daphne, wondering where he got off.

"I've been cleaning since I could push a rag" said Potter blandly.

Astoria went home to order her elves about – promising a hot pool by tomorrow, the day after at the latest.

-==0==-

When Daphne woke up the next morning, she felt disoriented. The room she was in was warm and full of the heady scent of red roses. She opened her eyes, and yes, it was her room at Grimmauld place. She got up and the loo smelt of roses too. The vase of roses sat on a little shelf that had seemed pointless before the addition of a vase of roses.

The dining room smelt of roses – there was huge bouquet of roses as a table centre. Daphne sat down at the right-hand side of the head, and took a plate to get the larger share of bacon. Potter was a little late for breakfast, so he got left one measly rasher.

She sorted mail as she ate, and handed over Potter's actual correspondence, and bundled the business mail up to deal with after breakfast.

"I'll um… do the doors and stuff" said Potter eloquently after breakfast.

Daphne apparated to her office, and inhaled. Kreacher had place a small vase on the mantelpiece. The office smelt of roses, and underlying it… the scent of Potter lingered. Still, better than the now fading eu-de-rot.

The mindless business of correspondence sucked up an hour, and Daphne apparated from the office to the kitchen to floo to … 'Greengrass Estate' and an hour with Buttercup, who Daphne noticed did have a few grey hairs on her muzzle.

"Hello Buttercup. I love you" said Daphne unselfconsciously. Buttercup nudged her.

After a gentle ride, Daphne curried Buttercup, who, she realised, was starting to get old.

That meant Buttercup got a little extra molasses in her oats. Her ears pricked up.

Daphne dropped by the manor, used the shower and met her mother in the hall.

"You exist" said mummy "Here to see Buttercup?"

"Just finishing showering" admitted Daphne. "How are you and father?"

Mummy sighed "He works all day all week. Accounts, all day, accounts and tenants. I suggested I could visit tenants, and he looked at me like I was mad." she said.

You're too… European for them thought Daphne. Daddy's tenants were a… well they were mostly old and set in their ways. And having mummy take up 'work' after years as daddy's… well … beautiful European wife who made potions… they wouldn't take it well. Daphne had been tolerated at first, then accepted as the heiress learning the family business from the ground up. A business, Daphne thought that had more than doubled in size as she had Potter's – Blacks' morass of sulky chiselling tenants to cope with. But they hadn't had any maintenance in two decades, so that was to be expected. Working hard, she might get the Blacks' tenancies on its metaphorical feet in a few years.

"What news from your husband?" asked Mummy.

"We found the back door" said Daphne "It's a secret project." Until the mess is gone.

Mummy looked smug. Daphne, moved for some reason, kissed mummy's cheek, and left for more property management. Is it strange to miss one's mother when one is a grown woman?

Astoria interrupted her floo calls an hour later, stepping into the kitchen through the fireplace.

"We should put the chairs away" said Astoria. "And tidy up."

Daphne stood up and brushed her knees off, and took the break on offer.

"How's the pool?"

"Hot tomorrow."

Chairs put away in the right rooms, the kitchen looked… more like a serious cooking space. And the drawing room chairs matched the wainscot, and the drawing room looked… more complete for it.

Daphne summoned some parchment to act as stand-ins and started discussing where pictures could go up on the drawing room walls with Astoria.

Potter came in a bit later. "What?" he asked.

"Deciding where to put pictures" said Daphne.

"I've found places that sell old doors and things" said Potter "They'll look appropriate."

"I still want a steel door" said Daphne.

"I think we want to check the back doorway now the sun's up." said Potter.

Daphne and Astoria were underwhelmed with the back courtyard. "It's filthy" said Daphne.

Potter cleaned up with some rather impressive vanishing, leaving dirt, and twisted chunks of iron, and a few big grey metal sausages. The size of school trunks.

"Steel, it's hard to vanish" said Potter.

"What are they, and how did they get in our courtyard?" asked Daphne.

Harry looked at the mess, and had some sort of epiphany.

"Oh" said Potter "These are bombs, from the war."

So he had to explain what bombs were. And then he vanished one, and was left panting. "Far too hard" he said.

"Well, cut it open and vanish the fireworks powder" suggested Daphne.

Potter shook his head, then cut one open, vanished the yellow sludge and the little prickly bits and was left with odd looking metal bowls.

"Well, we've got spare metal to transfigure" said Potter.

Daphne tried not to groan at his hoarding instincts, and glared at him.

Potter dropped that, and walked across the dirt to the grey wooden door of the back wall. And had to repair it before it could open. He went in to have a look.

He poked his head out the door "This is a building for horse carriages. There are three."

The mud was impassable for anyone not willing to be bogged. Potters' shoes were more mud-clogs now. Potter must have realised the problem, as the cast a cleaning charm with a single flick of his wand that parted the mud, revealing a stone path inches below ground level.

Daphne walked over to the 'coach-house' and ventured in, followed by Astoria. There were some quite dusty carriages in there, and Daphne and Astoria made a verbal inventory of the carriages and accessories. Potter looked clueless once again, like a talking dog.

Potter had gone into the empty carriage-space and dragged the back door open.

"What?" said Daphne, coming over.

Potter stepped back inside "It's the back street behind Grimmauld place. There must be muggle repelling charms on it. I'm certain the muggles can't see it."

"Well this is interesting, but a bit useless" said Daphne.

"Not completely" said Potter, "If we changed the muggle repelling charms around to only repel when the doors were closed... we could get deliveries here."

"Easier to just have a muggle repelling charm on the doors, and another on our side the building" said Daphne "and it's a coach-house, the coaches are very neglected."

"Are they damaged?"

"Just insects and age" said Daphne.

"I wonder If we could sell them" said Potter.

"Sell them?" asked Daphne.

"Well we're never going to use them, and they're taking up space we could use. Our neighbours have cars in theirs."

"Cars?"

"Horseless carriages" said Potter "They were all over the street outside Harrods."

"Oh those" said Daphne. "Can you drive one?"

"No" said Potter "A problem for later"

-==0==-

Daphne had done Muggle-repelling charms for NEWT's, so Potter dispelled the one that was there, and Daphne put one on the doors, and the other on the back wall. Then another on the back of Grimmauld place, and another on the staircase.

Daphne went back to work on the accounts, and eventually changed for dinner. She had to use Kreacher to find Potter, who was messing about in the library in dirty clothes, and she told him to wash for dinner. He needed supervision, and the library after he left, smelt of sweaty Potter. And roses.

Daphne ate dinner, ensured Potter hadn't stabbed himself with a fork or something; he claimed to be 'going to make a door' after dinner, and Daphne took the opportunity to go see a few tenants with extreme problems. She got home to the office late, wrote letters to the repair-wizards that she had used for daddy, and went to bed via the shower.

The next day, having spent all morning visiting tenants, she gave herself a treat, and went to the drawing room to plan rennovations; she had a list of gifts she could use, and Astoria came to help. Or butt in, but today it felt like help.

Potter arrived unexpectedly, with a long plank, and he decided to sit in the drawing room, slicing up the plank with a cutting charm. That caught Daphne's attention, and she watched, hoping he was doing something sensible. When he went and got a photo album that he handled with great reverence, it became clearer. With great concentration he transfigured a piece of wood into a picture frame that fitted the first picture in the album.

Daphne smiled and nodded.

Potter rummaged in his jeans and handed her a tiny book of colours that the muggles had printed with names and numbers for a fairly comprehensive rainbow of colours ; he said "Pick colours for rooms and things, I'll colorvaria things."

Daphne accio'ed some parchment.

Astoria started suggesting colours.

Harry went off with the picture frames and the album. Daphne assumed he was finally going to clean up the smut in his room.

Some time later, Potter came back with a framed photograph, that he casually stuck to the wall.

Daphne looked over to see who it was and had to do a double-take. It was their formally posed wedding photograph. Framed in an old gilt frame. And they looked… antiques, like the frame.

"That's us" she says, rather dumbfounded that Potter would just casually put it on the wall.

"We look the part" Potter says blandly. "Dennis is coming someday soon to take some muggle pictures for me, and I seem to remember that he can choose when he develops them if they are magical or not; we can get that family portrait done the same day; and with another frame.

"Get the family one professionally framed" said Daphne "It's in the front hall, everyone will see it"

"Diagon alley it is" said Potter. "The doors are coming tomorrow, and the new roof for the stairs might be here this afternoon. Oh, and I made a metal door for the top of the stairs"

Daphne shook her head in disbelief; he had performed like a professional repair wizard "And you can't be bothered with the business?"

"I know nothing" said Harry "I need things explained." Daphne was so tempted to make a sarcastic remark but … Potter looked sincere. For once.

The next day, Daphne got to go swimming in the heated pool after lunch. It's great, though she's tired afterwards.

Tori is obviously far more tired; and Daphne ends up taking her to bed and ordering her house-elf to bring her food.

"You look like mummy in swimwear" said Tori.

"I do not." said Daphne. And she thanks Merlin that Sarah from Harrods didn't talk her into muggle swimwear. The least indecent muggle swimming costumes are skimpy… as skimpy as the thing Fleur wore for the Tri-Wizard tournament. And the most indecent cover less than lingerie. The utterly unmentionable parts are covered but… she's a respectable witch, and one's respectable woolly swimwear covers one's legs and shoulders.

More visits to unpaying tenants result in a few difficult conversations with tenants, who Daphne can't fault for not paying, yet wants to pay. Repair wizards are sent letters.

After a second day of swimming at her sisters private, heated pool Daphne wonders if some less… constricting swimwear that doesn't flop like wet blankets might… be more pleasant to lie about it in while one gets one's breath back.

Perks finally replies to her last letter.

The news is not good. Squatters have occupied all of the Black family properties, including the Chateau. 'I was set upon by the squatters dogs' wrote Perks. Daphne groans in dismay.

She gets back to accounts; the mindless tedium of it eats up the day.

Dennis came to visit the next day, and he and Potter did noisy things in the carriage house for hours. Daphne just accidentally was working in the kitchen that day, Dennis left by floo hours later.

Potter has taken delivery of doors, and put them up, but they don't swing, they scrape.

On Sunday, by lunchtime at least, the doors are all working properly.

Daphne asks Potter over lunch. "You fixed the doors?"

"I got um, Mr Weasley to come and help. He's good at buildings" said Potter "And.. I got a roof on the stairs."

"Good" said Daphne.

"What's the deal with our tenants?" asked Potter.

"Many of them are not paying, or did not pay, or have old tenancies with difficult terms" said Daphne.

"Difficult terms?" asked Potter, looking like she'd asked him to do arithmancy.

"Some tenants have an agreement that specifies annual rent, but not when it is paid." explained Daphne.

"Oh. So you have to add it up over a year?" asked Potter. He was a talking dog, he really was.

"Some have agreed sums per month and year" said Daphne "So they need monthly totals, based on the date of signing."

"Oh. That sounds… quite fiddly" said Potter.

"Well one tenant has a lease so ancient they can pay in corn" said Daphne.

"Um, why corn? I mean… you can only eat so much" asked Potter.

"That's wheat. Before the muggles went to the americas, it was called corn" said Daphne.

"Oh… and we sell the wheat?"

"They pay in coin. They current price of corn. The contract doesn't specify if it's the current wholesale price or not, so they're paying wholesale prices" said Daphne. Bloody Throckmortons.

"Is that once a year too?" asked Potter.

"Yes"

-==0==-

By the next evening, the drawing room walls and ceiling are respectable; Potter has evidently pulled his wand out of his buttocks. The room needs new curtains. Daphne adds it to the list of things to do tomorrow; the room needs to look respectable for the family photograph. Potter might be actually be useful at rennovations, but not a self-starter.

Which reminds, her, so she writes a letter to Aunt Andromeda, communicating the plan, and asking to coordinate a visit, and that bloody owl of Potters bites her multiple times before accepting the letter. At breakfast, Andromeda has replied. She will turn up on a few hours notice with little Edward.

Daphne reads through the latest catalogue of complaints from the tenants, and after breakfast, floo-called the increasingly familiar plumbers, to get the hot-water service restored to Mrs Chaffworth, of Bath. Who can't take one at the moment. After sending off a few letters, including one to the muggle-born that is doing odd jobs, Daphne dresses to go out. As she's always photographed, she puts on a french robe, and a cloak over the top, slathers on foundation to hide any expression of annoyance at reporters, and… that darling little hat. The second one. Daphne floos to Harolds Haberdashery and Drapers, with luck she can avoid reporters completely.

Harold's is, as usual, a bastion of calm, traditional, quiet service. Daphne gets a staff member's attention and advances to a clear spot on the counter.

"Mrs Black" says an elderly wizard. "I'm Jorge."

"I need new curtains for my drawing room. They were dark green with black fringes." said Daphne, taking out the notes of dimensions. "Six curtains, windows fifteen feet tall, five and half wide. I'll want swags and tails as well."

"And what would madam like for material, colour and pattern?" asked Jorge.

"Well, I was thinking to just replace." said Daphne "They … were rather old and … not cared for. They were velvet." Till the doxies ate what the sun hadn't rotted.

Jorge looked Daphne up and down. "Madam has excellent taste" he said, leaving an implication hanging. Daphne felt suddenly nervous. Would Potter be annoyed if the curtains were… a little more expensive?

"What… about brocade?" asked Daphne.

"Well, we do have some brocade in a dark green" said Jorge, "I'll go get it."

Jorge left the counter, went out the back door into the 'back room' and was gone some time. He returned levitating a large roll of dark fabric. It had an intricate pattern woven into it. Jorge unrolled it on the counter, and Daphne eyed the pattern – and realised that the pattern included runes that spelt out words. Daphne wrinkled her nose in concentration… 'tradition increasing to sun stone tradition increasing to sun stone tradition blood heritage increasing to sun stone…' It was, Daphne realised partly a preservation charm, and partly… honouring tradition and blood heritage. And Potter could not read runes. Sod him, I'm buying it.

"I'll have that" said Daphne "The woven in runes prevent sun damage?" Jorge nodded, expressionlessly.

"Lets see some trims then?" asked Daphne.

After a fairly self-indulgent fifteen minutes, Daphne settled on a black fringe with a Greek key pattern woven into it, that had fire-retarding runes on the back side.

"That" said Daphne feeling very sure. Jorge got some parchment from a pile behind the counter and started to sketch a plan, then write dimensions, then he laboriously calculated a cost. Daphne would have rolled her eyes, had she worse manners, a calculating machine would have let the old fossil calculate that in under a minute. Daphne paid by signing the quote, and then had to go to Gringotts to get the seventy galleons it would cost. Daphne was just leaving when Dennis Creevy came into the store, paused to giver Daphne a wholly inappropriate little bow, then familiarly called out "Jorge, I need eight yards of velvet for a backdrop."

"Mr Creevy" said Jorge. "A colour?"

"Something in an autumn tone" said Dennis. "Portrait for the Wotheringhams, nothing I've got suits the witch of the house."

"Do you do a lot of portraiture?" asked Daphne.

Dennis turned and looked at her, and his face contorted into an awkward smile. "Mrs… um. Black" he said "I um… a lot these days. I um… did serious photography."

Daphne went to Gringotts, where the goblin teller was exceedingly rude, and she had to wait for mine-cart to go to the Black vault. The goblins were rather against Potter still, the whole robbing Gringotts thing, despite the compensation they'd been paid.

The Black vault was a huge mess, but there was plenty of room, as the space where a gigantic pile of galleons should be, was occupied by a merely huge pile. Daphne took some in a sack, and decided to check out the jewellery collection. And the nasty little goblin could bally well wait.

When Daphne got back to the store, Jorge took the payment and said, rather unexpectedly, "We'll have that for you tomorrow, Mrs Black." Which was a lot prompter than one expected a Diagon Alley shopkeeper to be.

At breakfast the next day there actually was a parcel from Harolds. Daphne was going to the office anyway after breakfast, so she opened the parcel in the drawing room and the stack of curtains expands into a vast dark green pile. Daphne vanishes what passes for the remains of the swags and tails, and spends twenty minutes getting one curtain up. Its… good. She leaves it to do later, and goes to the office. Kreacher pops in before she's done with the day's accounts on the calculator, and asks "Mistress... the good curtains. May Kreacher put them up?"

"Kreacher that would be very helpful" says Daphne. Kreacher bobbed but doesn't move.

"Kreacher, go put the curtains up" says Daphne and he vanishes with a pop.

After leaving the office to go see Buttercup, Daphne goes to check on Kreacher's progress. And Kreacher has put up all the curtains, and the swags and tails, and tied the curtains back. The room looks… rather a lot more elegant. Daphne goes to see Buttercup with a spring in her step. The Drawing room is adequate for a family photograph.

At lunch, Potter receives the news of a completed drawing room with a nod, and floo-calls Dennis after lunch, who apparently can do tomorrow. Daphne decides that she should visit her poor sister. And have a swim.

-==0==-

Daphne dressed for the family portrait after lunch.

Teddy is rather adorable, if a tad squirmy.

Dennis arranges them and takes several photos, on the couch, in front of their wedding photograph.

Afterwards Dennis presses an album on her. "My ... proper work" he says "This is my portfolio. You can drop it off at the studio."

Daphne looks at the portfolio after dinner. It's… photographs of war heroes, looking distraught, scarred, holding hands with missing people. Every page Daphne turns the next photo is more heart-rending than the last. And there are purebloods in the portfolio too. Mrs Flint is there, looking utterly bereft, standing in front of two coffins. It's about loss, Daphne realises. Not the politics of the war.

The next afternoon, instead of a swim Daphne takes the portfolio to Diagon Alley, and finds Creevy Brothers Photography, a small shop tucked into a corner near Knockturn Alley. The rent will be cheap, thinks Daphne, and then. We've got a vacant store in a better location.

Daphne opens the door, a bell tinkles, and she goes in. The room is decorated with framed photographs, there are chairs and a couch for waiting, and a back room. Many of the photographs are wedding photographs, quite a few of witches and wizards in very traditional formal costumes. Then Daphne saw it, over the door to the back. Her wedding photograph, Potter sitting like a statue, Daphne herself… dignified.

Dennis comes out of the back room in muggle clothes and a hard-wearing but stained apron.

"Mrs Black." he says. "How did you find them?"

"They were… strong" said Daphne.

Dennis nods. "That's the point" he says.

Daphne hands him the portfolio. He's not actually a wedding photographer, Daphne realises.

"Um, would you like a proper photograph?" asked Dennis.

"Proper?" asked Daphne. What in Merlins name could he mean?

"Well there are a lot of... glamorous photos of you at events" said Dennis "But I think that… you didn't um… marry Harry 'cos you wanted to, did you?"

"It was arranged" said Daphne.

"It's just. I could do a real one of you. Show… what happened" said Dennis, and he clearly had an idea.

"I will not pose in a revealing costume" said Daphne.

Dennis went red in the face. "Oh … god. People ask me to do those."

"People?" asked Daphne.

"Want… photos of themselves… doctored a bit to give to… other people." said Dennis awkwardly "Not… my thing."

Daphne relaxed.

"So I charge a lot for those" he added. "I was thinking a proper photo telling your story."

"How?"

"Well" said Dennis "I can charm a pair of mirrors with a gemino charm, Each reflects the other. The camera sees something that's not there."

"And that would be in my photo why?"

"Well, at school, you dressed… really conservatively, never stood out. Now you're a… an unwilling celebrity, and married to Harry. You um… just to be sure, you and Harry weren't secretly together at Hogwarts right?"

"No" said Daphne coldly.

"Right" said Dennis, and for some reason stood taller. "So, the photo for you, I had this idea, of two witches, looking at each other in the mirror. You, at school, and you, all dressed up like an old-school pureblood, but in like… I dunno gold chains or something?"

"Trust me they wouldn't be gold" said Daphne drily.

"Well if you've got school uniform I can do the first photo tomorrow, and the last the day after.

Dennis came the next afternoon with a trunk of equipment, and set up in her bedroom, with the camera looking over her shoulder at the dresser mirror. He unpacked umbrellas filled with glowing crystals on stands, that he arranged to re-light her bedroom, making her dresser look rather… gothic.

Daphne took her school uniform to the nearest spare bedroom and changed, and went to see her photographer.

"Oh. School robes. Yeah" said Dennis "I was imagining like.. you were going to Hogsmeade. you should look happy and carefree." If Potter was dead she thought darkly.

But Daphne got a skirt she hadn't worn since sixth year and a jumper.

"Um, school tie and shirt?" asked Dennis "The thing is it'll look more like ordinary, um muggle school uniform"

"Why would I wear that?"

"Well it's … this would show people that you're just a schoolgirl" said Dennis. I'm married.

Daphne rummaged and found a jumper and shirt, and her Slytherin house tie, and went off to change. Daphne looked in the mirror to check her outfit. The girl in the mirror of the spare room was a Slytherin senior student, and she looked… resigned.

Daphne went back to her bedroom and Dennis cheered up "That's right" he said "Now, try to remember before the war, feeling excited about magic and like you're secure and happy?"

Daphne forced on a fake smile.

"Hmm. Nevermind we won't do that one" said Dennis.

"What one?"

"Well this photo was going to be for your parents. I know Hogwarts doesn't do school photos but it's be… like to remember you by as a sixth year." said Dennis. I was already doomed by then thought Daphne.

Dennis unrolled some black velvet, clamped it to a bar on an easel and had a featureless backdrop, that Daphne stood in front of. Dennis turned the camera to face her and fiddled with it.

"Now, just think of some time you felt safe and happy." said Dennis "Like you were casting a Patronus," he added, and unbidden, the memory of Potter's big stag, the faint taste of nutmeg came rushing back to her, and she smiled momentarily – and the camera went click.

"Right" said Dennis, giving her a cheery grin "Well done. You could be a model."

Daphne glowered at Dennis. Underwear photographs no doubt.

"Because you have an expressive face, and can change expressions when I ask" said Dennis. "And you practically model for stores already. They did name the hat after you."

"The hat?"

"The little brown one that sits on an angle. The Daphne" said Dennis "Only you're wearing the one like a little boat to The Alley now."

Daphne crossed her arms. "What are we doing?"

"Okay. Now I want you to sit at your dresser, and um… reach out to the mirror. Like you're trying to pull someone's hands to like, save them?" said Dennis.

Daphne sat down and the dresser, dressed to go to Hogsmeade, in her Slytherin tie, and held her arms up awkwardly.

"Um... wedding rings off" asked Dennis "this is younger you. And they can't be in shot."

Daphne had an idea "The engagement ring in shot." said Daphne "To symbolise the contract."

"Do you have it?" asked Dennis "It could be on the dresser."

Daphne rolled her eyes. The contract had been kept in Daddy's cabinet till it was given to Potter. Who… would have put it in the office. Daphne apparated off, and the bloody thing was in the bottom drawer of the desk. She apparated back into her bedroom to find Dennis hiding behind her chaise with his wand out, shaking.

"It's just me" said Daphne.

"Sorry. The war" said Dennis, standing up and swallowing, and wiping his eyes. Daphne tried not to think about that.

Daphne put the contract on the dresser, arranged the green and black ribbons to be facing the mirror, and put her engagement ring – not that there'd been an engagement, next to it. Her wedding ring she put in her skirt pocket.

Dennis, visible in the mirror held his arms out like he was pulling someone out of thin air "Like this" he said.

After a minute of sitting awkwardly wit her arms up Daphne asked "Should I smile?"

"No" said Dennis "Just… do you do, just letting yourself go, feeling … how you felt at the time?"

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"So um… feel upset?" asked Dennis. Daphne glared at him through the mirror.

"No, not a glare. Look, if you're not comfortable doing this, I can work out a new photo. It's just… you were sold off. I've seen all the stuff about it being traditional, and there being a war on and all, but… look how it made you feel, when you first found out?"

Daphne exhaled, and remembered mummy and daddy telling her they had a plan. It had… she'd assumed the plan hadn't involved sacrificing her life. But it had.

"Who am I reaching out to?" asked Daphne.

"Oh, that'll be older you, dressed formally" said Dennis. Oh. Despair meets misery. That will look jolly thought Daphne, and she tried to reach out, with her feelings at the time.

Dennis ducked out of sight and the camera went click.

"Great" said Dennis and Daphne put her hands on her lap.

"What outfit will the second photograph require?" asked Daphne.

"Well, some sort of formal pureblood outfit. You could use your wedding dress, or not – maybe something formal and stuffy. I suppose you've got loads of jewellery, right?"

"Jewellery?"

"A pair of the biggest bracelets you've got, the biggest necklace, and gold chain to go to jewellery boxes. It's symbolic of the chains holding you down" said Dennis, utterly casually mentioning her distinct lack of freedom.

Daphne went to the Black family vault the next morning and got some huge, dire bracelets that featured a lot of cut jet, and, creatively, a woven golden torc. The ends of the torc were not, surprisingly ravens, but skulls. It was rather grisly. There actually were enough plain gold necklaces to stand in for the 'gold chains' Dennis had wanted. After lunch, Daphne checked her wardrobe, and the only suitable garment was her wedding dress, which meant getting out that underwear. The gold torc didn't clash too horribly, and Daphne put on sensible shoes… which mean the hem dragged, so she had to use stupid six-inch heels. She did, proudly not have the bloody stupid wedding shoes on though. They could rot in the wardrobe for all she cared. The Bracelets clashed with the style and colour, looking like the prisoners shackles Dennis had thought of.

Dennis quickly set up, and this time he put an easel in front of the second mirror, and gemino-charmed the mirror to reflect Daphne's dresser mirror. And then vice-versa. And onto the easel, Dennis unrolled a large photograph… the one they'd taken yesterday. 'Young' Daphne looked distraught, and the sight of the contract, the ring… Daphne's stomach curdled thinking about it. She dashed to the loo, and lost her breakfast, and nearly stained her dress. She strode back into her bedroom feeling irritated, and glared down at Dennis.

"Um… you really look the part" he said.

Dennis helped her set up the chains, and all she had to do was reach up and touch her fingertips to the mirror where her other photo was reaching. Then Dennis suggested rotating her hands, like the two Daphne's were really trying to pull one another to safety.

Dennis took several photographs, trying different encouragements, finally saying "Just… imagine you're going to spend the day with Harry?" Bugger that! thought Daphne.

And the camera went click.

Dennis owl-posted the photo, already framed and Daphne unshrank it in her bedroom and hung it on the wall. A second photo, of Daphne looking so young, wasn't framed. 'For your parents' he'd written on it. Daphne eyed the framed photo.

Two witches stared at each other across the boundary of a dressing table mirror. One a schoolgirl in almost dressed for classes, the other, older and heavily made up, her jewellery, heavy bracelets, torc like chains, and thin chains of gold attach her bracelets to snuff-boxes on the dresser. Daphne sat at her writing desk and composed a letter for Dennis.

'Mr Creevy,

Excellent work, I require a second copy of the completed work.

Daphne Black'

Daphne folded the letter, dropped in ten galleons, and sealed the letter with green wax. The bloody owl savaged her repeatedly before taking the letter and flying off.

Mummy and daddy could have the final photo, of misery and suffering. Tracey could have the photo of 'going to Hogsmeade to buy sweets and parchment' Daphne.

-==0==-

Potter received photographs of the carriage from Dennis via owl post. Daphne tried not to react; Dennis had done a project for her in the interim. And Dennis was Harry's friend. Or at least, acquaintance who does photography. Potter wrote a letter offering the carriages for sale to 'Christies' who are apparently a muggle auction broker of some repute, and while his letter is conceptually interesting, it's nearly illegible, so Daphne rewrote it. Potter mailed it using muggle post, and arranged for incoming post to go to a box somewhere.

And the month's Gringotts statement has Potter taking out fifty galleons. Which is odd, as he never takes money out.

At lunch Daphne asks "Potter, you took out fifty galleons. And you almost never make withdrawals, what was it for?"

Potter goes a bit red in the face and looks at the floor. Oh, he spent it on Miss Weasley then.

"I um… went to the lawyer" said Potter, in a mumble.

Oh… he was wasting money trying to get out of the contract. He really was the stupidest man alive.

"And?" asked Daphne, coldly.

"I got Mr Davis to check about the tenancy agreements. The one that pays in corn" said Potter, staring at the floor "I thought I could fix it."

"And that cost us more than they pay in rent per year. Congratulations. Good ideas like that will have the Black family destitute." snapped Daphne. Traceys' dad was officially in her bad books now too for taking fifty galleons from her idiot Gryffindor husband.

"Sorry" said Potter very quietly. Well, he sounded contrite.

Several days later, Potter came to see her in the office. He had a grin on his face, and a bundle of mail in his hand. "We got mail" said Potter.

Mail from Christies, apropos to their sale of coaches. They desperately want Mr Black to come see them in person to discuss a possible sale.

And Potter bit his lip then asked Daphne to come with him. That does seem interesting, so Daphne put on a sensible muggle dress and her muggle boots, and Potter wore a good suit from Harrods. Daphne pressed him into the Slytherin tie. What she wants, thought Daphne in a moment of spite, is a photograph of Potter in a suit and Slytherin tie. Like this outfit. She'd put it… in the Drawing room. And a copy in her bedroom too.

Christies is nice enough, in a rather muggle way. The auctioneer from Christies has found an expert on coaches, who politely tells them his coaches aren't special, and quite common designs at the time, but very rare now, and to expect a hundred thousand pounds. They want to take the carriages, take their own photos, and auction them in two months. Maybe sooner, if some of the collectors they contact want to make an offer.

Daphne looked at Harry filled with sarcasm, and when they leave Christies and has to say "You idly say, let's sell this junk, and we're going to make twenty thousand galleons?"

"We've made no money yet" Potter replied, and he grinned a crooked grin. It has more than made up for the legal advice fiasco, she has to admit to herself. He's still getting socks.

After they got home, there was a huge parcel in the kitchen; Kreacher explained that the little filthy mud-blood came and dropped it off. Potter took a peek, and said 'it's the family photo.' Potter floated it upstairs carefully and unwrapped it. In the photograph, Potter looks fairly dignified, Daphne looks proud, Andromeda looks happy and Teddy's hair was changing colour. In the background you can just see Potter and Daphne's wedding photo. Potter held the frame up and Daphne sticking-charmed it to the wall when she was happy with the height and location.

Potter and Daphne have to step back and look at the picture. It looked… like it belongs on the wall. If you didn't know Potter and Daphne don't hug, let alone kiss, they'd look like a family. Daphne's chest feels… she feels proud of this. And Teddy is a very delightful child. And Dennis Creevy is an actual artist. The wedding photo in the background is, she's fairly sure the stylistic signature of Dennis Creevy, and rather clever. And if idiots think Teddy's their child, well, they're idiots.

Daphne goes to see Andromeda and Teddy that afternoon and got talking over tea.

Andromeda is so… normal. She's a pureblood, and a Black, and a grandmother. And loves Teddy, and more oddly, is extremely fond of Potter.

After Daphne has explained about her recent successes with tenants, and talked about the family photo fairly proudly, Andromeda puts Teddy to bed, and kisses his head and goes back to the sitting room and sits. She points on finger imperiously at a chair and Daphne sat. She's about to get down to brass tacks thinks Daphne.

"Do you have a lover?" asks Andromeda. Daphne freezes. "No" she croaked.

"Homosexual?"

"No."

"Well, I urge you to consider Harry. He was brought up as a muggle, and had a horrific time at school, but he's a good man." said Andromeda.

"Consider taking my husband as a lover?" asked Daphne.

"It's quite respectable" said Andromeda. Daphne felt that was quite enough sarcasm.

"It's an arranged marriage. I don't love him." said Daphne.

"Well, he's available, tall, dark, handsome, and has plenty of magical power." said Andromeda.

"He loathes me" said Daphne.

"He doesn't loathe you. He … he doesn't think of his own happiness."

"The Weasley girl!"

"Who seized him at a shameful Gryffindor Quidditch victory celebration. Honestly, what were the Slytherin team doing for six years!"

"Potter has … nearly professional skill at Quidditch." admitted Daphne "And Draco Malfoy was just not in his league."

"In every sense of the word." said Andromeda "My nephew was an embarrassment. I expected my sister's children to be spoilt brats, but he didn't even have the skill to even be competently evil. I'm rather pleased Harry put him in Azkaban. Away from your sister."

Daphne nodded "I… agree, and… Pot- Harry and I agree on that. My sister is still convinced he is a romantic figure."

"Is she simple?" asked Andromeda bluntly.

Daphne indignantly said "My Sister is just… a little silly. She's… she's been cosseted."

"And why?" asked Andromeda, pulling herself up into an intimidating glare. Daphne swallowed awkwardly, aware that this witch was a true Black witch, and sister of Bellatrix LeStrange.

"I shan't say" said Daphne.

"Well your loyalty is an asset" said Andromeda, and she paused, "Harry values loyalty over anything else. He's had two best friends, and one's let him down."

"What?" Two best friends? Potter has many friends.

"No my story to tell. I have a different question to ask you? How does a young pureblood witch get such a figure? Your mother is a beauty, it's true... but the magazines from France. 'Most beautiful teen Witch?'"

"The evening dress photograph is doctored." said Daphne. Andromeda nodded.

"The wedding dress though?"

"It's a nice dress." said Daphne, feeling rather proud of the dress, and that no actual corseting was required.

"My Sister Narcissa Black marrying the Malfoy's heir, didn't get a Madam Desha dress. Who paid for it?" asked Andromeda.

"Um… Pot- Harry. He said… something about nothing about getting married being to either of our tastes, so I should get a dress of my choosing. Mummy suggested couture, and Potter said that Fleur's dress was good, so I should get one of those."

"You know Fleur now?" asked Andromeda.

"We… can talk French. Fleur liked my dress. And envied my ability to um – " Daphne stopped and felt a faint blush.

"Oh. You make Harry stare. His friends think it's hilarious." said Andromeda. What the hell?

Daphne stared at Andromeda in shock.

"You see, Harry, by the opinion of most of his friends , who are mostly Gryffindors, is that Harry should find a Slytherin Pureblood – whose only claim to Harry is a crooked deal by my morally challenged sister, well Harry should find you eminently ignorable. Instead, he can't keep his eyes off you. I can tell you more, but it's tad… family humour." said Andromeda, with a smile that was … well it was clear who was an pureblood from Slytherin, from a very wealthy family. A spoilt sarcastic cow, in other words.

Daphne sighed. Best to get the humiliation over with now.

"What else?" she asked.

"There is a friends and family pool betting on how long before Harry is 'lost to her slytherin wiles'" said Andromeda. "You seem unwilling or unable to use wiles. If you had any?"

Daphne tries to look proud and adult.

"No wiles then." said Andromeda bluntly "You'll grow into it. I'll put my money on… four years."

Daphne gaped. "This whole conversation was just to get information to inform your betting on … on Potter and I… becoming intimate?"

"Oh I don't care about that. I'm betting on Harry's heart." said Andromeda. "Though, nobody knows about his life before Hogwarts. He won't be drawn on it, and everyone who's tried… he won't talk, and gets angry. Defensive, I think."

"So… don't ask?" asked Daphne.

"Not in your tenuous position. He's had life lessons in betrayal and hate, that I know. Not sure he's had many good things – and before you get all dismissive, Miss Weasley was one of the good things."

"Pot – Harry claims he was… that she can marry in white" said Daphne.

"Hermione is, I strongly suspect the first person to ever hug him." said Andromeda.

"What?" said Daphne feeling angry all of a sudden. Her hands clenched.

"Oh calm down. I hugged Harry after he changed his first nappy for Teddy, and Harry went stiff as a board. He let slip that Hermione was his first hug. Then had to explain at length with lots of blushing that – "

Daphne could predict her next words. 'My first sexual experience was Hermione Granger.'

Andromeda continued with "Hermione was the sister he always wanted. He has a cousin he grew up with called Dudley. Dudley was bigger than Harry and I suspect Harry was on the end of his cousin's firsts. Harry flinches sometimes."

Daphne looked at Andromeda and blinked. Granger was his adopted sister? What execrable taste… oh. The first person to ever hug him. How messed up was Harry Potter anyway?

"I think four years is optimistic." said Daphne "I put a galleon on never."

Andromeda smiled, her hooded eyes narrowing "You're in a position to change the outcome, George would never accept a bet from you. You could cheat."

"George?" asked Daphne.

"George Weasley, one of the twins. His brother died in the war, they apparently would have rather had Harry as a brother than Ron." said Andromeda. "He runs Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes."

"I could understand that" quipped Daphne.

"Ronald's an Auror like my Nymphadora was. And apparently a good, nerveless Auror. He apparently attributes it to growing up having dangerous adventures with Harry" said Andromeda.

"Why isn't he an Auror?" Daphne blurted out.

"He's… I think you're to blame. Don't take that as a negative. His dislike for authority would have made him an awkward fit as an Auror ; my Nymphadora was a hellion at Hogwarts, but Harry had it much worse. He had to kill a possessed Teacher when he was eleven, if you didn't know. No, Harry's experiences, his betrothal to you, rattling against the bars of the legal system… and now he's almost a perfect Pureblood head of house. Despises the ministry, despite being a friend of the minster, has nothing but contempt for the laws. He could do with some tips on being a hard-line head of house, if you want to help him. Arthur Weasley's hardly that sort of man. Could your father give him some tips?"

"My father" Daphne ground out "Is a craven coward."

Andromeda nodded politely "I did get that impression. Good. Harry will be a pleasant change for you. He fears nothing… apart from fear. So I'm told… his old Defence teacher told me at length. His boggart is a Dementor. What a thing."

"He what?" asked Daphne "He was excused that exercise in class... well pushed away from the boggart. Professor Lupin – " Daphne stopped. "Teddy's father." Professor Lupin had married Andormeda's daughter. Who'd been an Auror, for Merlin's sake.

"Remus and I talked. Well, I yelled at him for being a coward, and he told Harry stories." said Andromeda.

"Harry?" asked Daphne.

"I asked him who slapped him around and sent him back to his pregnant wife" said Andromeda. "And his answer was Harry, a skinny sixteen-year old with only two friends, and a Dark lord after his hide."

"What?" asked Daphne.

"Remus was a good man, and a kind man, but plagued by a lack of confidence." said Andromeda. "Harry has something wrong with him, so there's that."

"Something wrong?" asked Daphne.

"He was prepared to walk to his death. Or, more recently, sacrifice his happiness to save a witch he didn't know from being declared unacceptable. You were never at any risk, dear." said Andromeda. "Harry would walk in front of a curse to save anyone. He's not as noble as all that… he just doesn't value his life."

"He… joked about being raised for the slaughter. So he's over it." said Daphne.

"No." said Andromeda "I rather doubt that. He will laugh and then die anyway."

"I'm going now" said Daphne.

"You should" said Andromeda. "Oh, by the way… the betting thing is more a family joke than an actual sweepstake. My money's on him dying to save you."

Daphne left felling quite… disturbed. Potter wasn't insane. Was he?

-==0==-

Over the next week, Potter's got most of the rooms at Grimmauld place nearly fixed. Except paint, wallpaper and textiles.

Tenant visits and letters have resulted in lists of things that need done by Daphne. The worst things got to repair-wizards. It's costing too much to continue with.

Potter finally engages a magical plumber to replace the taps. Who will come in a week.

Astoria went home eventually, but keeps turning up for lunch or dinner; it's boring at Malfoy Manor all alone. She and Daphne swim in the afternoons… Astoria's getting healthier with some gentle exercise. Daphne's exercise levels mean she's managing to not gain weight; given all the food she's eating. She's just… unhappy.

Potter apparently remembers to go to the 'mail box' and came back with a letter which he showed her at lunch. They found a buyer, they won't say who, who's prepared to buy all three coaches, and pay one hundred and twenty thousand pounds.

Daphne simply says "Take the offer." The thought of all that lovely profit is such a relief.

Potter asks her if she wants to come, but she's busy; tenants and making more lists. Now there's money coming in she can get things fixed.

Over Dinner Harry mentioned having found a decorator to re-paper the hallway. Daphne frowned at him and asked what wallpaper they're going to use. Harry replied quickly with "I know a shop with wallpaper."

"I'm far too busy with the accounts" countered Daphne "It will have to wait."

It is rather boring doing accounts all day , so Daphne sketched rooms as breaks, and numbered the panels in the sketches with colours from the book

She gave the sketchesto him after dinner. "I had some ideas for recolouring" said Daphne "Between visiting tenants."

"Have you got a list of jobs for me?" asked Harry.

Daphne blushed as she admitted "I hired a muggle-born to do some. It wouldn't do for the head of the house of Black to be seen fixing wonky doors."

"Oh I can do it without looking undignified" said Harry and waved his wand and changed the ageing brown wallpaper in the dining room to a silvery pattern.

Daphne looked around "All of it, wordlessly?" What sorcery was this?

"I've had some practice on my room" admitted Harry "And the picture frames and stuff"

"As long as you don't look undignified" said Daphne "We have a reputation."

"As landlords that don't do maintenance" said Harry "I've got a reputation already. As the man who killed you-know-who."

Harry went with Daphne the next day after breakfast to an apartment over Diagon alley, where an old witch was grumbling about her apartment. Harry cleaned, repaired and recoloured the walls she was complaining about all non-verbally. The old witch mentioned the roof was apparently a problem too. Daphne went home with Potter by floo, and considered roof repair costs.