"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, and under no circumstances is her husband to hear of this.
Chapter Six:Daphne got up, washed her face and dressed for breakfast.
She got there early, and had bacon with her kipper and eggs. Success is measured in bacon.
Kreacher made a salver of letters appear next to her elbow,
A letter from her sister. Astoria was bored. Terribly bored. She'd started trying on Mrs Malfoy's underwear bored. And was proud that the bras fit or were even maybe a little tight. She needs something to do.
There was a letter from Ginny Weasley to Harry Potter. Daphne incinerated it. His name is Potter-Black.
Daphne was reading letters from tenants when Potter came into the room, scratching the hair on the back of his head again.
"Morning" said Potter. He looked rather rumpled.
"Oh you're up" said Daphne. "Any chance of exploring after breakfast?"
"In clothes..." said Potter
"We don't mind getting dirty" finished Daphne. He's rather predictable.
"And muggle, because at home, between meals" said Potter.
"Can Astoria come, she's bored" asked Daphne.
"Sure" said Harry "She'll need a calculator too?"
"Your problem, not mine" said Daphne, making notes in her tenants-book from the letters.
Potter went to the chafing dishes and loaded a plate.
"There's not much bacon" he said, not sounding very surprised, or very upset either.
"There was earlier" said Daphne, feeling smug.
"It's good to be home" said Potter, rather weirdly. He looked, to Daphne's mind like he needed a vacation. Would he like a hot swim at the Malfoys?
Daphne dropped off the work mail in her office, and apparated to her room and wondered what to wear for exploring cupboards on the fourth floor.
Potter would wear a t-shirt and jeans. Daphne swallowed, there'd been a bit of bacon caught in her teeth. Or something.
Daphne got out her jeans, and found one of the few t-shirts she had bought. It was Slytherin green.
Daphne drew her wand on it, and charmed it grey. That looked… no. Daphne finite-ed it and transfigured the t-shirt into a grey t-shirt with black printing.
'My husband defeated the dark lord, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.' It was… Daphne smirked – he would get a little look. It was blatantly obvious he liked to ogle her, and they were married anyway. And Muggles would wear that sort of outfit to Tescos. Daphne undressed and put the t-shirt on bra-less. It felt very nice, if… a bit unsupportive. She glanced at the mirror. Oh no. That was crossing a line. Daphne got one of her muggle bras that was soft-fronted and .,.. yes. That was quite classy, and still amusing, and the outline of breasts would cheer up any man. Just… remember to always wear t-shirts with a bra underneath. Daphne dragged the jeans on, did them up, and put on trainers and eyed herself in the mirror, ponytail, and she could... apart from the slogan, she could be a muggle woman.
Hmh! Not that she was anything but a pure-blooded witch in the Sacred-twenty-eight.
Daphne apparated to the kitchen, and floo-called Malfoy Manor.
Dizzy, Astoria's least useful house-elf got Mistress in a few minutes. Astoria was wearing a bathrobe and from the stains on her mouth, eating chocolate cake for a late breakfast.
"Dress in your muggle dirty jobs clothes, we're exploring hidden cupboards on the fourth floor." said Daphne. "And send all her old clothes to a charity store. Don't wear them!"
Daphne took the opportunity to go look at the coach-house, as Potter was upstairs. There was a lot of unused space. Hmm. Somewhere to stash furniture or plumbing things instead of warehousing.
Daphne went back to the kitchen and eyed the laundry. Kreacher did technically clean things, but… Daphne suspected she could do better with some washing potion and her… academic grasp of laundry charms from seventh year.
Astoria tumbled out of the floo "Daphne?"
Daphne left the laundry sinks and went to see her sister – in her jumper and jeans.
Astoria whistled. "He gets that huh?"
"He's been in hospital all week, he deserves a little pick-me-up" said Daphne.
"Is he gonna pick you up and bang you against the wall?" asked Tori. Daphne rolled her eyes. As if. "Come on. Potter's room first."
"Oh my" simpered Astoria. Daphne made a rude gesture.
Daphne, feeling a bit… podgy next to her sister, walked up the stairs. And Astoria started discussing the logistics of a trip to Paris… to get discount everything.
"As long as you're paying" said Daphne.
"Oh, well I could" admitted Tori.
"I'm offering free ballet and opera and meals" said Daphne. "I may be able to get you an appointment at Madam Desha's. I am a customer, after all."
"Hmm" said Tori.
"Have you met Teddy and Andromeda yet?" asked Daphne.
"Andromeda?"
"Your aunt by marriage, lovely woman. For a Black. Teddy's her grandson." said Daphne.
"How old is he?" asked Tori.
"He's an infant" said Daphne "Heir of the Ancient and most noble house of Black."
"Oh, so you don't have to… you know" asked Tori.
"Just one for Greengrass" Daphne said through gritted teeth.
"What's this Teddy like?"
Daphne wondered how to explain about a metamorphmagus toddler with a predilection for looking like whoever held him. And the first time that Teddy hand changed into a little blond boy with blue eyes, Daphne had… well it had been a surprise.
"So Teddy's just the dearest little man" said Daphne. How do you explain to your sister that you've fallen in love with someone for looking like what you imagine your son could look like?
"Did all the door windows have those bits of wood" asked Astoria. "The rooms aren't dark now"
"The Blacks were weird" said Daphne. The got to Potters room, and Potter stood up from his desk and turned. Potter stared at her. And visibly swallowed.
She nodded "Like the shirt?" she asked, feeling … quite in control of her house. And rather in control of Potter too.
"It has its good points" said Potter, blushing slightly and looking out a window.
"These are my sludge disaster memorial clothes" said Astoria "So I'm not too worried. And Daphne's decided you needed a couple of points to cheer you up."
"A box and tongs, or maybe gloves?" said Potter.
"I saw some gloves in Regulus's cupboard" said Daphne, turning and walking off to get them.
Potter yelled "Bring a cupboard drawer."
Daphne hadn't even got to the door to Potter's room, and she yelled back "No" and tapped the wood over the door with her wand. It fell off with a thud, revealing a cracked windowpane.
"Sirius was a moody teenager" observed Potter.
"Takes one to know one" said Daphne drily, and she transfigured the square of thin wood into a wooden box, with wooden handles. If only my NEWT practical had gone that well, she thought.
"The box is for… awful things" said Harry.
Daphne finite-ed the sticking charm on the outermost blanking panel, and it fell off.
Potter walked over and tapped the window casting 'glazius reparo' and the glass made a horrid squeak and wasn't cracked any more. Daphne stepped over the wood on the floor, acutely conscious that Potter had been standing near her.
"He's actually good at that" said Astoria.
"You doubt me?" asked Potter, and he slowly transfigured the other sheet of wood into a wooden box, with a hinged lid. It took him ages, and went through a lot of intermediate forms that were chickens. Which made no sense. Was he showing off again? Probably.
"You could sell those" said Astoria.
Potter opened the cupboard Andromeda had demonstrated. Then he finite-ed the shelves. . The middle shelves changed to have terrible stains. Daphne took a look "Booze or ink?" she asked.
Potter partially-transfigured the shelf silently into an unmarred shelf.
"Partial transfiguration. Neat work" said Astoria.
"And no sludge" said Daphne, pushing on the panel by the side window, till it opened into a large dusty corner space. She lit her wand. "Something in here" she said. "There are shelves, and something's jammed around the corner. Potter conjured long metal tongs (showoff) and handed them to Daphne, who pulled out… cloth. Unwrapped, it was a pair of short trousers for a small child.
"Pantaloons" said Astoria "No wonder he 'lost them'" Potter looked at them, his eyes wide.
Astoria squeezed in behind Potter's bed and opened the other side panel; the twin of the one Daphne had just opened. The panel creaked a bit, and she had to pull it hard to open the panel. She lit her wand. "Stuff" she said. "Put a box on the bed."
Potter picked up Daphne's box and put it on the bed. Astoria carefully put a jar in the box "Looks like… some sort of stupid prank stuff" She got out another jar, and then asked for tongs.
She picked up a dusty necklace and dropped it in the box. "Toy soldiers" she said, and using the tongs, transferred a small company of lead soldiers.
Potter went and opened the panel nearest the doorway, and it held shoes. Dreadful, unfashionable shoes. Potter put them in the other box.
"Daphne, you get the one behind the wardrobe" said Potter.
Daphne pushed the panel, and it swung silently open, and looked she at magazines, which from the top one at least, all featured at least partially naked women. Pornography.
"Oh" said Daphne, Sirius Black had been a yucky teenage boy, "Typical, get the rubbish bin" she said sharply.
Potter brought the bin over. Daphne summoned the tongs, caught them neatly, and picked up one filthy magazine at a time, and put them in the bin.
Astoria came over "What are they?" she asked.
"Pornography" said Daphne, fishing out an even more dog-eared magazine, which she dropped on top "And motorbikes."
"He had his hobbies" said Potter, clearly making excuses for Black's bad behaviour.
Daphne bent over and looked on the lower shelves. There was some sort of box at the back of the shelf. She knelt down and to see what it was – and it was a pasteboard box. She opened it up, and found… oh god. Knickers. Piles of knickers.
"Arsehole" she said, from her position, head in the cupboard. Black had kept trophies.
"What's in it?" asked Astoria as Daphne shut the lid on its shameful contents.
"Knickers" said Daphne. "That box is getting burned", she levitated it into the open-topped box.
She scourgify'ed the compartment and Potter went and cleaned out the shoe-cupboard too.
By the time he was done, she'd done the easily accessible corner and closed the two other cupboards up.
"Can one of you put the furniture back, my magic is a bit wonky" said Potter. What?
Levitated the bed back into position and when she lifted the wardrobe it bobbed slightly shakily, but she got it done, and then moved the desk back too. "Done" she said, feeling quite proud – the wardrobe had been quite large. "Regulus will be much less awful" she said surely. HE hadn't decorated his room with dirty muggle pictures.
Potter took transom window covers down; Regulus hadn't broken his transom window-pane. Potter transfigured up two lidded boxes; they had chickens carved on them. Why Potter was obsessed with chickens, Daphne had no idea.
"You can transfigure okay?" asked Astoria.
"My levitation's all wibbly" said Potter "Might be the potions."
Daphne's memory chose that point to remind her that days and days ago the healer had mentioned that Potter might have some problems with magic for a few days. "They did say no apparation, some problems for a few more days" said Daphne.
"Well, at least I've had some treatment" said Potter in a weirdly cheery tone.
Daphne moved the furniture with levitation charms. She did one piece at a time and the wardrobe bobbed a bit.
"You need more practice on big objects" said Potter, going back to get the tongs. Because of course, being a furniture mover was her life's ambition.
"Getting the tongs" said Harry loudly, returning after a delay. Hmm maybe he was still a little ill.
Daphne put the gloves on, and prepared to do battle with hidden junk.
"Regulus was the good son" said Potter.
"And a Slytherin, in a house of Slytherins" said Daphne. "Can you detect curses today?"
"You do it with Astoria, I'll do the picking up things" said Potter.
Regulus had stored books by the door. Daphne tried detecting magic on them, and they were charmed in some way; she dispelled the charms carefully, and Potter looked in the books,"Extra textbooks, swotty chap" he said casually, checking the tables of contents. Daphne resisted the urge to make a crack about being able to read. She watched, bored, as Potter opened a book and paused, read the table of contents, and checked something. His facial expression tightened, his lips narrowing, and he put that book back on the shelf. What had he seen? Daphne wondered.
The bottom shelf had half-unwrapped presents.
Astoria toyed with then- a toy dog, a wooden puzzle and a ball.
"He did not throw those gifts away" said Potter. "He just never used them" Astoria started fidgeting with the wooden puzzle. Daphne went to check a hidden shelf instead. The one behind the desk.
There a vaguely worrying ink bottle, a bottle that looked like firewhiskey and a bottle that of what Daphne remembed with a memory of nausea, as hangover cure.
"Not so good as all that" said Harry. "Doe either of you recognise the ink?"
"Some sort of secret ink, or maybe cursed" volunteered Daphne. "Looks like top-shelf stuff from Scrivenshafts."
Tori opened the cupboard behind the bed. Daphne dispelled any possible curses on the box inside, and Potter peered in at the box. His job was tongs, not gawking. Daphne floated it out, and magically opened it. There were photos and letters inside.
Daphne checked for more curses, and didn't find any magic on the letters at all. So she looked at one. A Letter from 'Your Mother 'to 'Dear Regulus.' The topic of the letter was mostly 'Your brother…' She put it down quickly. It was… rather horrid. "It's from his parents, mostly about Sirius. They were happy Regulus was in Slytherin." She'd written that to Regulus, but spent most of the letter telling Regulus to ignore his brother. What a cow.
"Oh" said Potter. "Photos?"
Daphne looked at one It was a bunch of students with snake-themed brooches on their black school robes. "Some Slytherins" She rummaged and found a much older photo of two young boys, both dark haired in uncomfortable looking formal robes "Oh, Regulus and Sirius." she said. Regulus looked about eight, and Sirius looked about ten, going on thirty. Daphne could imagine him smoking when his mother wasn't looking.
"That's for the wall" said Potter "We'll get what Blacks we can for the drawing room. Photos don't talk." Potter had a good point. It had to be a fluke.
Astoria pulled open the secret door behind the wardrobe. "Oh no" she said hollowly and turned, and made eye-contact with Daphne, and shook her head. Oh, something bad then.
Daphne came over and saw… dark robes. Heavy, black robes, which smelt of smoke. "Harry, you need to bring a box and tongs" she said, suddenly feeling light-headed. Regulus Black had been a Death Eater. Had Potter known all along?
Potter dragged a box closer and went, and by the light of Daphne's wand, looked at the robe for a moment. "This is burnt today" said Potter, in a decisive tone and picked it up with the tongs and dropped it in the rubbish box. Behind it, bone white, was a decorated face mask. Daphne felt ill. It wasn't her imagination. Regulus Black had been a Death Eater. He'd been her age, and … one of them. Potter picked up the mask with the tongs and dropped it into the box. Daphne went and leaned on the desk, and tried not to start burning the room. They were searching it, they'd find everything and clean the room up. It would be fine. She'd just wash a little harder tonight.
Potter nosily opened the last hidden cupboard, and Daphne stepped up behind him, and lighting the way, as he held tongs. It was empty. Which was a little odd. Potter pointed and Daphne cast a finite into the cupboard, her wand beside Potter. There was the odour of dusty-shut-up rooms, and... Potter. Once her spell ended, in the far corner of the hidden cupboard there was a small wooden box covered in dust.
Potter pulled it out with tongs, put it on the desk in the middle of the room, and flicked the lid open. A small pile of letters, but written in a larger, childish hand. Potter drew his wand eagerly, cast a finite on them verbally, and picked one up. He read the childish letter quickly.
"It's a love letter" said Potter "To Regulus from someone Esmeralda."
Astoria plucked a photo out and turned it over onto the desk like a playing card. A pig-tailed girl, maybe twelve, smiled and waved in a cloak and mittens.
"Some girl liked Regulus" said Astoria. Tori dug though the box and sorted the photos like playing cards.
"Oh my" she said. "She kept liking Regulus, she must be seventeen in this."
Tori showed Potter a photo of a girl with long, dark hair; the same girl but much older, blowing a kiss in Hogwarts robes.
Potter asked "What house is she in?"
Astoria looked closely at the kiss-blowing girl. "Slytherin" said Astoria "She's got a snake brooch"
"So why abandon the box? Why hide it?" asked Potter.
Daphne took the letters and skimmed through the pile for the newest one. Which was on the bottom and a little crumpled. She skimmed it. Esmeralda had got tired of waiting, and married Wilfred Avery – and that surname was one that she associated with Death Eaters. "Oh" she said "How sad."
"Did she die?" asked Potter.
"Worse, married an Avery" said Daphne.
"That would make her a grown up, about thirty, married to an Avery" said Potter.
"They're – " started Daphne
"Avery, the one that married her; he was a death eater, and a disloyal one" interrupted Potter.
"Regulus Black was loyal to evil" said Daphne. What a great epitaph for an eighteen-year-old.
"Not exactly" said Potter "He actually betrayed you-know-who and helped defeat him." What the hell was Potter on about?
"So he was a death eater, who changed his mind?" said Astoria. Daphne mentally thanked her sister for asking.
"Decided what he was doing was too evil" said Potter, and then he said "Shame about Esmeralda marrying Avery. If Regulus had lived instead of dying, they could be my slightly evil uncle and my soppy aunt."
"You really are a romantic, Potter" said Daphne, wondering how Potter knew Regulus had betrayed the Dark Lord… though that explained him dying to young. "Though it is tragic."
"Do we burn it?" asked Potter.
"Find out if she's still alive, and Avery's dead and return them" said Astoria.
"So she can sob over her lost love?" said Daphne. "Seems cruel."
"So she can burn them" said Astoria. "And maybe Harry can tell her a bit more about old Uncle Regulus."
"If I do, she'd have to keep it secret." said Potter, and that was pretty conceited.
"Don't want the house outed as having nice tendencies?" asked Astoria.
"Apart from being a Death Eater, this room was a lot less surprising than expected" said Daphne. He'd been a swotty… Death Eater living in his brother's shadow. Oh, and had respectable clothes, and was nearly the same size as Potter.
Potter opened the bedside drawer, found a book and dipped into it, then went red in the face, and dropped the book on the bed, and fled to look out the window, down onto Grimmauld place.
Daphne picked up the book and let it fall open in her hand. Hmm not a novel, short lines. Oh… erotic poetry. Daphne smirked and read a little more. Quite purple prose. And then.. a rather purple and graphic description by the poet of his desire.
She could not help exclaiming "Oh my, this is very… purple stuff."
Astoria elbowed her and noses into the book. Daphne turned the pages when Tori elbowed her. Several pages later Tori said "Talk about the quiet ones, This is very racy." They had got to a quite… pornographic part. Daphne shut the book with a snap, and had a tug-of-war with Tori over it, finally banishing it to her room. Tori made a rude gesture.
"You can stop looking out the window, Harry, Regulus's pornographic poetry won't bite." said Daphne.
Potter took the box of Death-Eater robes off to destroy them.
Tori followed Daphne to her room "Oy, where's the book." she asked.
"It was in my house, It's mine" said Daphne.
"Well, clean it first" said Tori, and mimed a boy… committing beastliness on himself.
Daphne felt the sudden need to wash her hands, and ran off to the loo.
-==0==-
Potter came to breakfast in robes, and stared at his food.
Daphne gave him an address for a probably derelict Black family house to go and renovate. It would get him out of the house anyway. It's possible he may even do it.
Daphne went to Diagon Alley to do some shopping, with a due sense of dread, and one of her favourite hats. The latter hat, not the earlier one.
She had just managed to get a few moments alone when her way was blocked by reporters and a photographer. That was her day ruined.
Strangely, Potter fixed the house Daphne assigned him in a little under two weeks.
But that had him neglecting Teddy, and he hadn't checked for muggle post in ages when Daphne reminded him at breakfast. And had left Daphne with a house with no tenant. What she needed was a family that weren't criminals, or inclined to commit property damage and apparate away.
He had muggle post in his PO Box. Christies have a line on a collector of mechanical calculators. They'd like a finders fee before they tell him contact details. They suggested four hundred pounds.
The next building for Potter to fix, decided Daphne is a three storey apartment building off Diagon Alley, i.e. in the near bit of Knockturn alley. It needs doors… they're all kicked in and/or missing.
And he spent an entire week looking after Teddy, while Andromeda worked. Which meant watching Potter feeding Teddy at every meal. Potter is persistent, calm, and Teddy is adorable. Its almost revolting really. Fortunately Astoria's not around to make cracks about what a good father Potter will be. All Daphne said was that Teddy wore a nappy, and that it needed to be changed ,and Astoria stayed away. Teddy Lupin's nappy does reek when it's full.
Over lunch, the day after Teddy goes home,Potter asks really basic questions about the Black family business.
How many properties, How many tenants, how much income, how much net income, and then "How much are we spending on repairs, and that amount changing?"
Daphne felt her eyebrows rise at the last question.
"As far as I have records, the repairs are going up slowly. I attribute that to tenants not believing we will do anything about complaints."
"Do we have… commercial tenants too?" asked Potter.
If he'd got a gramophone out, started music and asked her to Tango, it would not be more surprising.
"We have a limited number of commercial tenants. We have some empty shops and a derelict warehouse" said Daphne.
"Oh." said Potter. "I suppose… the economy's still recovering from the war."
"I have an idea about that" said Daphne "Creevy Brothers Photography. Our empty stores are better than his current rental."
"Er" said Potter awkwardly "That would be awkward. I mean, I know Dennis. I even owe him for … the battle."
The plumber had finally come and replaced the taps. They actually work. It's like… living in a house not a disaster area, and the front hall has been re-papered by the contractor, and looks fairly chic. Certainly nothing like it did.
"You know, if we had decent towels this place would be merely cold and draughty" said Daphne over breakfast. As she looked at her distinct lack of tenants for buildings that had been rennovated, Daphne had an idea. She wrote Perks a letter and offered the rental in Britain, for a reasonable hundred galleons a year, and apparated to the Diagon Alley to go to the post office, and, after she apparated in everyone stared at her. Daphne walked from the recommended apparation point to the owl-post office, and by the time she got there, a middle-aged blonde reported in a garish green robes and jewelled glasses was waiting for her.
"Daphne Black!" said the reporter "Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet. What bring you out today?" Next to her quick-quotes quill hovered.
"Ms Skeeter" said Daphne "I'm trying to send a letter."
"Surely the Blacks have an owl?" asked Rita "A secret letter to your lover?"
"An international letter, that would mean our owl was busy for days and days" said Daphne "Tenant management business."
Rita Skeeter nodded "We're both women of the world, Daphne, you can tell me ?" She was terribly annoying.
Daphne decided to give her an advertisement instead. "The Black family have a number of residential rentals, and some are currently vacant, they are available for lease at reasonable rates. We have a warehouse for lease, and several empty stores and offices in Diagon Alley, and elsewhere."
Rita Skeeter beetled her brows at Daphne. "Daphne, I can call you Daphne, can't I? Can you say something about Harry Potter, your husband. The man who won?"
Daphne was blocked from getting into the owl-post office by Rita Skeeter, and she wondered what to say. What would Potter do? Be very sarcastic no doubt.
"Rita dear, my husband is Harry Black, and I have to say that he's a tolerable dancer, and is surprisingly good with his hands." said Daphne, and she winked at Rita Skeeter. Publish that if you dare, witch?
"Is there any truth to the rumour that he learnt how to dance using quidditch training methods?" asked Rita.
"He's a natural flyer, as everyone should know" said Daphne "And yes, I taught him to dance using quidditch training techniques. Why that works for him, I don't know."
Rita Skeeter nodded, and eyed the parchment the quill was writing on.
"How did you discover that?" asked Rita "There's a rumour Harry Potter did the Wollongong shimmy with you?"
"Well, yes Rita" said Daphne. She had a talkative person at her wedding reception. But that didn't really matter. What would make Skeeter go away?… What would Tracey say? Sod off.
Hmm, what would mummy say? No, not going there.
"Well, he took me for a Wollongong shimmy and I found it a bit much" said Daphne. "He had to go a bit slower" she added. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened. Daphne wanted to snort.
"I observed that he could do any dance moves on a broom, upside-down at forty miles an hour, he couldn't possibly be that dance-challenged. A little quidditch training later, and he's an acceptable dancer." said Daphne. "Other witches could try it, I suppose."
Rita Skeeter packed up the quick-quotes quill and left. For a galleon, the letter went to France.
I hope I didn't just waste a galleon
Potter didn't miraculously acquire towels while Daphne was working all day. Well except for riding Buttercup and a swim in the afternoon in her sister's heated pool.
A week passed, they still had horrible towels, Daphne snapped and went to the store mummy goes to, and bought twenty towels, twenty flannels and ten bath-mats. They're all nice and soft. If only her bathroom wasn't cold. And she got a letter back from Perks.
'Daphne Gr Black,
One hundred a month? One hundred a year is only like five hundred pounds.
Sally-Anne Perks.'
Daphne considered that five hundred pounds wasn't a lot, but a hundred galleons was, shrugged and went to see Daddy.
"Daddy, I want an international portkey. Long cord, destination a house we Blacks own in Wolverhampton?"
"Why?" asked Daddy "I hope you're not smuggling."
Daphne shook her head "Why would I do that?"
"Well, the Ministry isn't going to complain too hard if you were caught smuggling" said daddy. Rather cynically.
Daphne took daddy there by apparation. It was an older seventeenth-century half-timbered house.
"So this is one of your vacancies" he said. "Decent enough, I suppose. Why a portkey?"
"I've got a tenant in mind. Family of an old school friend – no not Pansy" said Daphne.
"Why would someone move back to Britain?" asked daddy.
"Well she's a muggle-born, and her muggle family fled with her to France. They can come back, and apparently a hundred galleons isn't a lot of rent by muggle standards." said Daphne.
"That portkey I made you one yule?"
"Well, a Slytherin muggleborn didn't have good prospects at the time" said Daphne.
Daddy made a portkey on the spot with a long red cord. "Tenancy" said Daddy.
"Did you get involved with that sort of thing?" asked Daddy. "Saving those kind of people? You only asked for the one portkey."
"Only the one daddy, and that's damming to the old sticks in the mud, and not enough for the ones that won the war. So, quietly I may get a good tenant." said Daphne. "She came to my hens-night party."
"You got very inebriated, Daphne" said Daddy. "Did you… get up to things?"
"No daddy, puking on a wizard is my limit" said Daphne.
Daddy shook his head "Please be careful with drinking dear" and he disapparated.
Daphne went home and wrote a short letter to wrap the portkey with
'Yes one hundred a year. That's the going rate. The gratis international portkey goes to the rental. Activation word is tenancy.'
Andromeda got a job, part-time with a firm she used to work for. As a general charms-witch. Which meant more Teddy in the house.
Daphne braved Hogsmeade on a Tuesday morning to send the letter this time, and got quick service, and there was nobody to stare, and no reporter.
-==0==-
It was mid July before Daphne raised the subject of Harry's birthday party over breakfast.
"Teddy and Andromeda" says Harry "I'd like for my friends to come too" he says boldly.
"Not your ex or her mother" said Daphne. She wasn't going to watch that, and it wasn't going to happen in her house.
"What's wrong with Mrs Weasley?" said Potter "She was like a mum to me."
"She decided you are going to be her son-in-law, and she's a bloody dangerous duellist. She killed Bellatrix LeStrange." said Daphne.
"I'll owl her" said Potter sulkily.
"Oh, and that white owl's really vicious" said Daphne "Every time I send mail, it tries to bite me."
"Bribe it with bacon" explained Potter.
"What?" said Daphne "It's hard enough to get bacon competing with you, let alone the damn owl. Who buys snowy owls anyway?"
"I missed Hedwig, my old snowy" said Potter.
"What happened to her?" said Daphne "She was the only one at Hogwarts, wasn't she?"
"We were flying away my aunts house when she got hit by a killing curse fired by the Death Eaters following us" said Potter, sighing.
"Could you explain that?" asked Daphne and Potter told her a story of seven people, ployjuicing to look like Potter, dressed like Potter, fleeing his home by air.
"And just sneaking off under your invisibility cloak was too hard?" asked Daphne.
"It wasn't my plan" said Harry "And my Firebolt got lost in the muddle"
A 'muddle' resulted in a forty-thousand galleon broom being lost. Daphne wanted to scream, or at least find out who'd been on the damn thing, so they could be sued.
Potter sighed. He really was a sulky moody sod.
He flooed off to the Burrow, to do who-knew-what. Hopefully not Weasley.
He was at lunch, looking like someone had fed his Crup to a Kenazle.
Daphne felt agitated. Doubtless the spectre of a child would be raised at his birthday, and to be honest, the property business was doing fairly well. There were a lot of latent problems in the houses, but the tenants reported them, and Potter and the plumbers fixed them.
"We're making money from every property we own" she said. "Nobody's withholding rent."
And taking the opportunity to slide the list of the weeks repairs over to Potter's place setting.
"That's good, right?" asked Potter, eyeballing the list.
"The investments we have are doing poorly" said Daphne. "But it's not our fault, and we can't change it; and this money keeps turning up in the Potter account, every month, and it changes."
"How much?" Potter asks.
"Around a hundred galleons, but hardly any in Septembers" she says. "The goblins say it's labelled as for a Mister S Farter."
"Silent Farter" said Potter "It's my share of profits from Weasleys Wizarding wheezes; I gave them the… seed funding. I'm a silent partner, but George likes toilet humour."
"They make hundreds a month?" asked Daphne "A joke shop makes twelve hundred a year"
"It's probably making three thousand a year; I get a third" said Potter.
"Why a third" asked Daphne, politely.
"I beat them down from half" said Harry "Then Fred died in the war, his siblings got a split of the share." He hadn't actually said that, had he?
"They're… good at business?" asked Daphne incredulously.
"The twins were, now just George."
"Potter makes as much as Black used to, from you making one investment" said Daphne "You're so lucky it's irritating."
"What's the bottom line for Black?" asked Potter.
"Four thousand galleons a year" said Daphne. "And another twelve hundred into Potter."
"Is this a lot?" asked Potter.
"Ministry mid-level jobs pay three hundred a year" said Daphne.
"And we have a few hundred thousand for a rainy day" said Potter. "Are we financially stable?"
"Mostly" said Daphne. More that stable enough to afford a child, but she wasn't admitting that. "Mostly because you've cut costs by fixing everything." Which was true.
"And I killed Voldemort" said Potter.
"People like that t-shirt" said Daphne.
"I was thinking, Weasleys can get some made. 'Harry Potter killed Voldemort and all I got was this lousy t-shirt'" said Potter, with a slight smile.
"You, of all people, making money from your utterly enormous fame?" asked Daphne. Had he suggested cashing in on his fame? He'd had a lot of endorsement offers, maybe she could raise that in a bit.
"We can donate half to St Mungos. And put it on the shirt in small print" said Potter.
Daphne swallowed. That was actually brilliant, and worthy and… also slyly funny.
"You really should have been in Slytherin" said Daphne, shaking her head in disbelief.
Potter suddenly looked like he'd eaten a lemon. Which was odd, as the soup was just french onion.
Potter was writing something in the library. Daphne went in once he was off doing repairs and had a look. A list of names, and some disgusting parodies of letters in a terrible, chicken-scratch. And Ginny Weasley had been written in and struck out, as had Mrs Weasely. It was like he'd listened to her.
"Kreacher!" Daphne called out.
Kreacher appeared with a pop.
"Mistress?"
"When your master attempts to post these letters, take them from him, and bring the letters to me" said Daphne. Kreacher nodded, and vanished.
That evening, Kreacher knocked and came into the office, carrying letters.
"Masters letters, Mistress" said Kreacher.
"Well done Kreacher, you may go" said Daphne. Kreacher vanished with a pop.
A moment later, Potter barged in. "Kreacher took my letters" he complained.
Daphne opened the first one and winced. The handwriting was abysmal.
"Honestly Harry, how is anyone supposed to read these" she said, and took out parchment and rewrote his invites, in green ink. She wrote a bit more and handed the letter she'd just written to Harry. Harry read the letter, it was the same, but Daphne had put "My husband invites you" on the front and on the bottom, said starting at ten, for morning tea, and put in that they had plenty of bedrooms if anyone felt too tired to go home, and finally asked that everyone please not pick fights, on Harry's birthday, and pp Daphne Black.
Potter bit his big fat lip "Its… good. I suppose" he said.
Daphne dashed off two more letters, with much the same changes, except for Hermione she insisted Hermione stay overnight, so they could catch up. It was a Saturday, after all.
"Have you sent George Weasley an invite?" asked Daphne.
"Er not yet?" said Potter. Daphne wrote a letter, without a personal bit from Potter, but insistent that George come visit, beforehand if possible, understanding that his business was heavier on Saturday.
"Why do you want George to visit?" asked Potter, reading her letter. He could evidently read.
"Because He's a business partner, and evidently quite good at it" said Daphne. "I'd like to get to know him, and maybe he needs a calculator." Goodness, he could read but had no idea about business.
"What he needs is a cash register" said Potter. What the hell was that?
"What's a cash register?" asked Daphne.
"The thing at the shop that adds up the purchases and keeps the money" said Potter.
"How did that work. Sarah at Harrods didn't even touch it?" asked Daphne.
"Oh that one had a barcode scanner" said Potter. "The labels on… well everything have barcodes."
"Everything?"
"Well at Tesco as well" said Potter.
"But why?" asked Daphne.
"To make shops quicker" said Potter. "They um, serve more people faster with one teller. Small shops have cash registers but not barcodes."
"What's a barcode?" asked Daphne.
"Um. Its a making that a um… barcode scanner can read." said Harry.
"What? How?"
"I dunno" admitted Potter "It uses red light. I stopped muggle school at eleven, you know."
"There's nothing about this in the muggle studies books Tracey loaned me" said Daphne.
Potter stared at her silently for a moment "You've been reading muggle studies books?" he asked, frowning.
"Well… everyone knew you had a muggle upbringing." admitted Daphne.
"Um yeah" said Potter. "So, cash registers are for shops."
"Where would anyone get one that worked in Galleons sickles and knuts" said Daphne.
"Well, the muggles used to use three moneys like us, just different numbers of each." said Potter, and he nodded, with a sly smile.
Ginny Weasley sent another letter. Daphne opened it, purely out of curiosity. It was full of sentimental rubbish. It burnt with a cheery yellow flame.
Mr George Weasley replied to his invitation, and therefore came to visit for dinner a week later.
Potter opened the front door, and the squat redhead was standing, grinning, in a purple suit and a purple top-hat, holding a bag of sweets that Potter politely declined to sample.
"These are perfectly normal" said George. Potter smiled blandly and said "Daphne dear, don't eat anything George has modified." He'd called her dear, and warned her. Did he … he was telling her to be on her guard.
"Pleased to Meet you Mrs Potter" said George Weasley, tipping his purple top hat.
"I'm Mrs Black." said Daphne firmly. As if she'd have been betrothed to a Potter. Well, not intentionally.
George Weasley looked around the front hall with obvious interest, and strode quickly towards the framed Black family photo.
"You and Mrs Black and Teddy and Andromeda Tonks" said George. "Looks a bit… pure-blood."
"It's the Black family" said Potter "Those of us not in prison" he added rather sarcastically.
George looked up and down the hallway, and eyed the light coming down the stairwell "Well, you've made the place look a lot nicer. Smells of roses." So he'd seen Grimmauld place… of course, the Order safe-house during the war years.
After dinner, George asked "How did you get dad to make a cash-taking machine"
"You what?" asked Harry.
George Weasley explained that he had tried it out a day before, and apart from lacking amusing noises, or magical hands, it was apparently working. "Makes settling the books at the ends of the day rather easy."
Potter had done something business related behind her back, and given away something valuable.
"George. Could you explain the finances of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes?" Daphne asked. George Weasley stared at her mulishly.
"The finances of Wheezes?" said George, "We make things and sell them for more than they cost to make. Harry gets a third of the profits."
Daphne tried not to scream. He was being intentionally obtuse.
Of all things, Potter pitched in "George, Daphne's trying to understand, because she thinks Wheezes is such a good business" George Weasley sighed.
"We use ingredients that are lot cheaper than you would expect. We found all sorts of interesting substitutes for ingredients. For example… gnome venom instead of billywig, in some of our potions. Obviously Gnome venom's free. Mums' got a great little herd. Of course, there are a few secret ingredients required to make gnome venom work" said George.
Daphne tried not to gape. George was a genius at potions. Which sort of made sense… lots of their products like the lollies that made you sick on purpose were clearly potions in a solid carrier.
"Of course it helps to have cheap labour; my famous brother's prepared to stir cauldrons for basically nothing, and mind the shop so I can get out and get ingredients and materials. And we've got a neighbour in the printing business, so all our packaging is made at knock-down prices." George added. "And if we need publicity, I get him to hang around in the shop, he's prepared to get mobbed by people wanting to know about the war. And so I get free advertising, cheap staff, use secret, cheaper recipes than the equivalents, and a lot of our stuff, we came up with the enchantments ourselves… and transfiguring off-cuts of firewood wood into the stuff we sell is pretty easy."
"That's your friend Ron?" asked Daphne. Wasn't he an Auror?
"That's Ron, yes" said Potter.
Daphne wondered how the hell she got a recluse when Wesley was an Auror and did publicity for George's shop. Weasley and Potter had the same experiences, they'd been thick as thieves at Hogwarts. Though… Potter was surprisingly cleverer than she had expected, at least sometimes.
"So this party of yours Harry, is there going to be booze?" asked George.
"There will be butterbeer, but nothing stronger." said Daphne quickly "People might make a scene."
"Harry, chum, little pal" said George "At least some spiked punch." He winked at Potter.
"Catering is Daphne's area" said Potter "We don't want, say Ron getting plastered"
"Well, yeah, he'll either start crying or..."
"Abuse my wife" said Potter. What in the name of Merlin just happened? Potter had just stuck up for her?
"Well yeah, or try to snog Hermione. I'll have a word with him about that. Daphne seems to be an alright wife for you. You're looking a lot better than you ever had, and this place is surprisingly nice now." said George.
Daphne felt that was… a compliment. If a strange one. "That's mostly Harry's doing" said Daphne, feeling charitable. "He does renovations, property repairs and muggle business deals." His ridiculous luck with the coaches would be more annoying, but he didn't harp on about it.
"So you stay home and fix the house" said George, to Potter. "You're doing that sitting quietly thing." Potter fixed George Weasley with a… he looked un-amused.
"He also does most of the maintenance on all the Black family rentals; seventeen houses, some apartments and shops. He has personally renovated three or four entire houses; not including this one, which frankly, you've only seen the ground floor, the rest is far nicer" said Daphne.
"You've got the whole place fixed up? That must have taken ages" said George.
"Harry is surprisingly effective at renovations. You know how ludicrously overpowered his spells can be" said Daphne airily. Surely he'd seen Potter's stupidly overpowered spells.
"Well, what's in the cursed room in the corner?" asked George, "We never did work it out."
Potter looked over behind his chair "It's a sort of storeroom, with lots of drawers for something. There's a weird cupboard someone ripped out and bricked up."
"Oh Harry, George hasn't seen the transom windows. We must take him for a tour after dinner" said Daphne. If he'd only seen it as it was when she had first seen it, he would hardly recognise it. And word would filter back to his mother, who doubtless was one of the friends and family who thought Daphne was a vapid, money-wasting bigot.
"Or the back door" said Harry "George, your Mum didn't believe me when I said we had a back door; Daphne's mu ... mother knew the house Had to have one, and Daphne found it."
Had Potter just given mummy credit for something? Did Potter like mummy?
"So Mrs Malfoy comes around often?" asked George.
"She gets very bored all alone there" said Daphne "So once she's done with paperwork, she pops in."
"I seem to have a spare bedroom she doesn't mind" said Potter. Daphne resisted the urge to smirk at putting her sister in a small room on a different floor. At least she was no longer so bored she was trying on old Mrs Malfoys' underwear.
After dinner; no dessert; and Harry once again declined a sweet, Potter showed George the small storeroom off the dining room.
"It's like it's for storing stuff. But you've got all those hutches" said George.
"Aunt Andromeda tells me those are new; they date from Sirius's mother" said Daphne, trying to emphasise that yes, she was part of Harry's extended family. "Grandmother Walburga rather remodelled the house; Grandfather Orion spent all his time on the accounts." said Daphne. "Having had to do the damn things, I'm glad Harry gave me a muggle calculating machine, now I have three more days in a week"
George Weasley for some reason was watching Potter as she spoke. Why?
"So, that storeroom might have been for plate and silverware?" asked George. He was quite quick on the uptake.
"That might explain why all the drawers lock" said Potter. And… he'd said something sensible. Sometimes he could be mistaken for a clever man.
"That was the most exciting let-down of an afternoon ever" said Daphne. "Drawer after drawer, all locked, and all empty."
"Well, there is felt moulded in odd shapes in the drawers" said Potter.
George opened a drawer "Those could be for spoons" said George. "Mums silver canteen looks like this when it's empty."
"Well someone didn't like it, or that cupboard" said Potter; there was a cupboard that had been ripped out and replaced entirely with bricks.
George looked at the bricks "Those were put in magically" said George confidently. "Dad's done enough. He built the whole house, from just a converted pig-shed."
Daphne pursed her lips and did not say anything. Honestly a pig-shed?
"Lets show George the back door while there's still a little light" said Potter.
"What back door?" asked George. "We explored pretty thoroughly"
Potter led then down to the kitchen, to the door to the back passage "This was bricked up and plastered over behind the hutch that was here."
"So you tore it down and the door was there?" asked George.
Daphne snorted. Potter glared at her, but had his hands on his hips rather theatrically "Are you going to tell that story again?"
"So... there's a hole in the plaster, and the bricks are leaking this disgusting black sludge" started Daphne.
Potter rolled his eyes "I put a conjured barrier up before I started."
"And then you vanished the bricks, and a tidal wave of filth rolled out – " said Daphne, remembering the smell.
"I did knock it back" interrupted Potter.
"For a moment. Well done, then it covered you, and filled the kitchen to knee-high" said Daphne.
George laughed "Oh, I missed it. Next time you do something messy, give me an owl beforehand."
"So you can help?" asked Daphne.
"So I can come and laugh" said George. "Man who conquered, covered in slime, that'd be hard to beat."
George liked the passage, thought the coal-bin had potential "If we'd known about it, the mess we could have made" he said, nostalgically.
Potter opened the back door and led George up to the back courtyard.
"This... is Grimmauld place?" said George "It's nice. You could have a picnic here."
"Harry puts a beach chair out for me on the weekends when the weathers nice" said Daphne.
"You charmer, you" said George, but he was halfway to the coach house already.
"What's in here?" he asked.
"It's a coach house; opens onto a muggle back-street, so I get deliveries into it, and it's a tool-shed." said Potter.
"Harry's got his own back shed?" asked George "You're really copying my dad. Mrs Black expecting a bunch of little Blacks soon?"
Daphne felt an almost overpowering urge to hex George Weasley in the head. How DARE HE suggest she'd have… a bunch of little Blacks.
"Our family succession is secure in Edward" said Daphne coldly.
George Weasley suddenly looked away, then poked around in the tool-shed, accompanied by Potter.
"You've got tools?" he asked loudly "Like, actual tools?"
"Most of them were in the kitchen cupboard" said Potter "Some were in the boiler room"
"The warm door we walked past" said George.
Daphne waited for them to come back into the garden, then said "We should show your guest the first floor, then perhaps call it a night."
Potter looked over at her and… he looked annoyed. And then nodded. What? Had that crack of George Weasley's annoyed him too?
Daphne led the way back inside, glad to be in robes, lest Potter and George Weasley ogle her on the stairs. As they climbed to the first floor, Potter recounted the t-shirt idea.
"Yeah, that's easy. Half to St Mungos. Good idea." he said. "They could do with some more money."
As they got to the last corner landing before the first floor, Potter said "George, close your eyes, I'll lead you up. The surprise will work better that way."
"As long as there's not a naked portrait of Umbridge" said George.
Daphne wondered what went on in his mind, to think of something so awful.
George and Potter stopped in the first floor hall, and Potter said "Right, open your eyes."
"Windows over the doors" said George, sounding surprised. "And why are there three doors; there were only two."
"The office was hidden" said Potter. Daphne looked at Potter curiously, he hadn't mentioned that. "Un-hidden the day I came to see your family with the seal ring." How could that have happened? Daphne wondered, and put that to one side.
Daphne said "The calculator is in the office."
George Weasley looked around the office quietly and eyed the calculator and blinked "That's not magic, and not technology?"
"Clockwork" said Potter.
Then Daphne said "Drawing room next."
George agreed again to close his eyes.
"This is… actually nice… cor; nice wedding photo. Harry looks like he has a stick up his bum, but still." said George.
"He looks more cheerful in the outdoor photos" offered Daphne.
"You looked better in the outdoor photos" said Harry. Daphne felt a vague sense of… ease at Potter being… nice.
"Now the library" said Potter.
"Shall I close my eyes again?" asked George.
"Well, it's not that different" said Daphne. Potter snorted.
"Its… like it's not even revolting. No doxies, no mould. It smells nice. Broomstick wax and roses." George sniffed "Are you using cloves to keep insects away?" The room smelt of Potter, of his mysterious cologne.
"Still lots of cursed books" said Potter, shoving his paperwork into neater piles.
"So you work in here?" asked George
"Daphne does more of the paperwork, so she gets the office" said Potter.
"If this is like this" said George "I have to see the rest. Mrs Black's got things under control."
Daphne felt weirdly … like showing off the house was a team activity. And… her annoyance at George's question about children had diminished. Just showing off what they'd done so far… it had been a lot of work but … it had been a team effort, and Potter had done well, with a little direction.
"Second Floor" said Daphne.
Potter led George up the stairs, and Daphne followed. "I've finished doing all the bedrooms. Daphne works out the colours, and I colour charm things. Well, and there's new carpets, and curtains."
But George was evidently most surprised by the bathroom. Thankfully free of Astoria's mess right now.
"The loo is clean," said George "Magic!"
"Muggle chemistry" said Daphne "Harry knows a thing or two." Potter … was he blushing?
"These rooms are actually nice" said George, inspecting the two back bedrooms overlooking the gardens.
"During the day, they're lighter" said Daphne.
"All them windows" mused George.
The second floor, George peeked around.
"Harry" he asked "Can you clean up my flat?"
"He costs fifty galleons an hour" said Daphne.
"Oh come on Harry!" said George.
Potter stared at George with a look of slight boredom, and nodded.
"Nicely Done, Mrs Black" he said, and tipped his hat.
"If I visit, can I have the big room?" he asked.
"That's a family room" said Daphne "You can have one of the ones on the first floor."
Potter disagreed "George is practically family. You can have the small front room, we could set it up in a suitably girly way for you." He was making fun of George. George was basically his adopted older brother, she realised.
"Not the big front room?" asked George.
"Astoria's room" said Daphne.
"The one upstairs is the same" said George.
"This floor she gets the bathroom to herself" said Daphne. "I had to share a bathroom with her for fifteen years. I have a spare bathroom, she gets the room on the second floor."
The third floor, Potter simply pointed at Daphne's room and said "We had a builder in to fix it. Buckbeak left rather a mess."
"Can I see?" asked George.
"You may not enter, but you may observe" said Daphne, and she opened her bedroom door.
George looked in "Its... very nice" he said "Strange not seeing wrecked furniture and Hippogriff shit; the front bit's like a little sitting room."
"For private conversations with intimates, like my sister" said Daphne.
By the time they got to Harry's room George was casually ignoring the improvements.
Then he saw the views of London and the pictures on the walls "Bloody hell" said George "Best room in the house."
"And a bathroom with a view" said Potter smugly.
"And he's so selfish he won't swap" said Daphne jokingly.
"You could have Regulus's old room" said Potter "Same views and morning sun, It was what your mum thought you should have in the first place."
"But it's so much smaller than my room" said Daphne.
"So is mine" said Potter.
"I'd take the whole floor" said Daphne, waving her hand expansively.
"Dance music Harry?" said George, looking through the records.
"Dance practice, after lessons with Daphne, I practised up here" said Potter.
"Anything interesting up in the attic?" asked George.
"Less junk" said Potter honestly "Same attic."
George sighed "Well this has been a fun tour. Which way should I go home?"
"Well, you can apparate of the back courtyard" said Potter "But floos' probably easier"
"Is there a back doorbell?" asked George.
"No" said Potter "Front door for that."
"Can I apparate down?" asked George.
"Sure" said Potter, and everyone vanished in a volley of cracks to reappear in the kitchen.
"So the table's shrunk" said George, headed to the floo. "What happened to the chairs?"
"They went back where they were taken from" said Daphne "The dining room, the drawing room, and assorted bedrooms".
"How many are there?" asked George.
"Fourteen, and eight chimneys" said Potter, rather precisely.
George left via the fireplace in a flare of green flames to "Georges pad."
"That could have gone better" said Potter.
"He tried" said Daphne graciously.
"He annoyed you" said Potter. "I'm sorry."
"Our problems, and lack of a relationship are nobody's business but our own" said Daphne.
"Yeah" said Potter. "I'll have a word before the party with my friends. Make sure they don't irritate you."
"And you were not irritated at all" said Daphne sarcastically.
"Well yes" said Potter tightly "Time for bed."
And he certainly wasn't hinting at anything.
-==0==-
Harry's birthday finally happened.
People brought presents, Ron was polite-ish and everyone sang Happy birthday.
Daphne waited till everyone had gone home, and saw that Potter was going to bed.
She apparated to her room, and took off her shoes, and the blue dress, and put on her cream silk dressing gown. Mmm. Then, less pleasurably she got out the wedding night robes, and the potion vial, went to the bathroom and … freshened up, and stripped naked, and put on the wedding night robes. Her reflection looked... well. They certainly were very… salacious. She put her slippers on, and her house-coat, put her wand on one pocket, the potion vial in the other, went to the bathroom, cleaned her teeth, and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. It is traditional, she reminded herself.
Lamp light was spilling onto the hall from Potters' transom window. She stood staring at his door for minutes, wishing she had a husband she loved instead of Potter, before knocking.
"What?" asked Potter.
Daphne opened the door. Potter was in those awful grey pyjamas, and looked puzzled.
"Husband." she said, feeling chills of nerves.
"Daphne" asked Potter "What is it?"
"It is your birthday. If you insisted. We could… have relations" she said, and felt her face redden.
"Thanks for the offer, but I don't think either of us is comfortable with that." said Potter. Oh god no.
Daphne screwed her courage to the stopping-place, walked into his bedroom and kissed Potter on the cheek said "Good night Harry" and fled.
And if she went to her bed in her wedding night robes...well it was his bloody birthday. And… well it was very silky, and she was waiting so… Daphne pleasured herself. Not thinking about Potter, obviously.
Daphne woke up from a dream about that handsome partially mute stable-boy from the novel about Princess whatshername. And… well again.
-==0==-
Samhain comes, and Potter's moping, even though Teddy's been here all week.
Daphne points out at lunchtime that nothing bad is happening; Potter is at home.
"We could do with another business idea" said Daphne.
"I guess we can sell wooden boxes" said Potter. "Astoria liked our boxes"
"Your box" corrected Daphne "Speaking of which, Astoria's certain Draco's getting sick."
"Sick?" asked Potter.
"He has a persistent cough according to the letter." said Daphne.
"Lots of inmates get it" said Potter "I wouldn't worry about it."
Weeks of work went past.
Daphne was reading the Daily Prophet, when she saw that Draco S. Malfoy was reported dead at Azkaban prison, cause of death pneumonia, so she banished it into Potter's arrogant face. Tori would be heartbroken.
"I was wrong" said Potter, as he read it.
"She'll come to see us, so be nice" said Daphne. Andromeda sent a letter of consolation to the head of Black as Draco was technically a Black. Daphne of course had to send cards from Potter to the Black family – one in return to Andromeda, one to Tori, and lastly one to Narcissa at Azkaban.
Daphne wrote an angry little missive in Narcissa's card 'My prison has no bars or dementors'.
Astoria arrived that morning, in black, looking lined and tired.
"Astoria" said Potter, tipping his head.
"I had hopes that he would finish his sentence and come home" said Astoria tightly.
Potter cleared off to work on some lost roof tiles elsewhere. Daphne ordered Kreacher to go and make tea.
Astoria waited till the front door shut before busting into tears. Daphne hugged her sister, patting her back. "I'm sorry" said Daphne, as Malfoy, while definitely deserving prison, had he deserved to die there? Did anyone? Astoria slopped tea around, and ate the scone Kreacher had provided half-heatedly. She really needed a pick-me-up.
"Kreacher!" said Daphne loudly, and the house elf appeared with a pop.
"Kreacher, does master still have sweets in the box on the shelf?" asked Daphne.
"Kreacher is not sure" mumbled Kreacher.
"Bring them to us." said Daphne imperiously "Tori, you can have any sweets Potter's left in the tin."
Kreacher vanished with a pop and reappeared holding the tin Potter had put the sweets he'd bought on their first trip into muggle London.
Daphne took the tin and opened it. It was… Had Potter only eaten a few squares of chocolate? Was there something wrong with him? Well, something else wrong?
She handed the whole tin to Tori, who picked up a brightly wrapped bar, stripped the end off and started chomping. Astoria swallowed and said "Nougat" said then took another bite. Daphne tried not to gag.
Astoria ran out of enthusiasm for chocolate after demolishing half a tablet of something called 'Cadbury's', and sipped her tea, then drew her wand, charmed her cup and sipped her reheated tea.
The cup had chocolate stains on the edge. Daphne tried not to look at her sisters mouth, once again chocolate marred. She sipped tea – cold tea, discontentedly. And eyed the tin of muggle sweets. What were black cats anyway?
Lunch was awkward. Potter avoiding eye-contact with either of them.
Daphne decided that Astoria needed a change, to go shopping. And they hadn't been muggle-shopping in ages. And the muggles did seem oddly harmless, for a bunch of slathering witch-burners. And… Astoria had polished off Potter's sweets.
Potter, nonetheless, caught sight of her in muggle clothes that afternoon, with Astoria; they were going out.
"Going shopping?" asked Harry, in jeans and a jersey.
"You can come and help" said Daphne tightly. Teddy was asleep, and Kreacher promised to be good.
The afternoon out went badly. Some slick young man with a fancy haircut tried to pick Astoria up. She snapped at him "My husband died yesterday, you heartless brute."
The young man trembled in fright, apologised inarticulately and walked away quickly.
Daphne put an arm around Astoria and gave her a half hug.
"Astoria, what did you think of Gilderoy Lockheart? He would have taught you in first year" Potter asked.
Astoria looked at Harry and squinted "He was terrible. Absolutely dishy, but terrible" she said "I don't think I learnt anything useful all year."
"I wish he'd told us his hair-care secrets" said Daphne "That, he was good at."
Astoria giggled "He did have lovely hair."
Astoria bought little but ate a large slice of chocolate torte. Daphne bought replacement sweets at Tesco.
Daphne, however got another pair of jeans – the slime-disaster memorial pair had never come completely clean.
