"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 Seven: Yule goes horribly wrong.

Potter, it seemed was functionally fairly harmless, and really did leave her to do what she liked, so Daphne decided she would have Tracey over for afternoon tea on Saturday. Tracey was her oldest, dearest friend, and had a sense of humour, which was required to cope with Potter. Tracey's sense of humour should be an effective foil to Potter's sarcasm, arrogance and … sulkiness. And Lil and Perks could come too. Perks could be proof that Daphne wasn't some old-school bigot. Tori would of course need to come also as it would be a diversion.

She sent out invitations on Wednesday, and the bloody owl bit her, repeatedly.

Tracy agreed to come by return owl on Thursday, and Daphne began to make plans.

On Saturday morning, she went to McGregor's patisserie in Diagon Alley to pick out tea-cakes. And so as to not make a pig of herself, she merely tasted, made a list, and had all the things she tried boxed up. Kreacher and the owl 'Salazar' could eat them, and hopefully the owl would die, vile beast that it was. Daphne made sure the sales-witch understood that this was Mrs Blacks 'standard order' and summoned Kreacher to demonstrate what her house elf was. Then she signed a direct-debit agreement, and pressed the Potter key to it to leave a mark for Gringotts.

"Mrs Black" said the sales-witch politely, packing another box of un-nibbled pastries and tiny cakes. Daphne had Kreacher take both boxes home, and left, nose in the air, feeling quite the successful witch.

Daphne got changed after lunch into muggle clothes as per her agreement with the git, and waited in the kitchen that afternoon, loading the tea-tray with a better class of tea-leaves, and a teapot that had been a wedding present from her great-aunt.

Tracey stepped out of the fireplace in a flare of green flames.

"Wow" said Tracey, looking around "I love what you've done with it. It's so… dingy, yet, functional."

"This is so improved." said Daphne, "Come on, "I'll take you on the tour. Kreacher, I'm expecting guests."

Kreacher grovelled. "Mistress" he croaked.

"What, Kreacher?" Daphne asked.

Kreacher retrieved a letter from his dingy habit. "Mistress got a letter"

Daphne shuddered and took the letter from Kreacher, and immediately recognised the handwriting on the letter as Tori's. She opened the letter, trying not to handle it more than necessary, and read the short note.

'Dear Sis,

Pool furniture has finally arrived. But assembly is required. I've got some helpful friends around to help out. Sadly will miss old lady tea and cake. Shame.

Mrs Astoria Malfoy.'

Daphne was tempted to incinerate the letter with a fire-making charm, but tossed it in the fireplace instead.

"Toris' not coming." said Daphne.

Tracey stopped on the ground floor, and admired the family portrait. "You look pretty smug" she observed. "He looks fine. Is he as handsome naked?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. As if. And Potter could look much more handsome than that photograph. And his naked form held no interest whatsover. Nope. Besides, once you'd seen him in a t-shirt and jeans, Daphne was fairly sure there was nothing unseen.

"Come on upstairs. We're going to use the drawing room." said Daphne.

"What's that?" asked Tracey, jerking a thumb in the direction of the dining room "Huge table?"

"Dining room. Big enough for the whole Black clan… once upon a time." said Daphne.

Daphne climbed the stairs towards the first floor.

Tracey audibly sniffed "Your house smells of roses. Nice roses. A bit spendy?"

Daphne scoffed "He's got a good flower-conjuring charm."

"Those are conjured?" asked Tracey, sniffing again "He's got good attention to detail."

Daphne quickly pointed out the library, the office.

"What's that?" asked Tracey, obviously meaning the calculator.

"My secret" said Daphne "muggle calculating machine. I can do the accounts in days less than before. It can add up numbers, multiply, and divide."

"Hmm" said Tracey.

"It was a birthday present from… Potter" Daphne admitted.

"Cor." said Tracey "That's… bet he got thanked," and she winked.

Daphne blushed. Tracey giggled. Her mind lived in the gutter, honestly. It was one kiss.

Daphne swept past the visitors bedrooms to the drawing room. "Drawing room."

Tracey eyed the drawing room "It's… a bit fusty but… not foul."

Daphne sat on her favourite couch, and waved graciously at the other couch.

Tracey instead eyed the wedding photo on the wall "You both look like you've got sticks up your arses." she observed.

"Mummy likes it. It looks traditional" said Daphne. And yes, they both looked like dummies. And that was supposedly a wizarding photo, but looked as stationary as a muggle one.

"Who are those two cuties?" asked Tracey, walking over and looking at the Black Bothers' photo.

"The Black Brothers, Sirius and Regulus. Both dead, of course. Both died fighting against … you-know-who."

"Wow. Not what you'd expect from the Blacks. Historically I mean." said Tracey. The family had rather a reputation as… dark magic loving traditionalists.

Tracey investigated the china cabinet, and looked in the drawers.

"I'd expect all kinds of dark crap" said Tracey, inspecting unopened packs of playing cards, and exploding snap cards, and a chess set. "Chess set?"

"Wedding gifts." said Daphne. "The dark stuff was all cleared out years ago" Daphne lied. Potter had kept some very weird and dangerous things. That she'd tidied up.

Tracey sat in a chair and stretched out "Fairly comfy. Can he play piano?"

"No" said Daphne. And he insisted on silence. No music for me.

"Well you can play for him" said Tracey, and snorted softly. Daphne made a rude gesture. Pianos are stupid anyway. I can sing. Could sing.

Daphne heard the distinctive sound of feet on the landing, then of Potter moving the chair in the library.

"Harry Dear!" Daphne called. He did it, he could eat some 'married family' flavoured verbal mud pies for a change.

Potter came in, so Daphne made introductions.

"This is my good friend Tracey Davis. Tracy, my husband Harry; who's rather good at repairs and cleaning."

Potter smiled politely. And… that looked like a very practised expression.

"Harry, some of my friends are coming for tea, and I hoped you might stay and meet them." said Daphne. Potter's eyes narrowed visibly.

Potter nodded "Astoria coming?" he asked.

"My dear sister has a tiresome problem with the manor. You can stay here with Tracey, I need to guide my friends to the Drawing room." It was mostly true. Kitset furniture, how dire.

Daphne got up and left, apparating down to the kitchen, and checking on the tea-tray.

Perks and Lils arrived together, both in robes, and Perks looked Daphne up and down. "Normal clothes?" Daphne nodded "I'm not a dyed-in-the-wool old-school witch."

"And she married Potter. He probably rips her clothes off all the time" said Lils. Daphne gave Lils a good glare, and led them upstairs. Lils definitely spent far too much time with Tracey these days.

Lils spotted the clever bit in the family photo, where their wedding photo was in the background of the family photo. "Cor. Who did the photo?"

"Dennis Creevy, OM. He's Creevy Brothers Photography. Potter knows him from Gryffindor, Dumbledores' Army, and the war. He's an artist, and the youngest Order of Merlin ever" said Daphne.

"What, the little drip with the camera got an Order of Merlin?" asked Lils.

'That was his older brother." said Daphne.

"So you fancy him?" asked Perks.

"Dennis Creevy is a very angry artist. He's, as you can see, quite brilliant. No. I do not 'fancy him'. I'm married. The tall man in the photo. You may have heard of him." said Daphne.

Perks… burst out laughing. "Christ. You do have a sense of humour." she exclaimed.

"Not at school. She's terminally shy" said Lils "Course, she thought she had to marry Malfoy for two years, so that ruined her senior years."

"Thanks Lils." said Daphne, and Lils smiled coldly.

"Why'd you call Moon Lils?" asked Perks.

"Well, people assume she's a Lily," said Daphne, "and Lilith's a bit of loaded name." Mother of Demons.

"Not. Having. Kids." said Lils. "It's that simple. Mama can suck a gris-gris bag." Lils was mostly mellow, but the insulting name was what it was. At least it was only my middle name that was bad.

Daphne took them upstairs, and pointed out the library "Black family Library, a bit cursed, so don't go in. Family rooms on the next floor, mine on third, and He's on fourth."

Perks lifted her eyebrows, and Daphne led them past the office towards the Drawing room.

"… like you've already had a kid" Tracey was saying from the drawing room. "You should smile more often."

Daphne led Lils and Sally-Anne into the drawing room, where Potter was sitting on a chair, in the corner, and Tracey had clearly just given him her thoughts.

Potter was in muggle clothes, of course.

"My husband's rules. Muggle clothes apart from meals" explained Daphne, one eyebrow raised.

Daphne called Kreacher, who popped in Tea and pastries are served, and polite conversation happens. Potter is quiet. But takes tea.

"Mister Black" asked Sally-Anne nervously "Is it true you are going to run for a Wizengamot seat?"

"Oh god no," exclaimed Potter, "I can't stand that place. I'm happy repairing buildings and things like that. Daphne keeps me busy, and I have my Godson Teddy most weekdays."

"You keep busy with Daphne then?" asked Lils, suggestively. Tracey smirked.

"We have over a dozen rentals, all dilapidated. Daphne works out with the tenants what needs done, and I do it" said Potter. "I know you're all Daphne's friends. It's an arranged marriage by Cyrus and Aunt Narcissa; though they were expecting my cousin. I'm not ever going to force Daphne to do anything, yes I understand we'll have to have a child, children at some point, no I won't cheat on Daphne with Ginny Weasley, and… I won't try to have two wives, like Cousin Draco." said Potter "Is that about all the questions?" he asked politely. He'd… he must have rehearsed that, thought Daphne. He can be such a… celebrity.

Lily shook her head "Whose idea was the portrait in the hall. It's great."

An hour later, Daphne was telling the sludge story again, with gales of laughter. Potter sits quietly, and looks, to Daphne's mind, like he's being snidely tolerant.

"So then Harry vanished the door and a tidal wave of black, stinky mud covered him" said Daphne. "I can show you all later. Of course, Harry cleaned it all up that night, and within a week, had the back courtyard grassed in, had Neville Longbottom come over and plant some rosebushes, and replaced all the doors. Oh, and fixed the hot water boiler. Harry's very handy."

"Can he really dance now?" asked Tracey. "I mean a foxtrot?"

"Harry, my friends doubt us" said Daphne, and she stood up "You'll have to avoid the furniture."

Potter shook his head "Upstairs landing. There's no room here."

Potter led them up to the top floor landing.

"Oh Merlin, what a beautiful room" cried Sally-Anne, somewhat artificially, of the landing; it was fairly spacious, Daphne supposed.

Potter started the phonograph and he and Daphne demonstrated a fairly adequate waltz, with lifts. He was quite strong.

Daphne's friends were crowded on the stairs, and in the doorways.

"Can he dance with us?" asked Lils "Or can he only dance if you subtly direct?"

"I'm shocked" said Potter "I'll have you know I only dance with my wife."

Daphne clapped softly and looked impressed "As you can see, I have Harry trained, but Lily, if you would, Harry, please."

Lils waltzed with Potter; Potter could clearly still dance.

Tracey was flipping though the pile of parchment by the phonograph. "He really did use Quidditch plays?" she asked.

"It worked" said Potter, walking over and stopping the music.

"Potter, please publish this so that stupid boyfriends can dance" said Lils "It's a service to the witches of England."

"I'm only servicing one witch in England, Sorry" said Potter deadpan.

Daphne sighed. Fucking sarcastic jerk. He went there.

"Did… did Harry Potter just make a joke about – " asked Sally-Anne.

"Yes, he did" said Daphne, not blushing, giving Potter a good glare "You can go do something you'd like to do now."

"Thank you dear" said Potter deadpan, and got a coat from his room, then apparated away. Sarcastic son-of-a-bitch.

"So, is he any good?" asked Tracey.

"Not discussing that" said Daphne. "I do have a rather special photograph to show off."

"Oh, the cool mirror." said Tracey. "Where is it?"

"My room" said Daphne and led her friends down a floor to her bedroom, and into it.

"Crikey, this is bigger than our Dorm!" said Sally-Anne.

Daphne pointed out her photo, which Daphne had contrived to put on the wall so she could see it from her dresser mirror.

Lils stared at it "How did he do that?" she asked.

"That's right clever" said Sally-Anne. "And you look miserable."

"Well, you know. Forced to marry a man against my will, that sort of thing" said Daphne very sarcastically.

"Hang on. You can see it in the mirror" said Lils. "If you sit at the dresser?"

Daphne sat at the dresser and eyed her photo. Her double-photo. It… it was good art, even if it just reminded her of what she'd lost. Sally-Anne crouched down and looked over her shoulder.

"This could be another one" said Sally-Anne "Did he suggest putting it there?"

"That was my idea, actually "said Daphne.

"Well. It's good" said Sally-Anne. "You're horribly famous now." Horribly famous was a good description really.

"She hates it" said Tracey perceptively.

Lils gently shoved Sally-Anne out of the way and peered over Daphne's shoulder at her reflection, and the reflected photo.

"Daphne" said Lils quietly "Be very careful about being between two mirrors. There's… there's things grandpere said, Might be all bull-dust but… don't."

"And also, if she's dressed to impress, she might just get stuck, like any normal witch" said Tracey. "Shy-arse friends who get married in that dress."

"Oh, is the dress around?" asked Sally-Anne, sounding excited, and clearly meaning her wedding dress.

"Not putting it on" said Daphne "It needs special underwear."

"Do corsets hurt?" asked Sally-Anne "It's just… you've made it the fashion."

Daphne rolled her eyes. This was getting weirdly like being in dorms again, but without all the … blood purity shit. Well, and Pansy… or … because of Pansy. If this had been dorms, thought Daphne, I'd have had a lot more fun. Sally-Anne was quite… quite good fun, and not a gross as Tracey could be.

"Does anyone play your piano?" asked Lils.

"Daphne's rubbish" said Tracey, as a supportive friend.

"Um, I can play" offered Sally-Anne. "I got to level seven in Piano?"

And Sally-Anne went to the Drawing room, and opened the grand piano, and tapped a few notes. The notes filled the room; and it wasn't out of tune. That's a surprise thought Daphne.

Then Sally-Anne sat down, and without sheet-music played a minute or so of what was recognisably a Beethoven piece. She stopped "Sorry I'm a bit rusty?" said Sally-Anne.

"Bloody hell" said Tracey. "You're good."

"Uh… I'm not that good. This was an exam piece." said Sally-Anne.

"Can you play from scores?" asked Daphne.

"Course?" said Sally-Anne.

"In the stool"

Sally-Anne got off and rummaged. "Wow. These are … traditional stuff. Huh. Rest ye merry hippogriffs. There's… never-mind."

"Tea's all very nice" said Tracey "Is there any booze?"

"Cabinet" said Daphne blandly.

Tracey got out the brandy and poured a small glass, and sipped it. "Uh! It's piss."

"It's been there for a few years" said Daphne. "There's decent cognac, and the port's drinkable. And about a dozen assorted fire-whiskeys, all wedding presents."

"Can you drink those?" asked Lils.

"You open the top, pour it into a glass, and drink it" said Daphne. Honestly, Potter didn't drink and Daphne had no interest in wallowing in alcohol. She had a horse and a sister with a heated pool.

Pastries go well with fire-whiskey, thought Daphne, as Sally-Anne played traditional Christmas tunes on the piano. They raucously sung God rest ye merry hippogriffs, and Daphne, lubricated by some drink, attempted a descant.

Everyone stopped singing, Sally-Anne faltered, then her right hand shot up the piano, and she started playing the descant. Daphne breathed in and started really belting it out… it felt... good.

"She's bloody brilliant" said Tracey, once she and Perks had finished.

"Are you trained?" asked Sally-Anne.

"Just choir at Hogwarts" said Daphne.

"And at home" said Tracey. "You've been singing?"

"No" said Daphne, He wants quiet, arsehole.

"You should sing" said Sally-Anne.

-==0==-

Yule got closer and mummy talked to her after she came in from currying Buttercup, who was getting quite slow. Which isn't fair, she's only twenty, thought Daphne.

"Yule dahlink. We're having everyone for Yule. Bring … your husband." said mummy.

"What about… great-grandmama?" asked Daphne.

"Well, not her, obviously" said Mummy. "Your father won't give them a portkey."

"She hates daddy" said Daphne bluntly. I'm Mrs Black, I can say things to my mother.

"That's true." said mummy "But she loves you. And… doesn't say anything bad about your husband."

"I can do that" said Daphne "He's an arrogant, smug arsehole who makes my life worse by being alive."

Mummy crossed her arms "Please darlink, We're sorry." Daphne left in a huff.

Daphne was resigned to making sure he wore a respectable robe, had used Sleekeazeys, and had shoes that weren't some stupid old pointy things on.

Over dinner that night she raised it.

"Husband" she said.

"Hmm?" asked Potter, looking up from his plate.

"Yule this year will be at my parents. My extended family are coming. Can you come, and please be polite?" asked Daphne.

"Oh joy" said Harry. "Is there booze?"

Daphne rolled her eyes "Yes, but don't get drunk and start a fight."

"Cor" said Potter, with a twisted grin "My first proper Christmas with the in-laws. Drinking, tying not to fight." He was such a sarcastic git.

"Yuletide" said Daphne. "But yes, you are correct."

"Andy and Teddy?" asked Potter, quite seriously.

"We could ask, but not normally." said Daphne.

"Weasleys for them – where the food will be great. Is the food great at your parents at yule?" asked Potter.

"Of course" said Daphne "It's not excessive, like Hogwarts, but the food will be good. You can come to dinner with me beforehand, to get used to it if you want?"

"I'd rather not. I don't like your parents for what they did to me. Well, us really" said Potter, sounding oddly thoughtful. Had the inconsiderate arse actually thought of her for once?

As he was going as the head of the Black family, he needed better robes. Daphne dragged him along to Twilfitt and Tatting for black robes embroidered with silver along the edges that brought out his eyes, and frankly, the black gave his bloody cheekbones more emphasis. Daphne shook her head at patterned buttons.

"Oh, I dunno" said Potter "Skulls maybe?" and he looked thoughtful. He was being flippant, arsehole that he was.

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him and he chuckled. "Plain buttons." she said. Had he done that just to annoy her? She started to really sympathise with poor Professor Snape.

"Ravens?" asked Potter, faux-innocently. He had.

"We have buttons that take well to transfiguration" suggested the seamstress.

Potter said, unexpectedly "I want those, they can be plain. One day my wife may consent for me to have patterned buttons" Daphne attempted murder by glare, but Potter just gave her brief crooked grin. He had a twinkle in his eyes like he had a scheme in mind. Pillock. How dare he give her a crooked grin and a glint in his eyes. They did NOT have that sort of relationship.

"I'll be good, dear" he said. He so was getting socks – he'd called her dear in public.

The finished robe came by floo-delivery a few days later, and Kreacher interrupted her in the office to tell her.

Daphne apparated down and opened the brown paper parcel and unfolded the robes onto the kitchen table. They looked… excellent. Better than the mock-up in the store.

"Where is your master?" she asked Kreacher.

"Master is out, Mistress." croaked Kreacher "Shopping for presents." What's he getting me? She wondered immediately, and remembered that she needed to go buy socks for everyone except Tori, and her friends. In fact… Would the Black's send their tenants a yule gift? Given our finances, a card. A cheap one.

Daphne apparated to the office, wrote out a yule shopping list, and decided that would be tomorrow problem. She took the robe to his room, and put it on his surprisingly tidy bed. For a man he was quite tidy, she supposed.

Potter came to dinner in his normal robes.

"The fancy robes look okay" he remarked. Okay?

"I want to see them on you" said Daphne. What if they didn't work?

Potter apparated to the drawing room after dinner, wearing the black robes with silver trim.

He looked… imperious, and the bluish haze on his chin and cheeks went annoyingly well with the robes. "Well?" he drawled, his cheekbones looking particularly pointy. He looked so much like what someone would think the head of an old pureblood family like the Blacks would look like, it was annoying. Much less narrow-faced than Draco Malfoy, who couldn't pull off a look like this robe. Potter looked down at her, vaguely irritated. Blaise Zabini could easily do a look like this, but Blaise was a terrible human being; possibly a bigger egotist that Potter, and an inveterate womaniser. And Theo Nott, well he looked like a badly transfigured small mammal.

"The robe suits you" admitted Daphne. Not giving him a compliment.

"I look like a pureblood arsehole" said Potter in a casual drawl.

"You're so close" said Daphne. Half-blood arsehole. Potter gave her a crooked grin, then suddenly his face darkened, as he frowned "I'm not wearing that medal" he said. What?

"The Order of Merlin. I won't wear it. It can stay in the fucking box" said Potter, and he glared at her. And his somewhat intimidating looks became suddenly cold and chilling. It was her imagination that the room was cooling off. Potter was powerful, sure but he wasn't dark-lord powerful.

"I… you never need to wear that" said Daphne.

"And I'm not being trotted around as the man who won either!" said Potter sharply, but the glare was gone.

"You come with me, stand around, eat, drink, ignore everyone if that's what you want to do" said Daphne.

Potter crossed his arms and tilted his head. The robes made it look quite… even more intimidating.

"Do that" said Daphne and she nodded "Everyone will be too scared to talk to you." I would be.

"Good" said Potter, and the hairs in the back of her neck stood on end. Daphne went to the office to check on paperwork. She certainly wasn't fleeing.

Having gathered her nerves, Daphne went to see mummy by floo, and explained that they were coming. Getting out of the house was a coincidence.

"Potter doesn't want to talk about anything" said Daphne "He'll come but if people talk to him he may be very sarcastic, and may lose his temper."

Mummy nodded. "Is he going to wear a flattering robe?"

"Yes" said Daphne, in a fairly sizeable understatement.

At yule, there were presents under the tree in the drawing room.

Potter got socks from her, The book 'Developments in modern counter-curses' from Granger, a jumbo box of Bertie Botts every flavour beans from Ron Weasley, a black scarf from Andromeda and a box of home-made fudge and a green Jersey with a yellow H knitted into it from the Weasleys.

Daphne got a pair of green silk knickers from Astoria, a day-planner from mummy, and a bottle of very good Cognac from daddy. Tracey had given her tickets to a quidditch match, Lils had sent a stone with a cord knotted through a hole in it, and unexpectedly, Perks had sent a muggle box of assorted biscuits. Potter recognised the brand "Oh. Those are um... good, muggle. Who sent them?"

"My friend Sally-Anne" said Daphne. And someone would be getting a late gift. A good chocolate assortment box, that should do. Daphne made a note.

Potter had given her a box that looked a lot like a book but wasn't heavy enough. Daphne unwrapped it, and it was a box of chocolates. An assortment of small chocolates from Guylian, whoever they were. Something muggle.

True to his word, on the afternoon of Yule, Potter put on the good black robes, slicked his hair with sleekeazys and looked… irritatingly handsome. The only thing worse than being married to the saviour of magical Britain unwillingly, was that he really scrubbed up. Sarcastic prat that he was.

Daphne, in a nice dress and sensible heels, with her hair in an updo that had taken an annoying amount of effort to get right, flooed to mummy's house; and Potter followed, and true-to form tripped on the way out of the floo, in the hallway. He stood up, and brushed himself off. Daphne vanished the soot from both of them, and pointed to the drawing room "Come along, husband. You aren't expected to talk to anyone."

Potter tried to lurk by the bookshelves and sipped cider – pulled a face and switched to butterbeer. Daphne was waved over by her grandmother and great-aunt. Daphne quickly checked on Potter, looking brooding – he was just sulking really. Sulking handsomely is not brooding.

Daphne chatted with grandmother, who was a dear, really, and grandfather, who was already a bit drunk, and great-uncle Adolphus, who was a … git. That reminded her, so she looked around and gratefully realised daddy's cousin Bertie wasn't here. Praise merlin; Bertie was an absolute berk. Still, the possibility was still that Bertie might meet Potter, annoy him and be … blasted into a red cloud was something to hold out hope for. Though Potter would probably be sarcastic, and Bertie was immune to sarcasm, on account of being either indifferent or drunk, but generally both.

A few of her cousins from Mummy side of the family were there, and Daphne said hello, and got caught up on who was married, who was expecting, or had children, and didn't your husband look handsome.

He's a git she thought to herself.

The buffet was it's usual yule goodness. Tori was stuffing her face.

Much later, she got talking to her great-aunt Serafina. The one whose mother had been in an arranged marriage.

Daphne sat down and listened to a typical old-witch story, but then great-aunt Serafina looked over at Potter and asked "So, when's the child."

"What child?" asked Daphne.

"You're due an heir for the family. When?" asked great-aunt Serafina.

"The Blacks finances are rather tenuous" said Daphne "I'm the business manager, so I'm busy. The heir for Greengrass will be later. I've got decades."

"That robe of his is new. You can afford a child." said great-aunt Serafina, annoyingly perceptively.

"It's an arranged-marriage, great-aunt Serafina" said Daphne "There is no possibility of an heir at the moment."

"My mother was in the same situation as you, and my oldest sister was born when she was twenty-six" said Great-Aunt Serafina. "You can complain about losing choices all you like, but at least he's handsome specimen – if a bit thin." Wiry really.

"I believe he is still in love with his old girlfriend" said Daphne.

"Love, shmove. You're in control. All you have to say is don't stop till I've had enough. Oh dear… is he … impotent or… just bad at it?" asked great-aunt Serafina.

Daphne declined to dignify such a rude question with a reply.

"Surely, with your mother's family inclinations, you two are … coupling regularly?" asked great-aunt Serafina. "Mother said it helped them bond."

Daphne was glad she was wearing foundation, and wished great-aunt Serafina had not come to yule.

After being silent for quiet some time, great-aunt Serafina drew her wand and started casting something, that Daphne suddenly suspected by one of the words being virginus was a chastity detection charm. The nerve of the old bat! Daphne stood up, trying to block the view for her family and snapped off a quick "Confundus!" then sat down right next to the old bat, and quietly finished the confounding, to have great-aunt Serafina remember casting the charm, and that the conversation had ended with 'yes Potter is a rotten shag.' Unfortunately, by the lull in conversation, everyone had seen or heard Daphne confound great-aunt Serafina.

Then she stood up and looked around the room, looking for Potter, architect of her misery. Who was hovering by the little sausages on sticks. He appeared to be methodically trying every possible sauce. She locked eyed with him and he clearly had seen what she had done, and looked sullen. Daphne felt so very angry at her so-called life, at Potter, at the stupid contract, at nosey old relatives… She gave him a good glaring-at, and headed his way, to take him home and really yell at him. And possibly curse him, if he's looking suitably distracted.

Potter's eyes followed her as she moved, and his face lost all expression, becoming an impassive mask, looking down a little on her, but in a cold, heartless way.

"Harry Dear, I've got a headache" said Daphne, at an unsubtle volume "Will you escort me home, dear." Because I am so angry I'm contemplating hexing The-man-who-won.

Potter's blank facade shivered. He turned slowly to face in the same direction as her, reached out gently, and took her elbow, and then he acted out helping Daphne to the floo. His acting skills were terrible, and the way his body moved seemed more nervous than reassuring, and the sight of his impassive face made her want to scream. So she kept her face focussed on the doorway, the hallway, the fireplace.

Potter actually managed a decent exit from the floo onto the kitchen floor at Grimmauld place, for a change, and stopped her from twisting an ankle in her heels. Potter let her go once she was back on both feet and stable.

"Lock the property down Harry. Full protections, block the floo" said Daphne. If only you were dead. Well, after you married me. But not in a way that got me arrested.

Potter drew his light coloured wand; rumours before the Tri-Wizard were that it was Yew, but it had come out that it was Holly, of all things. And he extinguished the fireplace with sputter, and then he chained the fire-irons together. That was… that would work, Daphne supposed.

The, like a half-shaved baboon, Potter scratched the back of his head and looked confused. Daphne inhaled, about to give him a price of her mind, and then Potter held up his wand, and cast something very strange. "Armoure Propere Torjes Pur" cast Potter, and dark smoke curled up out of the seams in the floor tiles and wrapped around him, then exploded outwards silently, but as the smoke hit Daphne, she felt it ripping through her, like a ghost, a cold, itchy feeling. Then the light from the gas lamps dimmed and turned green, until the kitchen was a greenish-hellscape.

Potter had just done Black family magic to secure the house. And she'd felt it, and … well she was Black now, so it wouldn't kill her.

"We're protected, Daphne. What's the matter?" asked Potter, in a curious tone. And seemed actually interested.

"Drawing room… no office, I need a drink" said Daphne, unable to deal with this right now, and she turned and disapparated to the office. She moved to the drinks cabinet, and moments later, Potter apparated in with a sharp crack. He had his wand out, and his eyes searched the room before he lowered it.

Daphne opened the wooden globe drinks cabinet, and got out two coupes and the good Cognac, and poured for them both.

She picked up a glass and sat on one of the couches "Sit, this is a long talk" she said, and sighed. She was so not in the mood to talk about this.

Harry picked up the couple of Cognac and sniffed it. He was looming a bit.

"Let it warm up a bit" said Daphne "Sit down."

Potter sat on the other facing couch and tugged at the neck of his dress robes.

Daphne took a drink. It was very good Cognac, and Daphne really wanted to get very drunk and forget today.

Potter sipped cognac.

"Great Aunt Serafina, she wanted to know why we, why I – " Oh god I don't want to be a mother. Not now. Not with HIM. Daphne took another drink. Cognac is good.

Potter sat there like an idiot. Gryffindor quidditch players are shaved monkeys.

"– Why I didn't have a baby" explained Daphne. "So I told her about the plan."

"The plan" said Potter, nodding.

"We have to get the business running smoother, get all the property making money" said Daphne.

"Which it almost is" said Potter. Curse Granger for giving him a basic book on business.

"I know that" said Daphne harshly "But she kept on about it. Then she tried…"

Daphne sat, feeling tense, then spoke up again "She started casting a chastity detection charm."

"There's a charm for that?" asked Potter.

"Well of course there is" said Daphne "I mean you can use a Unicorn if you've got one" she said and laughed, thinking about great-aunt Serafina bringing a unicorn to Yule. Feeding it hemp-cake. Having it beat Potter at chess.

Potter took a drink "What did you do?"

"I confunded my great aunt" said Daphne "At a family party" she said "It's mortifying."

"It would be difficult to explain the result of the charm" said Potter, visibly swallowing without having drunk Cognac.

"Without my gossipy relatives spreading it all around. Grandmother Greengrass would probably have a heart-attack."

"She's nice" observed Potter.

"I'm glad you think so" said Daphne politely. "So, we'll have to … deal with the problem." Potter could doubtless get great-aunt Serafina banged into Azkaban, and that wouldn't do. Or kill her, she supposed. He had killed a number of people in the battle of Hogwarts.

Potter drank, then looked at her and took a bigger drink.

"I don't want to kill her" said Potter. He didn't want to?

"I was going to say, I don't expect you to murder my Great aunt." said Daphne, feeling squiffy. Cognac was tricksy that way.

Potter nodded, and gulped cognac.

"So we'll have to move our schedule up a bit" said Daphne, trying not to choke.

"And have a child?" said Potter, going grey in the face. His mouth hung open. He was scared too.

"No" said Daphne. Oh god, she had to say this. "Just… fornicate. Just the once, so the spell won't work."

"On me either" admitted Potter. Daphne tried not to stare. Surely Potter had actually had Weasley, and after the battle of Hogwarts? Surely he didn't just drink tea and play exploding snap. He'd been the hero who'd defeated Voldemort, and while Potter had looked utterly exhausted, and the final fight with the dark lord had been some strange fluke… he was still the greatest Hero alive. If there hadn't been a horrible contract, and Potter hadn't been with Weasley, and … somehow Daphne had been nearby at the time, she'd have… given him a kiss on the cheek at least. And who wouldn't have gone to a broom closet with him? Well, Pansy…

Daphne was jolted out of her thoughts by Potter talking. "So are we going to… it seems a bit. Awkward."

"Oh god no." said Daphne. That was then, this is now and we're in an arranged marriage. And I'm not that drunk, and he hates me. Daphne said "We'll work up to it slowly. I'm certainly not going to try to … not with you not today." Oh god not today.

Potter sighed, clearly relieved, and took another large gulp of Cognac.

Daphne felt her annoyance at the whole situation turn like a flame-whip onto Potter, who was clearly disgusted at the thought of … relations with her. How Dare he!

"Are you honestly that disgusted by the idea of relations with me?" asked Daphne. She was pure and clean and… they were married, and maybe the French Teen Witch Weekly had doctored the photos a bit, but she was still pretty enough Madam Desha thought she was a decent model for her dress.

"More… it seems like the most awkward idea, after asking girls to the ball aged fourteen" said Potter.

And… somehow the burning anger in her chest went out. He… wasn't disgusted by the idea? Just… incompetent with girls… he'd been such a celebrity failure on the run-up to the school ball. There were very few witches who wouldn't have gone with him, and he asked almost nobody…. And his feeble attempts at a waltz.

Daphne snorted "You made such a poor showing." she said. He was a good dancer now, of course. All her own work. She felt a warm, alcohol-infused pride.

"It's easy if you're the girl, you just form a pack and giggle at boys" said Potter.

Daphne chuckled at the memory of everyone giggling at Potter, of Potter fleeing from groups of girls like they were firing hexes. "You're amusingly pathetic at dating." she said.

"Says Mrs Black" said Potter. "So what's the plan?" Had he just… he'd turned that dig around. Sarcastic git. Still, we need a plan. Not shagging… something possible. Kissing? He'd kissed her, at their wedding. He could kiss. Yes, kissing.

"We'll… kiss. We'll kiss and then... we'll kiss every day till" said Daphne. Oh god sex? With … with him?

"Till it stops sounding so awful" said Potter bluntly. Yes, he hates me as much as I hate him. "Am I going to die of liver failure first?" asked Potter.

"We can't just get drunk every day" said Daphne "We have work to do." If only the business was making real money.

Harry stood up "Come on, best start today" Oh god. He was ready to kiss her.

"I'm not doing this because I want to … with you" said Daphne. Her heart was trying to leave her body.

"Understood" said Harry "We need to cover up this… marriage a bit."

"Indeed" said Daphne, taking a belt of cognac and standing, a little wobbly.

Potter swallowed awkwardly. How to start. Oh god he can't… I can't… something not awkward?

"This is incredibly awkward" said Daphne, holding out a hand "Start by kissing my hand. It's not done much any more, but it's good manners." Well it was when her grandmother was her age.

Potter seized her hand like a lifeline.

"You kiss my knuckles" said Daphne. "Air kissing for relatives. And just a peck."

Potter's calloused fingers held Daphne's hand and lifted it up. Did he have no idea how to do this too?

"Bend down a bit too" said Daphne. Shaved monkeys.

Potter bent over her hand and kissed her knuckles. His hand was strong and calloused yet his lips were so soft, his kiss feather-light. Daphne swallowed. It's just hand-kissing.

"Well, do it again; try to make it look like you're doing it because you want to" said Daphne.

Potter kissed her knuckles again. By the fourth time, Daphne was getting accustomed to it. It was not … unpleasant and didn't seem… sexual. Potter was bowing decently now too.

Then suddenly he froze, and gently turned her wrist and sniffed her pulse-point. What on earth was he up to?

"What are you doing?" said Daphne sharply, pulling her hand back. He was not going to lick her pulse-point! Her toes clenched in nervousness.

"Sniffing your perfume. It's rather elegant." said Potter with a crooked smile. Daphne was surprised by his… suddenly charming comment, but her long-standing annoyance about his lack of cologne came out, lubricated by cognac. "Well as you never use cologne, I can't compliment yours."

"Cologne?" asked Potter.

"You put it on your neck after shaving" said Daphne, and Potter cringed.

"Don't like any cologne?" asked Daphne. "You're an odd duck."

"The only stuff I've ever smelt was Dean's and Seamus's in the dorms." said Potter "It smelt awful."

"Well you could go find something you like the smell of. You'd put it on after shaving" said Daphne. He was an uncultured swine. Great-grandmama would say something very caustic in German about his lack of polish. Just to get to use the hard consonants.

"The blokes in dorms only used it for balls and parties" said Potter.

Daphne put her hands on her hips. "They were Boys. Men wear cologne daily; if they're of the right social class" she said.

"Oh, a pure-blood thing" said Potter dismissively.

"Well if you don't want to smell nice, that's your problem" said Daphne. "You should go to Archers and Javelins in Diagon, and see if they have anything you like. For reference; the party we were at, was definitely a cologne occasion, regardless how low class you want to be."

And she left the office to go and metaphorically curse her father and Narcissa Malfoy.

Her pillow was nice and soft and absorbed her tears quite well.

-==0==-

Daphne had a hangover, and she avoided breakfast, taking a tray.

She went to see Buttercup, then went home to handle tenants, and made a list for Potter, which she left in the library. A long bath called to her.

She felt fortified by a ride and long bath, so she dressed for lunch, and apparated to the ground floor, and walked into the dining room, to see Potter reading the Daily Prophet. He had obviously heard her crack of apparation, as he put the Prophet down, stood up, and walked towards Daphne.

What the hell is he up to, she wondered.

"Your Hand?" asked Potter, rather formally, in severe robes. He looked… like a proper wizard.

Daphne held out her hand, Potter's calloused hand took her hand, and then Potter bent over her hand and kissed her knuckles. He'd… got it right and … that kiss was again feather-light.

Potter let her hand go "How was your morning" he asked. And… there was a smell around Potter, an odd smell. Like… broomstick wax and something else. Daphne sniffed. Definitely a smell.

"Where did you go?" asked Daphne.

"Archers and Javelins" said Potter. "ninety-eight-seventeen, I think" said Potter mysteriously, and he sat down for lunch.

Potter was being intentionally mysterious. Had he actually gone and got cologne? "Did you get something?" she asked.

"Yes" said Potter. "And I found it an odd process, but I've done it, so I'm good for cologne for a good long time."

"And what is it?" asked Daphne.

"It's mine" said Potter evasively, "I think I could get used to it, and that's good enough."

"And If I want to buy you more for your birthday?" asked Daphne.

"Then Mr Blankely will sell you some." said Potter drily "But you'll have to identify yourself as Mrs Black, and I'll leave you the tester; it's in my bathroom as proof." He smelt nice, and was being… mysterious.

"You're being very mysterious Harry" said Daphne.

"This is new improved, mysterious Harry" said Potter "What's vissop" he said "I had a pretty thick head this morning" he admitted.

"Cognac" said Daphne. Oh, he was back to being an oik. Daphne's hopes fell like a butterfly hit by a killing curse.

Over dinner Potter mentioned "We'll need to do… practice tonight." and looked at the floor.

"Kissing Only" said Daphne. Potter nodded.

After dinner, Potter went to the study with her, and she poured cognac for them both.

Daphne had a belt of Cognac and felt it burn all the way down. Potter sipped Cognac thoughtfully for a while, Daphne matching him sip for sip, then Potter stood up. Daphne stood up. He bent over her hand and kissed it.

Again, that felt quite convincingly polite. He let her hand go. His hands were dry and calloused.

Daphne summoned up her annoyance with her great-aunt, and stepped into Potter's personal space.

Potter leaned forward, tilted his head and kissed her on the lips. And… he smelt of cognac and broom-polish and something else. And… that kiss had been so soft and fleeting.

Potter was standing up straight, eyeing her, looking for a reaction.

"That's twice now" said Daphne. It wasn't that good a kiss. It had been quite short, for starters.

Potter leaned in and kissed her again, and he didn't stop kissing her, so very softly, and then his lips parted a little and his tongue … licked her lower lip tentatively. It was actually quite a good kiss. Daphne kissed back a little, and then one of his hands slid across her cheek so gently she nearly shivered, and he was holding her head softly, and Why not, thought Daphne and she opened her mouth, and Potter licked at her mouth softly, tentatively, and snogged her. He tasted of cognac, and…. He smelt good. And was so very there.

And he made no move to grab her in an indecent way, Daphne closed her eyes and felt… this man –if you ignored that it was Potter – was snogging her so gently. It felt almost tickly it was so gentle. And some time later, he stopped, let go of her and stepped back.

Potter licked his surprisingly pleasant lips. "Cognac flavoured" he said. His big lower lip was… it felt good.

"Well, you're cognac flavoured too" said Daphne, licking her lips.

"Well, we've definitely snogged now" said Potter.

"Which does not address the issue of that detection spell" sighed Daphne.

"Well, I don't think I'm going to feel right trying to… well, you know" said Potter.

"I find the idea fairly difficult" said Daphne. "We might as well be stuck at a party, playing spin the bottle and then have had fornicate come up as the forfeit."

"I wish I'd got to play spin the bottle" admitted Potter.

Daphne snorted "You were busy with..."

"Assorted terrible adventures, as you know" said Potter.

"And I've been to a party with spin the bottle, only it had assorted fifth year persons, and there was no way I wanted to kiss any of them in a cupboard" said Daphne.

"You had pretty poor choices in your year of Slytherin" said Potter.

"And you were any better, a moody ragamuffin with two goons" said Daphne, in a good-humoured way.

"Sadly, that was my life" said Potter, and… he really meant that, Daphne realised.

"Apart from her" said Daphne.

"Sixth year, and only half of it, and only snogging" said Potter. Hah! I've snogged him and it's not that great.

"You keep claiming to be so pure" said Daphne. Like hell he's only snogged.

"Clueless" said Potter "Clueless, and totally rubbish at snogging."

"Well you kissed pretty well before" said Daphne "Considering."

"If I was to … snog you again, what would get me slapped?" asked Potter. "Purely for information."

"Touching my private places." said Daphne "Not going to happen." Ever, in a perfect world.

"Bum?" asked Potter. Boys are all perverts.

"No" said Daphne. "I'm not having you paw me; I've hexed boys for that before."

Potter nodded "So, some cognac, and a snog?"

Daphne took a sip and wet her lips with her tongue.

Potter wet his lips with cognac also, and stood, as if trying to dance with her, then leaned into a kiss. Daphne slid her hands up his arms to his shoulders.

Potter stepped closer to her, he was very close now. And he leaned over and kissed her, and slowly, more firmly licked her lips. That felt a lot more like… a proper kiss. And oddly like they were dancing but not moving.

Daphne slid her hands around onto his shoulder-blades, while Potter's tongue started to lick hers in away that tickled. His lips didn't tickle… they felt… it felt pretty good. And he was warm and smelt nice, and his shoulder were broad and strong.

Then Potter slid one hand down to the small of her back, and the other slowly up her neck, her hair nearly standing on end in the process, and he stopped with his hand in the hair of the back of her head. Daphne shivered involuntarily as they continued to snog. His strong fingers were holding her gently.

Potter moved his hands to put one on either shoulder-blade, and Daphne wondered if he would press them together, begin grinding his body against hers…

Daphne slid a hand down onto his arm and explore his wiry tricep. It was stiff, like he was tense.

Then his hand on the small of her back slid up her side and ticked her ribs in passing. "No tickling" Daphne murmured, feeling her upper arms turning to goose-flesh.

Potter stopped kissing her mouth, and nuzzled her neck. Oh god that felt good. She sighed.

Potter froze. Daphne clutched his shoulders. "Arse" she said. "I'm only human."

Potter tentatively nuzzled her neck. Daphne relaxed and slid her arms down his triceps…. Feeling the wiry strength in Potter's body. He kept nuzzling her neck gently, his breath warm, his tiny kisses... rather good. Actually, this was quite pleasant. Potter flexed his muscles and Daphne felt Potter in her arms, suddenly as strong, masculine… he was like a big meaty… Daphne bit gently into Potter's neck, and cupped one of his buttocks – were they as hard as … oh god they really were. Daphne sighed, every glanced bulge was every bit as yummy as it looked. Potter was nuzzling at her neck, sending tingles up and down her spine, and his nose got lower and lower on her neck. Daphne wondered if he was going to bite her gently, firmly teasing her tendons. Instead, he breathed out onto her pulse point and Daphne couldn't' help shivering. "Down boy" she said. It was okay, but I'm not letting him turn my head with his sexy tricks. Not today, anyway.

Potter, to spoil the mood, licked her neck and left it cold and wet. Daphne shivered "Ick" she said. Then Potter bit gently into her neck and Daphne tensed up – she'd never been bitten before "Don't leave a mark" said Daphne – and that felt oddly good.

"You already bit me" muttered Harry, into her neck. Then he started running his strong calloused fingers through her hair, and it was… it was very good. Daphne half closed her eyes and enjoyed … being snogged.
Potter stopped nuzzling her tendon and after a pause where Daphne could feel him so close to her, paused, just... holding her, he kissed her again, holding her hair, and she couldn't help letting out a little moan, then, abandoned his right tricep.. .and got a hand on his chest… and that felt hard and muscular and... then was holding her so tenderly and the kiss was… oh. Daphne kept a grip on his hard bun, and on his chest, and let Pot-Harry – that father of lies snog her, plunder her mouth. And felt… very warm, and if Pot-Harry suggested she take off her clothes…. Well… it was too cold in the office.

After several glorious minutes, Harry stopped snogging her and drew back his delicious, kissable lips. His slightly scratchy upper lip. Uhhh. Daphne opened her eyes, feeling the delicious warmth that had filled her fading. Harry's face was flushed, and he was panting. And the feeling of him in her arms was like a well-warmed up horse. But that was a handsome man that snogged.

"You're stopping?" asked Daphne "That was snogging." I was bloody enjoying that, prick.

"I uh… am feeling tense, and need to go" said Potter, letting Daphne go. Daphne felt ready to die from sexual frustration.

"Well, If it helps I'll go get into a silky night gown and then masturbate" said Daphne, teasingly. Pot-Harry was so flushed he didn't even blush. And did I really just say that?

"Yeah, you do that" said Potter, with a nod. "I'm going to go and wank and try to get some sleep. Hopefully you didn't draw blood." Bloody hypocrite... he'd bitten her tendon… well… Daphne's thighs quivered thinking about it.

"It's just a little bite" said Daphne.

"It was a bit rough, is what it was," said Potter. Which was an outrageous thing to say.

"I thought rough was a thing" said Daphne. He was a bloody hero, a quidditch player.

"Maybe if we weren't… you know… not super comfortable." said Potter.

"Oh you were pretty comfy" said Daphne confidently. He'd bitten her tendon and snogged her and … bloody well had ruined the Weasley girl. There was NO way he had moves this good and hadn't… done that.

"And you've left bruises on my bum" said Potter. "It's not okay; you said no bum." Daphne resisted the urge to smirk. His were really like a pair of coconuts.

"No I said, hands off my bum" said Daphne. "And no licking, it got cold." The lick had been cold and therefore gross.

"We'd need a warmer room then" said Potter, and had he always had such a husky voice? And his eyes really were a very unusual colour.

"So one with a fire you can get to" said Daphne.

"You're warm when you sit behind the desk?" asked Potter.

"Of course. But I'm not snogging behind the desk. There's hardly any room and I've got a filing system for parchments on my desk. It could end in disaster." She imagined Potter… um… snogging her over the desk… and… that didn't sound too bad really. But her paperwork would be ruined, and that wasn't worth it.

Potter let her go, which was annoyingly cold, then he bowed slightly and kissed Daphne's hand softly and left to go to bed. As Daphne stood in her bathroom and washed her face off, she eyed the bite-mark on her neck. The one Potter, the liar had made. He so had shagged Weasley, she could tell by the way he snogged. But he wasn't touching her now. Probably wasn't. Daphne put on a perfectly ordinary nightgown and went to bed. And if the kisses she imagined as the stable-boy loved the princess were Potters, the arse was Potters, well she had nothing else to go on. Twice because she felt very tense.

The next morning Daphne woke up and the thought of the Weasley girl was there like a bad smell.

"Kreacher!" she called out. A soft pop heralded his appearance.

"Mistress" croaked Kreacher, bowing low.

"Follow your master, but do not be seen. I wish to know if he is meeting with the Weasley girl." said Daphne.

Kreacher bowed deeply, and, his nose touching the floor "Mistress, I must cook and clean and wash."

"After breakfast, follow him. Return to cook lunch" conceded Daphne.

"As mistress orders" croaked Kreacher.

At breakfast, Potter bent low and kissed her hand. Again, his kiss was soft and gentle… not a bit like his kisses last night at all. Daphne suppressed a shiver. Over the post, Potter looked over at her with a faint frown. Oh god I've made the shaved monkey have to think, thought Daphne.

"Um… when's the next um… practice session?" asked Potter.

'If he thought one good snogging and a nice kiss on the hand would have her lying on the table saying 'Take me!' he had another thing coming!' thought Daphne indignantly.

"In a few days" said Daphne firmly "In the meantime, the Fotheringhams roof is leaking. Chesney house, Uttoxeter."

"I'll look it up in the apparation atlas" said Potter. As if you could do it any other way.

-==0==-

For the third practice session, Potter suggested the drawing room. The fireplace had the room nice and warm, and Potter bent very low and kissed her hand. Daphne resisted the urge to smirk at his intentionally silly mugging.

"The Cognac's in the office" said Daphne. Cognac is our practice session drink, she thought.

Potter opened the sideboard and eyed the drinks selection "Firewhiskey? Why is there so much in here?"

"We got lots as wedding presents" said Daphne.

"Hey, there's Cognac here too" offered Potter. And he found coupes in the glass-fronted cabinet and put a sloppy measure in both. "The big glasses?" he asked. "Were they wedding presents too?"

"Plates, glassware, tablecloths, tea-towels, alcohol." said Daphne "Not creative presents."

"Well at least none of it's cursed" said Potter, handing her a coupe of Cognac.

Daphne took the coupe and had a sip. It was decent Cognac. Daphne corrected Potter's misapprehension. "You say that, but we got piles of serving plates in the shape of vegetables, or with vegetables moulded into the bases. Not cursed, but the nearest thing. Really tacky."

"What?" asked Potter, frowning.

"Imagine a serving disk for asparagus, with asparagus depicted on the plate." said Daphne.

"Oh." said Potter, sipping. "Lots of that?"

"And leeks, and practically every other bloody vegetable." said Daphne.

"Who sent those?"

"Elderly relations with no taste, and your friend George Weasley sent a selection of five plates of that kind." said Daphne.

"Oh. That would have been on purpose. They were probably secondhand" said Harry. "It was … probably a joke."

"Does that mean I can use them for curse practice?" asked Daphne.

Potter snorted, and lifted his glass to salute Daphne. And he smiled. "If you want" he said. "Remind me when George marries. We'll have to scour the secondhand stores, and get him a dozen plates like that."

"Do you hate him particularly?" asked Daphne curiously.

"It's just with the twins… everything's … was … a chance for a joke. They gave me a Hogwarts toilet-seat once when I was in the infirmary, As a gift." said Potter, and took a heavy gulp. "Sorry. That stuff's a downer."

Daphne took a sip of Cognac and eyed the odd, pensive expression on Potter's face.

Once she felt fairly squiffy, Daphne stepped closer to Potter, and he put the coupe down, and took hers, and put that down too, and reached over and held her hand, slowly, like an old-fashioned dance pulling her closer. Daphne licked her lips, and Potter bent down and gently kissed her lips. His lips were warm, and he smelt of Cognac, and that strange cologne of his. It smelt like broom polish, but broom polish doesn't have a hint of cloves… and something else. And then his left hand held her upper arm softly, and his right hand rested on her hip softly. It was like a bastardised dance posture… and Potter leaned in and kissed her softly again. Daphne closed her eyes, and slid a hand onto his hip, and grabbed his tight bun again. He tensed up and Daphne couldn't keep the smile off her face.

By the time Daphne decided she'd had enough of being snogged by Potter, he had utterly messed up her hair, bitten both the left and right tendons at the base of her neck, and his left hand had pressed her bum forcing her into a tight clinch with a clearly aroused Potter. Daphne went to bed to… relieve the tension that had built up. Afterwards, Daphne wondered. 'Would I shag Potter?'

And the answer wasn't a simple no. And it certainly wasn't yes. After nearly an hour of squiffy snogging in the drawing room, one simply had urges. But the idea of… submitting to his attentions made a erm, hump in the continuum from snogging Potter… which was fairly enjoyable… to sex… which was a duty, and one that Daphne had to engage in… at least once to stop nosy persons with chastity detection charms, and obviously, at… at the latest possible moment, to give issue to the next Greengrass heir. The … contractual requirement took any possible enjoyment out of the idea.

After fourth snog-familiarisation session in the Drawing room, Daphne went to her bedroom and dressed for bed, then went to the bathroom and washed her face clean. She eyed the erm. Rather flushed Daphne with her hair messed up, with swollen lips. She stood up straighter, and considered the obvious course of action.

Go see Potter. Get this over and done with. Daphne nodded to her reflection, and left the bathroom, and climbed the stairs, lighting her way with her wand. Wondering if her nerve would fail before she knocked on his door.

And somehow Daphne found herself knocking on his bedroom door.

"Come in" Potter called and Daphne found opening the door and going in less frightening than it had been. Potter would likely turn her down anyway, again.

Daphne eyed Potter, who was in grey pyjamas, in bed "Husband" she said.

"I was just going to sleep" said Potter "Is it a broken tap?"

"We should lie together" said Daphne. "Just once, for the reasons."

"Oh" said Potter, suddenly looking… why was HE nervous?

"Well, um… " said Potter. He got that shaved-monkey trying to think look, and picked up his wand. Daphne wondered what he was about to do. A massive gout of flames from his wand into the fireplace, causing the fire to got from smouldering, into a warm orange blaze.

Daphne waited for Potter to say something. Anything. Not that she was going to go along with anything deviant.

"Come to bed then" said Potter, and he swallowed. Oh. He was nervous. That… that was okay, really, thought Daphne This might just be snogging, in bed.

She lifted the covers and got in on the opposite side of the bed to Potter, or tried to, but his bed was like an ice-cube. "It's freezing!" she said, getting out.

Potter scratched the back of his head and pulled the covers down, and cast warming charms on his bed., and the covers. Daphne got back in, and pulled the covers up, and put her wand on the other bedside table "I've done the charm, so don't worry about that" she said. Potter put his wand down and started to take his glasses off.

"Don't you need to see what you're doing" asked Daphne "Or are you confident you can lie with me without seeing."

"Doing...oh, you want to." said Potter. Want to? Hardly.

"We've been practising, I can do this. If you'd proceed, we can get this...task done" said Daphne. "Please don't be rough with me." Daphne considered saying that she was a virgin, so to take things slow, but… Potter knew. Daphne lay back and tried to calm herself. This would probably be over fairly quickly anyway.

Potter leaned over and kissed Daphne in the cheek. And that was possibly the least sexy kiss in the history of kisses in bed by spouses, thought Daphne.

Potter slid across the bed, lying right next to her and kissed Daphne's lips gently. Daphne lay there and waited.

Potter lifted himself up a bit on one arm "Hey, you snog better than this" said Potter "Don't just lie there."

Fine, thought Daphne, and kissed him back, and she stroked the upper arm he was propping himself up with. Which was so taunt from holding up Potter that… well, she squeezed it, and it was so… wiry and strong.

He kissed her again, and probing with his tongue, and Daphne tasted Cognac, he started to snog her… which was… okay, she supposed. Potter stopped for a breath and, he stared at her face rather intently. He decided something, and sat up in the bed and removed his pyjama jacket.

Topless, Potter had a largely hairless chest, with line of black hairs below his belly button headed to his trousers. His arms... he had scars. Daphne wondered if he had a scar from the time he fought a dragon. Potter er… snuggled closer and pulled the covers over himself… and kissed her lips softly. Daphne kissed him back, perfunctorily, but then he licked her lips and she grudgingly opened her mouth… and Potter started gently, delicately, almost tenderly snogging her. Daphne slipped one hand up and onto his shoulder, around onto his back. She could feel a scar there, and she was moved to stroke his back, partly out of pity for all his injuries… but his back was muscular and his shoulders quite broad, really, and… his skin felt nice.

Potter stroked Daphne's left arm, running his fingers down her arm in a way, clearly calculated to tickle erotically. He bloody well had shagged Ginny Weasley. Sod this.

Daphne said "You can proceed to the main event."

"Well, take off your nightie" said Pot-Harry and Daphne wriggled out of her nightie and dropped it onto the floor, only to wish she'd jammed it under Potter's far too hard pillows immediately.

Potter proceeded to ogle her chest, then a rough, calloused hand stroked her bust… and he kissed … quite well, started kissing her neck. Daphne suppressed an instinctive reaction to scream. And he was rubbing her nipples. It really is quite different when someone else does it. Then he proceeded to kissing her breasts… then teasing her nipples. Daphne's tightened her grip on Harry's right arm. And … he suckled her nipples, alternating… and that should be illegal. The feelings shot down her body straight to her core. She may have gasped. It was quite shocking.

Daphne ran her hand over Potter's chest… it was more stringy than she'd imagined, but… naked. And his nipples hardened to her touch. Potter stroked her side and … that didn't feel ticklish at all.

And his hand slid inexorably down her side as he kissed her neck and teased at her tendons, ending up with his hand cupping her hip, his rough fingers partly on her buttock. Potter was manhandling her. And, Daphne felt that… well … Suddenly Harry moved his head and started kissing her lips delicately, and she had the strangest feeling that her lips had been missing out – and his kisses and licking ever so gently, and Daphne felt some small hope that maybe, sex with Harry might not be terrible. She kissed back a bit. And gave in to the temptation to slip a hand up his shoulder, up his neck, into his eternally messy hair and held him a bit. While kissing.

And Harry mirrored her action; putting hand up her neck, onto the back of her head, giving Potter leverage to snog firmly, and wow, that was good snogging. Daphne explored down his body, which was actually all as hard and muscular and … she felt the flannel waistband.

He was wearing flannel pyjama pants. "Are you leaving those on" Daphne asked.

Harry stopped snogging "Yeah, should get those off, I suppose."

Daphne let him go, so he could… remove them.

Harry rolled over onto his back and shimmied his pyjamas off, and slowly slid back across the bed to... lying against her. He felt a lot warmer totally naked. The warmth of his legs on hers was… quite pleasant. But this wasn't about doing enjoyable things, it was about having sex, so the chastity detection charm would fail in future.

Daphne lifted the cover and looked down to see… naked man. "Oh, it's time" she said, she spread her legs. He would doubtless mount her soon.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry.

"Spreading my legs. Just this once" said Daphne.

"No, we were snogging, and you'd got to my pants" said Harry, leaning over and kissing her instead. Oh, he was going to sneakily mount her.

Harry got back into the swing of snogging and Daphne slid a hand down his back; and then grabbed his bum, which was just as hard naked. And warm.

Harry evidently took that as some sort of permission, so he grabbed Daphne's hip. But he let go after palpating her, and went back to stroking her nipples. Daphne relaxed and well, enjoyed Harry' attentions, till he groped her crotch. Daphne stiffened and closed her thighs. Ugh.

Potter resorted to salacious kisses to her neck, and Daphne relented, and Potter's fingers tentatively fingered her pubic hair. He snorted in amusement.

"What's so funny" said Daphne.

"Like the monster book of monsters, you have to stroke the spine." said Potter coarsely.

Fine, thought Daphne. "If you want to now, I can just spread my legs" she said.

"I'd rather you wanted to" said Harry, stroking her hip, doubtless trying to tickle her.

"Oh get on with it" said Daphne.

Harry suckled her tenderly for a while and Daphne felt herself becoming… warm. Then he stroked her hip, suckled her nipples and … why they had to do the other bit, this was… quite satisfactory… well with a little more stimulation. Daphne took Potter's hand and put it where it should be to provide that stimulation.

Potter stopped everything and lifted the bed-covers to ogle her crotch. And moved down to bed to get an eyeful.

Daphne felt indignant at this… gross ogling said "You're looking at my crotch."

"I have no idea" said Harry, the cover sliding down his body like the caress of a falling silk dressing gown, baring his hips. And an er, willy nestling in a bed of black hairs. The willy was, well much bigger than a finger, and the end was dripping. Had he gone off already?

Daphne's had to ask "Is that normal?"

Harry looked down and "Yeah, what?"

"It's wet" she said.

"I'm excited, it gets wet" said Harry. Oh, he was excited. Great.

Daphne spread her legs "Take me husband" she said. And that was the end of her virginity, thought Daphne, not in a passionate embrace, but… to fend off nosey old great-aunts.

Harry slid up the bed over Daphne, and she pulled her knees up and rolled her hips back, and reached down and guided Harry's willy, he seemed to have no idea where it went. Weasley must have done all the thinking. And… with no fanfare, but at least he had erm, warmed her up beforehand. It felt odd. Nothing like a finger. So… soft. And then Potter started pumping in and out completely rather disappointingly not filling Daphne with a feeling of unbridled joy.

"This is all right" said Daphne, after some… pumping, just in case he was worried. The maidens charm was a thing, after all.

"Sorry" said Harry. Oh, he assumed that just because he was forcing a willy in., she'd be going all to pieces from pain or something. Frankly, it wasn't that painful. It was even starting to be sort of pleasurable.

After a few minutes, Harry sped up a bit.

"Don't speed up" said Daphne. And he didn't listen, and a few minutes later stopped still, and got an even stupider than usual look on his face. And Daphne felt something pulsating, and it wasn't her. He stared at her for a moment, and looked flushed, and sweaty, and his eyes were suddenly very dark. And he rolled off and lay still. Oh that was it then.

Daphne pulled up the covers.

"Night" she said. Potter fell asleep.

Daphne lay in the bed for a moment, then got out and padded naked to his bathroom and washed quickly to get the worst of his emissions off her. Finishing drying, Daphne picked up the cologne tester and sniffed it. Broomstick polish. Cloves. Cardamon. And some other things. She glared at the vial. How could a man who just rolled off and went to sleep, choose such an interesting cologne?

Daphne opened the bathroom door and headed out onto the landing. She was just about to go down the stairs when she saw Potter lying in bed, asleep, the firelight picking out his cheekbones, his messy bed hair – he'd shagged her, it actually was bed hair. And besides, her nightgown was on the floor. Daphne walked in, and the fire was warm at her back. Daphne picked up her nightgown, and … it was probably bad manners to leave after he fell asleep. He'd done what he had been asked to do, after all. And… his legs were so warm. Shame about his knobbly knees.

Daphne got back into the er, conjugal bed and slid over a bit. Potter moved softly in his sleep. He was quite beautiful in the firelight like this. What? Where had that come from? He was a rotten shag. But… he smelt good and was nice and warm. Daphne pushed at the hard pillow for a bit, and gave it up as a lost cause and went to sleep.

She woke up, and the light peeking through the gap between the curtains on Harry's side of the bed told her it was morning. And he was gone. She slid a hand over to feel the bed. Still warm. Not gone long then.

She wondered why she had woken up. Then a juddering sound in the walls explained everything. The plumbing. Speaking of which, she could use the loo.

She pulled on her nightgown, and went to the bathroom, where Potter had run a bath, and warmed the room up. Daphne sat on the toilet-seat nice and warm. "Thank you" she said to Harry, who left the bathroom and closed the door. Oh, he had some manners. Daphne summoned the bubble-bath from the windowsill and squirted some into the bath. A quick spell had a nice layer of bubbles on it.

Daphne flushed the loo, and got out of her nightgown, and slid into the delicious bubble-bath. Harry came in and must have caught a glimpse of her nakedness, as he stood looking a bit stunned. "Aaah" she said "Thank you for running the bath."

And Harry left the bathroom, closing the door.

Daphne was left to enjoy a bath in peace. After washing thoroughly, she dried off and apparated to her room to get dressed. She eyed her face in the dressing-mirror. She didn't look different for … what had transpired. And really, it had been a bit rubbish.

Daphne went to breakfast. He was nowhere to be seen, so she took most of the bacon.

It wasn't till she went to her bathroom after breakfast, that she found an unexpected husband, asleep in her bathtub, the bath salts bottle conspicuously unstopped.

She poked him to wake him up.

"Get out of my bathroom" said Daphne, and she left, not wishing to face wet naked man today.

She went to the office, and wrote a new list of urgent repairs for Harry to do. She left it at his desk in the library, and apparated to the kitchen, so she could floo to Greengrass estate, and significantly, Buttercup.

He was late for lunch. Kreacher had already brought the soup.

"You're late" she said.

Harry kissed her hand then sat down and started to eat.

"Thank you for running me a bath" said Daphne.

"I wanted a bath, I was really stiff" explained Harry. Had he just … he had!

"The Millings house in bath the leaky roof; I had to buy some metal for the ridge, finding a shop took time" said Harry. "But it's done."

"One morning is all it took?" asked Daphne.

"Practice" said Harry. "I'm glad this place's roof is charmed impervious"

Harry ate silently then he asked "About last night?"

"We did what we had to" said Daphne. It was rubbish.

"Yeah" said Harry. "Sorry I really didn't know what I was doing." Daphne inspected his expression. He seemed… genuinely embarrassed. And he hadn't known what he was doing.

Oh Merlin, she'd deflowered Harry Potter!

"Well, try to know before we have to do it again" said Daphne "I understand there are books."

"Again?" asked Harry, his face reddening further.

"We will need children, at some point for the family" said Daphne. "I need to produce a Greengrass heir as well."

Harry thought then spoke "So two then."

"I suppose" said Daphne, what he needed one for. Teddy was heir Black. He… he might want a Potter, she supposed.

She busied herself with letters to stretch out the soup. And… to be able to ignore his blushing face.

Harry ate quietly, looking up now and then to see that Daphne was still eating, then reading letters, and finding one from Astoria, announcing she was coming to visit. Which was so typically Astoria.

"This afternoon my sister's coming over" said Daphne.

"I'll look at the Milburn's carpet problems" said Harry "I'll see if I can reparo it without them noticing."

"You can't" said Daphne "They've had years of repairs, it's too thin now."

"Measuring tape and new carpet then" said Harry.

"They're rug-style like here, can you get something from the muggles cheaply?" asked Daphne.

"I'll go see a rug store. There's one having a sale" said Harry. Oh god, was he really a simpleton.

"All rug stores are having a sale, always" said Daphne.

"Oh" said Harry "Well, I'll see what they have that will fit."

"Get it delivered here, there's no way you can get a rug there without the muggles seeing" said Daphne.

"So I'll have to hang around" said Harry.

"Get some rest, you're working too hard" said Daphne.

Harry sighed and looked constipated.

"I don't know what you're so mopey about, you got to lie with me yesterday" said Daphne.

"And it was very um… sexy" said Harry.

"Please don't demand sex" said Daphne.

"I wouldn't" replied Harry nervously.

"Good" snapped Daphne.

That afternoon, Harry left in muggle clothes under a robe.

And Astoria turned up at about half-past one, knocking on the office doorpost.

"Lo" said Tori. "Where's the man-who-won?"

"Out measuring carpets." said Daphne, putting a line into the notes she was writing – the calculator had done the weeks accounts already.

"He going to be back for afternoon tea?" asked Tori.

"I don't expect so" said Daphne, putting her quill in its holder. She stood up "What are we going to do this afternoon?"

"Hmm" said Tori "Mummy wanted me to visit."

"It would be nice to catch up" admitted Daphne.

"Where's Edward?"

"With Mrs Weasley." said Daphne "merlin knows Harry loves him, but toddlers are nerve-wracking. If you leave him alone for a minute, he's off to the stairs."

"And you?"

"He's cute." lied Daphne. Teddy was in the habit of mimicking whoever he was with, and sometimes … Daphne pretended blue-eyed, blonde Teddy was her Alexander. Not that she'd have a child called Alexander. Not under these circumstances. Black family names, of course.

Daphne went to her room, followed by Tori, and changed behind her screen into the chic pinstripe dress and her little hat.

"Why do you wear muggle clothes?" asked Tori as Daphne pulled on her robe.

"We agreed. Muggle clothes not at mealtimes, unless we're doing something in public." said Daphne.

"He never goes anywhere public with you" observed Tori.

"To avoid the press, darling" said Daphne. Who felt she had become something of a recluse too.

Once dressed, Daphne stepped out from behind her screen, to see Tori staring at her framed photograph by Dennis Creevy. The one of the mirror and two Daphnes.

"That's seriously creepy" said Tori.

"It's art. Dennis Creevy's an artist. Harry making him take wedding photos was… it was cruel." said Daphne.

"You and the little muggle-born then" asked Tori cheekily.

"My husband's the tall one with the green eyes, Tori. I won't commit adultery." said Daphne. Masturbate, because he's rubbish… definitely.

"Sure?" said Tori.

"Dennis Creevy's a scary little Gryffindor, Tori. Not my type at all" said Daphne "Kitchen!"

And she apparated down to the kitchen. Tori appeared a moment later. "You apparate everywhere in this house?" she asked.

"Don't try apparating across the boundaries. It's charmed like a bank-vault." said Daphne, throwing floo-powder into the fire and heading home to mummys.

-==0==-

Mummy was in the conservatory, and she had a guest. great-aunt Serafina.

"Tori!, and Daphne.. Oh… Aunt Serafina, my girls" said Mummy, beaming at them.

Daphne sat on one of the comfy high-backed rattan chairs, and Tori took her favourite; the wicker pod-chair that hung from a rafter.

So they had afternoon tea with mummy.

Which went swimmingly till great-aunt Serafina cast a chastity detection charm on Daphne, and it clearly failed.

"Well, they do" said great Aunt Serafina "They might be shy, but they're getting on just fine. Mother may have had an arranged marriage, but they certainly loved one another. After all, there were three of us."

Tori's eyes, as usual with far too much eyeliner, were large as saucers. "You're… with Harry Potter"

Daphne could only say "Harry Potter-Black."

"Well dahlink, that's a weight off my mind" said mummy "There I was worrying you were still all alone in bed." And that was irritating, because sleeping with Harry was actually quite cosy. It was just that the sex was worse than nothing.

Daphne decided not to stay at mummy's for dinner. To avoid mummy getting… continental once great-aunt Serafina had left. Astoria followed her home to Grimmauld place.

"What are you doing?" asked Daphne.

"Avoiding mummy" said Tori "I don't want to hear her going on about you and… Potter."

"So you're coming for dinner?"

Tori nodded "Mummy would tell me to get a new husband. I'm in mourning."

-==0==-

Potter was early to dinner, in the same robes he always wore to dinner. He looked a bit blueish on his chin. He hadn't shaved since breakfast.

Tori was wearing black, and looking dramatic. Why she had to be a drama-queen like mummy Daphne did not know.

Daphne and Astoria's place settings being only at arm length away.

Tori kept elbowing Daphne, and smirking. She was going to be a brat, Daphne just knew it.

Daphne felt quite annoyed. Harry reached out and took her hand, and kissed it, looking at her over her hand, and he had no right to look at her like that. Bloody showoff, those cheekbones and the bluish haze on his chin made him look all… dark old family. He was actually just a sarcastic git.

"We had afternoon tea with mother" said Tori smugly "And great aunt was there."

"Shut up" muttered Daphne.

"And great aunt hit Daphne with a chastity detection charm, and it failed." said Astoria. "Nice work Harry."

Daphne pointed her index finger right at Harry "Not a word."

Harry put his hands up placatingly "Of course not dear." And he'd called her dear again, he was so not getting treacle tart for a month.

Astoria huffed "I'm a widow, I'm supposed to have a prurient interest in my family's love-lives."

"Technically" said Daphne "It had better be technically."

Astoria smirked "I'm a widow, I'm allowed."

"Is she really?" asked Potter.

"Not if anyone looks at her marriage history" said Daphne.

"Look, dear, you were a very good girl at Hogwarts, but people used broom closets" said Potter.

"You didn't" said Daphne bitterly. Rotten shag arsehole.

"I thought we agreed not to discuss this with family ever" said Potter.

Daphne nodded.

"But Harry, you and Daphne …" said Astoria "How often are you two doing it?"

"We're not talking about it" said Potter. Daphne glared at Harry just in case he had any doubts.. Next to her, Tori inhaled sharply.

"Oh Merlin" Tori said. "Harry, do you have any athletic single friends?"

Potter snorted and chuckled.

Daphne gave Potter another glare for form's sake. But the thought of Tori and Dennis was… amusing. He would hardly reach her bust-line. Daphne had to bite her tongue at the thought of Dennis with his face in Tori's bust. Not going to snigger.

Potter started eating.

Daphne saw her opportunity and seized it, saying "Great Aunt then wanted to know when the children were coming."

Potter choked. Sweet sweet success.

Daphne felt that served him right and gave him a single-eyebrow raise as she said "I explained about our neglected business interests."

"So now great aunt thinks you're an incompetent business manager" said Tori, to Potter.

"I am" said Potter "Daphne is, and always has been the business brains of the family."

"You did say that at your wedding" said Tori, digging into her meal.

It was when Harry had just taken a mouthful of desert that Astoria asked "So, if Draco as head of Malfoy and Black was going to have two wives, why isn't there a Mrs Potter. That Weasley girl, for example."

Potter choked on the mouthful he was eating and coughed dessert onto the table in an undignified way.

"Astoria, please don't try to choke my husband to death" said Daphne, looking daggers at Potter. One word from you and I will poison you in your sleep, she thought.

"I feel that Daphne would not appreciate a second wife, and I just can't. I was brought up in the muggle world; you can only have one wife there, and that's how I'm going to live my life." said Potter.

"And I'd poison you if you tried?" asked Daphne, tilting her head.

"Oh I can't please one woman, I couldn't please two" said Potter. Daphne felt horribly embarrassed. Oh god, he was going to admit to things… they'd done. She could feel her face heating up. Thankfully she was wearing foundation.

"Husbands don't have both wives in bed at the same time" said Tori, looking a bit pink.

"Malfoy would have tried" said Potter, in a pathetic attempt at a drawl.

Much later, Potter walked past the office and asked Daphne "Congac?"

"Go away Potter" said Daphne.

Potter walked in took Daphne's unresisting hand and kissed her knuckles "Goodnight dear" he said, and left.

Daphne waited in her bed for hours before realising Potter did not actually intend to visit tonight, and going to sleep. Prat.

Daphne got to breakfast, to find Tori eating and Potter reading the Prophet, in a parody of a family unit.

"Is it true Harry won't sleep in the same bed as you because you snore?" asked Tori.

"I don't snore" said Daphne defensively.

Potter had stood up and come over, took her hand and kissed it, bending low over her hand then standing and adding "And that's why I'm in my own bed."

"I like having a whole bed to myself" countered Daphne, taking some tea.

As Astoria went for some kippers, Daphne made eye contact with Potter and nodded subtly. Potter winked. He thought he was such a bally comedian.

Potter picked up Daphne's hand and kissed her knuckles again on the way out of the dining room.

Astoria exclaimed "Oh... you're getting lucky tonight sis."

Oh god I hope not, thought Daphne. It's rubbish.