The Pantomime Fountain

by TheEndless7

During Harry Potter's sixth year the school decides to revive the annual Holiday Festival. Follow Harry as he joins in on the festivities as an excuse to get away from Professor Slughorn. But will it all go awry when he winds up far more involved than he'd anticipated. A short story for the holiday season.

8. Never Did Run Smooth

Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.

Never Did Run Smooth

Harry Potter weaved rather expertly through the crowd at the stadium. He drew a few stares from other fans as his tower of food and drinks didn't sway in the least as he moved. No one bothered to approach and ask about his supreme gift for balance, though.

He artfully made his way into the seating bowl and down the stairs toward his seats. One usher stopped him, and seemed shocked when Harry held the tower of food with one hand, without a single wobble almost as if it was held together by magic, as he showed his ticket to the man. The usher did not, Harry noticed, make any attempt to help him, despite the VIP nature of his ticket.

He stepped into the front row, moving expertly through other friends and family as he made his way to the seats. He handed the first beer and sandwich to the short brown-haired man with a camera. He nodded as the man thanked him, adding that it was no problem. He stood at his empty seat and handed a bottle of water to his wife, while dropping the second one into the cup holder before him. He passed out the rest of the food before handing the final two beers to the woman sitting to his wife's left. She handed one to her husband and then took a sip from hers, glancing at the brunette to her right. She gave Harry's wife, with a knowing gaze.

His wife shrugged and sipped her water, not meeting the older woman's gaze. The Cameraman insisted on a photo of the four of them as the pre-match festivities continued behind them. It only took a few moments for that to be squared away.

All five of their group wore white jerseys with the same name on the back, and the same patch on the front. Harry had debated wearing the blue one instead, but it felt ever so slightly inappropriate given the magnitude of the situation.

He relaxed into his seat, reaching for his wife's hand as his eyes gazed out toward the pitch and the players on it. Both teams looked similar enough, white or yellow jerseys milling about in small groups, peering up at the main screen or peering around the stadium. A few were doing some last-minute warm-ups or checking their boots as the last vestiges of the Athenian sun faded from the sky.

Harry's eyes found one player in particular and followed her through her routine. She seemed to be done with it as she bounced on the balls of her feet near the sidelines. It was a nervous trait she shared with her mother and her sister and Harry recognized it readily enough.

She stopped abruptly when the official approached and told the teams to get ready for the start of the game. She turned, the eight clearly visible on her back as she jogged next to the woman wearing the ten, toward their positions for the kickoff.

Harry took a deep breath before sparing a quick glance toward his wife. Her gaze was completely focused on the pitch but she squeezed his hand as he looked at her. He turned his gaze back to the pitch, feeling too nervous to talk and sensing his companions felt much the same way.

After moments the ball sailed into the air. Harry found himself leaning forward in his seat, his muscles tense with nerves, as the match began. He had a hard time remembering the last time he was more nervous. Which was odd, he thought, as in the end, it was only a game.

---

Upon reflection, the latter half of his sixth year ended up being his favorite time at Hogwarts. Which, given that he'd attended parties hosted by Professor Slughorn weekly, surprised him.

But it wasn't bad, really. And he knew the exact reason that it was tolerable.

Daphne's presence at his side made the events a lot less painful than he'd expected. Slughorn was too polite to snub his girlfriend, so she diverted some of his attention at any given moment. And she always managed to want to dance, or want refreshments, or something similar at the exact moment that Harry was starting to grow annoyed with Slughorn. Which always gave him an out that the Potions Master didn't argue with. Afterall, it was stupid to keep a pretty girl wanting.

At some point Harry had even let slip to the Professor that Fridays were the best day for the parties. Slughorn probably hadn't needed that much of a hint, but it had worked out relatively well, all things considered.

If Harry was honest, too, he did meet a fair amount of interesting people. Although he found Slughorn's obsession with celebrity to be a bit trying in general, a couple of them were fun to talk to. He found the ones that included Daphne in their conversations to be far more tolerable than the ones that didn't. Although he didn't like any of the high-ranking ministry officials who tried to tell him they'd always been on his side, no matter what anyone else said.

Saturdays were reserved for the occasional Hogsmeade trip and Conjurations and Catacombs. If he was honest, he found the game to be rather pointless and he would have stopped going without much of a fuss. But, Daphne enjoyed playing to the point that when they double dated one Hogsmeade trip with Neville and Hannah, Harry and Hannah had spent the day exchanging bemused looks as their dates talked incessantly about the campaign.

He wondered if he should be concerned that her choice of character was a Hag with a proclivity for fire and explosions and what could be best described as absolutely no moral compass. But she had fun, and that amused him a great deal. He was also pretty positive that if he were to quit, she'd keep going to the sessions.

Their St. Mungo's performance had gone over very well. They'd even received a glowing writeup in the Daily Prophet about it. It had been nice to see Katie and Leanne catch up after the show. His housemate looked awful, she looked to have lost a couple stones and her entire appearance was sunken and skeletal. But she was smiling and said she was recovering and Harry had no reason to doubt her, even if he thought he might break her while they hugged.

Dumbledore hadn't wanted him to commit to the performance. He'd argued it was too dangerous and that Harry shouldn't leave the castle. But Harry had countered with the fact that if someone wanted to take a shot at him in the hospital, with Aurors and Healers on duty, and Professor Dumbledore in attendance, they deserved it. The man had caved and let them perform.

He'd been equally annoyed the next week when the hospital wanted them to do it once more. This time they'd sold tickets and performed in a small theater off of Diagon Alley. All the proceeds went to the hospital and Harry's argument there had been simple. He wasn't going to deny the hospital a great deal of donations. Dumbledore had caved quicker on that one.

And hey, Slughorn had taken that opportunity to introduce him to Alana Moonbright after the show. The mid-twenties blonde claimed she has no Veela heritage, but Harry wasn't fully convinced of that. Either way he'd done his best not to drool and had listened to Daphne list all of her faults later that evening.

The routine continued for the rest of the year and Harry enjoyed almost every minute of it. The only bit he struggled with was his lessons with Dumbledore. Daphne knew he had them but she never pressed him on what they were. He wanted to tell her, but something seemed off about it. Daphne provided a sanctuary from everything else. And he didn't want to ruin that.

Once or twice he thought she was going to press him on it. But she'd chosen to purse her lips and give him a look before changing the subject. Like she knew he needed her to be there for him without prying. And he appreciated it.

And then he'd gone Horcrux hunting with Dumbledore. Even years later the full effect of that night would elude him. But he'd come back, Snape killed Dumbledore, and chaos reigned. In the moment, none of it had mattered. He'd chased down Death Eaters and gotten two of them with Hagrid's help. But the rest, including Snape, had escaped.

After it seemed like every adult on the face of the planet needed his version of events. He'd talked to Aurors, Professors, Healers, anyone they could find. It was, to his immense surprise, Slughorn who'd saved him.

Somehow the Potions Professor had managed to distract the crowd by first fawning over Harry, and then turning the attention of it all to him. Harry wasn't sure how long the distraction would last, but he found Daphne pulling him from the Hospital Wing almost as soon as it started.

He moved in a daze, following her up the stairs as his mind tried to sort out what the evening brought. He didn't notice as she brought him to the Room of Requirement, and didn't realize what she was doing when she'd paced back and forth until it opened.

She led him in and sat him on the queen-sized bed the room had created for them. She whispered to him that they would be able to be alone there. Away from it all. That anything else could wait until the morning. And then she'd hugged him.

He lost it at her touch.

Deep down he knew she must have found him pathetic as he broke down and cried. Every little detail of the evening spilled from him. It was all his fault. He hadn't been able to act fast enough to save Dumbledore, or stop the Death Eaters, or do anything to help.

She'd held him and whispered to him that it would be alright, and eventually he'd fallen asleep in her arms.

When he'd woken up in her arms, he'd decided he wanted to do that quite a lot more. They'd cuddled for most of the morning, not talking about the previous night. But she'd smiled warmly at him and everything felt right.

He thought of kissing her, but then his stomach betrayed him and they'd decided to head down to breakfast. Which, he thought, was one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Claire Greengrass met them after breakfast with the news that Daphne and Astoria were leaving school early. Daphne argued but Claire didn't let her. Their exams were done and they had no reason to stay until the end of term, and she wasn't going to let her kids in a school Death Eaters had infiltrated.

Astoria was standing behind her and her expression told them she'd already tried every argument they could think of. Harry hugged and kissed Daphne and promised to write. He wrote her four letters in his final week at Hogwarts.

He didn't get her responses until he'd gone home to Privet Drive. They were fairly basic in general. She talked of being worried about him, of hoping he was well, and of how she wished all of this would blow over and how she looked forward to seeing him at school next year.

She was convinced her mother would mellow out in the coming months and that they'd be able to enjoy their seventh year together. She'd kept her letters light and encouraging and his heart swelled when he read each and every word she'd penned. At least until she reported to him that Charity Burbage was killed by Death Eaters. After that, she didn't think there was any way her parents would let her return to Hogwarts.

But then his owl died while he fled from Privet Drive. And somehow, no matter what he said or what he did, there wasn't ever an owl available for him to use while at The Burrow.

He'd insisted on inviting her for the wedding, because he wanted to be with his girlfriend for the wedding, and for what might be his last chance to see her as he hadn't told her of his plans to skip his seventh year.

But they seemed pretty insistent that he never have access to an owl, or was allowed to leave the area around The Burrow. And somehow Ginny was always by his side. And frankly, what was the point of inviting his girlfriend since he'd be in disguise anyway and it would just ruin the disguise.

Which was another bit he hadn't agreed to but didn't seem worth arguing. In the end, he was glad they hadn't invited her given how the evening ended with a flight from Death Eaters.

At Grimmauld Place he'd managed to convince Kreacher to get a letter to Daphne. In it he tried to explain why he'd gone silent and wondered if someone was keeping her letters to him as he hadn't received any while he was at The Burrow. He hoped she was well, and that he'd see her soon.

Unfortunately, he'd added, it wouldn't be at school if she'd even be there. As there was something he had to do first to rid the world of Voldemort. And, while it was stupid that he was saying it for the first time in a letter, he loved her. And he hoped she'd say safe and that they'd be in each other's arms soon.

He sent it off with Kreacher on the morning of their Ministry heist and he would never see her reply.

---

He watched as Eight fell back from her midfield position and forced her way between two of the yellow jerseys and emerged with the ball. She passed it expertly to Four and spun around to proceed up the pitch.

She forced her way through another player as the ball slid from defender to defender. She pressed forward and cut into the path of the ball as the defenders relayed it forward.

They'd caught the opposition out as Eight and Ten sped forward. Eight dribbled around one defender and then passed down field to Ten. Harry's eyes shot to the official as Ten caught the ball between two defenders. The flag didn't go up and his eyes shot back to the field as Ten shot.

The ball sailed on goal. The goalkeeper dived but there was no way she was going to be able to stretch far enough to make the save. The ball looked perfect.

And then it hit the post and ricocheted to a yellow defender.

Ten slid across the ground, bashing her fists into the pitch in frustration before rising back to her feet and falling back on defense. Eight was twenty steps ahead of her, already working on disrupting the oncoming attack.

"Damn," Harry cursed.

"She's been everywhere," the Cameraman to his right said.

"They look outmatched," his wife sighed. "That was their only chance so far."

"Lot of time left to play," the man to their left said with a knowing air of superiority.

"They're a big underdog," the Cameraman added.

"It is pretty amazing they're even here," Harry added.

"Stop being negative," his wife said as the official blew the whistle to end the first half. Harry turned his eyes to the scoreboard to see what he already knew, a nil-nil tie at half time. He didn't have the heart to tell his wife that she was the one saying they'd looked over-matched.

The video board showed the white Eight, Four and Two as they jogged away from them. It panned around to show their faces as they entered the tunnel. Harry recognized the determination evident there. It was a look he'd seen on his own face before.

---

The hunt for the Horcruxes started horribly. They'd done little more than wander around, attempt to make awful food, and come up with no idea as to how to destroy the locket, or how to do anything productive.

Harry remembered thinking that if Ron complained about not bringing Kreacher along for food he'd have to hex him. Of course, he thought, he wanted Kreacher to see if there had been a reply from Daphne.

So far the only real thing they'd manage to do was eavesdrop on some Wizards on the run and sneak into some towns to try to find news. There wasn't any of any substance. He wondered if the Greengrass family would even make the news. Or if their daughter's brief association with him would put them in danger.

The last thought kept him awake more nights than he cared to admit.

Eventually, they'd fractured. Harry knew it was the locket talking, needling them into something with perfectly crafted insults, and not his best friend Ron. But when Ron accused him of having no idea what to do because he'd spent too much time with the Slytherin whore rather than paying attention to Dumbledore's lessons, he'd broken.

Hermione had to pull him off of Ron. The memory of his friend's bloody face would always be present in his mind. Even now, he could still feel the throbbing of his knuckles as he thought about the memories. He'd broken. And he'd broken Ron as a result.

He couldn't even blame his friend for walking out of the tent and leaving them. It was the best course of action and they'd both known it.

But then, Ron did something Harry still struggled to believe. He'd come back.

In his friend's shoes he wasn't sure that he'd have been able to bring himself to do that. It took more courage, and more resolve than Harry thought he had. But Ron, despite Harry turning on him, despite Harry beating him, had rescued him from an icy lake, retrieved their best weapon against the Horcruxes, a weapon that would save Harry in my ways than one, and destroyed the locket all in one evening.

Harry listened intently as Ron recounted what had happened in their absence. He went into details about who was missing and who was accounted for, who'd fought and where, and even showed them how to find the broadcast on the wireless that tried to give up to date news.

And then he frowned and looked at Harry and his next words broke his heart.

"It's where I found out about Daphne," he said. Harry remembered the excitement and the fear that flooded through him when his friend said her name.

"What about her?" he asked. Ron took a deep breath and shifted closer to Hermione, as if looking to her for protection. Harry knew what his friend wound say then. They'd killed her, and they'd done so to get to him.

"She's engaged to Theodore Nott," Ron said. Harry blinked. She was alive. That was fantastic news. He hadn't hurt her. Wait, what the hell had he just said?

"What?" he blinked.

"They made a big deal out of it. His dad replaced Umbridge on the committee trying to round up Muggle borns. She even gave a speech about how much she loved him and looked forward to their time together," Ron said.

"I…." Harry said.

"I'm sorry man," Ron added and he sounded it. He reached out to put his hand on Harry's shoulder as comfortingly as he could. "She said she only dated you to try to find information that could help You-Know-Who. And that she and Theodore had planned it for months."

"That can't be true," Harry said. But a darker thought filled his head. One that he couldn't escape, no matter what he thought of.

What if it was?

Neither of them had pushed their relationship that far once they'd started dating. She'd always tried to make him feel comfortable. Was that purely so she could needle information out of him at an opportune moment? Now, that he was out of the picture, she'd gone right to Theodore and, dammit, engaged? At Seventeen?

Ron and Hermione tried to console him, but he hadn't heard any of their words. By the next morning he'd come up with a plan on where he thought one of the last Horcruxes was. And instead he threw all his attention to ending the war.

The next few weeks rushed past. They heard a rumor of captives at Malfoy manor, and after a run-in with some snatchers they managed to get in and out of the manor with Bellatrix giving up some crucial information that confirmed a hunch.

Gringotts ended up being the correct assumption and they'd escaped with a dragon, the sword of Gryffindor, and one fewer Horcrux. And an idea of where the last one was.

It was stupid, he thought, he should have figured it out months ago. Lord Voldemort thought he knew more of Hogwarts than Dumbledore or anyone else. It only made sense he'd hide one of his horcruxes at Hogwarts. And where better than the Room of Requirement?

They'd Apparated into Hogsmeade. Hermione and Ron had fled as a group two dementors and two Death Eaters came to investigate the new alarm. But Harry didn't feel like fleeing. He was sick of running away. His Patronus smashed the dementors to near dust and his blasting curse took most of the upper body of the first Death Eater.

The second turned and ran. Harry fired a quick series of cutting hexes after him but he wasn't positive if any of them found their mark. Eventually they found their way into the castle. Snape fled from him as students seemed to be arriving with every moment.

It was Padma Patil who ran into him just outside of the Great Hall and who told him of Ravenclaw's famous diadem. He hugged and kissed her when she finished speaking. She yelped in surprise as he broke away and sprinted toward the nearest staircase, the sword of Gryffindor on his hip. Seven flights never seemed so easy as he hopped of the last step.

Just in time for Voldemort to invade his mind. He missed his step as he landed and slid across the floor, his hands clutching at his head as Voldemort presented his demands to the inhabitants of Hogwarts Castle.

The Dark Lord's presence in his head left him incapacitated for a few moments. He only recovered when he heard voices coming up the staircase at the end of the hall.

"What are you doing?" a male hissed.

"Just go home, I'll be fine," a female responded. Harry brought his head up and saw as she ascended the last step. She jogged toward the wall where the Room of Requirement would appear and stared at it.

He opened his mouth to speak but then he saw Theodore Nott climb the stairs behind her. He'd been perhaps a full flight behind her, and he was panting with the exertion of the climb.

"You heard The Dark Lord. Anyone in the castle is an enemy. We need to get out of here," Nott said. Harry rose to his feet as Daphne continue to stare at the wall.

"Hello, Nott," Harry said. Daphne spun around to face him and Nott, to his credit, rushed forward with his wand drawn, putting his body between his fiancée and Harry.

"Run, Daphne! He's dangerous! He killed one of us tonight in Hogsmeade!" Nott yelled, genuine fear on his face. Harry was surprised the news spread that fast.

Still, the word fiancée stuck out in Harry's head and his eyes flashed toward Daphne's left hand. His heart sank when he saw the rather large diamond ring on her left ring finger. It looked out of place, too large and too ornate for her. He almost didn't notice her sliding her wand out of her pocket. He shielded the first spell from Nott without much effort.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Daphne shouted and Nott froze in place in the middle of the hallway. Harry leveled his wand on her and she stared back at him, as if daring him to do more. Instead, he lowered his wand and she did the same.

"You know," he said. He opened his arms and moved to hug her but she stepped away from him. "When I said you could do better than Belby, I meant me."

"You disappeared," Daphne said.

"I'm sorry about that," he said. "There were extenuating circumstances. And it really wasn't how I wanted things to go."

"I assumed," Daphne said. She stepped around him as he attempted hug number two. Harry frowned.

"Do you really love Nott?" He asked.

"With every fiber of my being," she said. But her voice was harsh and he spoke through gritted teeth.

"What did he do?" Harry asked, picking up on her vitriol without much effort. It had been directed at him often enough. He focused himself and sensed something off from her hand, something dark.

"Nothing," Daphne said. "He would never do anything to harm me. He loves and adores me. I'm his queen."

"The ring," Harry said.

"And I would never do anything to harm him," she added she raised her wand and started to wand motions to disenchant the body bind. "It hurts me to even think of it."

Harry caught her meaning and as soon as she released the body bind robes attached themselves to Nott's body and affixed him to a nearby wall.

"She's mine, Potter," Nott smirked. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

"He's right," Daphne said. Her whole body shook as she looked at Nott. "As long as I wear this ring, I can't so much as touch another man without severe pain. I live for him."

"Well that seems like an easy fix," Harry said. He leveled his wand on Nott. He intended to use a blasting curse, but in that moment, he really wanted Nott dead. And frankly, there was an easier option. "Avada-"

"No," Daphne said. "If he dies, it just transfers to the next Nott heir. His six-year-old cousin who can't undo it until he's of age. And then his four-year-old cousin. And then his newborn cousin. And then I have no idea."

Theodore was openly laughing from the wall at that point. Harry wondered how many Nott's he'd have to kill until he was the closest thing to a living heir. It was a feasible option, he thought, but seemed like a lot of effort.

"Do you really need all ten fingers?" Harry asked. Daphne rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't know if that would work either. But there's something else," Daphne said. It seemed like each word was a struggle for her, but a smile slowly curved onto her face.

"What's that?"

"He's always wondered how I could resist it. He didn't press. I suspect he figured it would take effect eventually and he could be patient. He could see it winning slowly. But he never realized one thing," Daphne said.

"What are you talking about?" Nott looked genuinely confused. Daphne reached into her pocket with her left hand and drew it out slowly.

"Love is a powerful magic," she said.

"Who cares? You're bound to me, your feelings don't matter," Theodore said from the wall. A smug smirk still on his face.

"Someone I actually love gave me something last year. Something he'd made with his own hands, his own efforts, and a little bit of his own love, even if he wasn't sure of it yet. And there's power in that," Daphne said. She turned and faced Harry with her left hand open, palm up. Resting in her shaking hand was a ceramic statue of a fox.

"I love you," Harry laughed.

"Get this fucking thing off me," Daphne ordered. "I can only ever keep it off of myself for a few minutes."

"Gladly," Harry said. He reached for her hand and slid his fingers around the diamond ring. It was easier to slide off than he expected. He stared at it in his hand for a moment and then placed it on the ground.

In his heart he knew he couldn't do the next bit for her. There were some things that had he could only help with. And he'd provided what help he could. He took the sword from his hip and offered it to Daphne.

"I can't," she said, sounding panicked as her gaze focused on the ring on the ground.

"Yes, you can," he said. "I know you can."

And Daphne Greengrass, a seventeen-year-old Slytherin halfblood, took the Sword of Godric Gryffindor into her hand. The blade trembled in her uncertain grip as she stepped toward the ring. She held the point inches from it on the ground and with one deep breath, a scream, and a simple jab, she rid herself of Theodore Nott.

"Thank you," she said to Harry as she handed back the sword. She looked for a moment like she would hug him. But then she turned and walked right up to Theodore. She took a deep breath and kicked him square in the groin. He screamed.

When he finished screaming, she did it again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And she would have done it again, had Harry not put his hand on her shoulder. She stiffened against his touch, fear evident in her as she did. And then she looked down at his hand, and then up at him. And then down at his hand. And then up at him. And then her lips were on his.

"I love you," she whispered when they came up for air.

"I love you too," he said.

"What are we doing here?" Daphne asked.

"Voldemort hid bits of his soul in objects. There's one more. I think it's Ravenclaw's lost diadem and that he hid it in the Room of Requirement," Harry said. He started pacing, thinking of a room where one could hide anything and a door appeared.

"Let's find it," she said. They entered the room only to find rows and rows of clutter upon clutter. Harry found his thoughts oddly focused on Theodore Nott and he felt like he should be doing something other than looking for a Horcrux.

"Shit," Harry said. But Daphne was already weaving through the items.

"Focus," she said. Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Something told him to go left, so he did. Daphne followed.

"Can I ask something?" Harry asked.

"Of course."

"Did you and Nott…?" his voice trailed off.

"Does it matter?" Daphne asked.

"Yes and no," Harry said.

"Explain," Daphne ordered as her eyes scanned the room for anything that could be remotely described as a diadem.

"I don't care if you've…you know. But if he forced you…then I have to go back out and kill him," Harry said. There was no hesitation in his sentence.

"He's not worth it," Daphne said. Harry mashed his teeth together and had to fight rather hard to not turn around. "And he didn't."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"I told him that a proper Pureblood lady would wait until her wedding night. He seemed intrigued by that. And the ring made it so it hurt if I touched another male. Even hugging my father burned. And I wasn't around him that much. I didn't come back to Hogwarts either. Dad homeschooled Astoria and I for the most part. Then I helped out at the hospital," Astoria said.

"How did he come about?" Harry asked.

"He cornered me at the hospital and proposed to me by telling me that if I didn't agree to marry him, then his father would find out how we stole our magic and would make sure that my parents and sister were prosecuted to the fullest extent of the new laws," Daphne said.

"Romantic," Harry said.

"I didn't see another option. I didn't think a cursed ring would be part of it. My parents tried to help but my father couldn't touch me and my mother ran out of ideas fairly early on. I think they were pretty close to your amputation option as well," Daphne said.

"I need to kill him," Harry said.

"You need to defeat Lord Voldemort. I've enough evidence to make sure Theodore Nott and his father spend the rest of their lives in Azkaban. And I think that is punishment enough," Daphne said.

"I don't," Harry scoffed.

"Well, if you go back and kill Theodore, then you won't be looking for this stupid diadem. And it'll take longer to finish Voldemort. Which means it'll be even longer before we can do what I want to do."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Let me put it this way. Once you've won the war. Which you're going to win otherwise I'm going to be very cross with you, you're going to want to get everything sorted out very quickly."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm only going to give you about as long as it'll take me to find a keg of contraceptive potion before I drag you out of here to somewhere, anywhere, where we will be left alone for, well, a while," Daphne said.

"Oh…" Harry blinked. "Are you sure?"

"I've spent the last few months wholly convinced that I would never get to have what I want, or touch someone I love, or, well, love someone I love. I am going to rectify that as soon as this is over."

"Well, we better find that diadem then."

"Exactly," Daphne said as their search resumed.

To his surprise, the search didn't take much longer. The more he focused, the more he was convinced he knew where the diadem was. And not twenty minutes later they found it resting on a bust. Harry climbed up to grab it. He tossed it down to Daphne then hopped down. She examined it with a frown.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's pretty," she shrugged. "And famous. Seems a shame to destroy it."

"It does," Harry said. She set it down on a nearby table and moved through the clutter to his side. He raised the sword and brought it down through the diadem. They left it there, seeing little reason to take it with them, as they fled from the Room of Requirement.

Nott was still bound to the wall when they left. He was crying openly and yelled after Daphne as they ran by.

"Hang on a second," Daphne said. She ran back toward Theodore and kicked him once more before catching back up to Harry.

"Are you sure you don't just want me to kill him? We can toss him down the stairs and make it look like an accident," Harry said.

"No, it's fine. I'm good now," Daphne said.

"I'll take your word for it," Harry said as they descended the stairs. "Not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?"

"Astoria and Dennis came to help. There was a rumor that students were getting in through Hogsmeade and winding up on the seventh floor. It seemed too obvious," Daphne said.

"It was," Harry said. "I haven't seen her. If you want to find her."

"She can take care of herself," Daphne said in a tone that didn't lead Harry to believe her. "I'm staying with you until the end."

"Okay," Harry said as they hit the ground floor.

Spells flew by their heads as soon as they hit the lower level. Harry ducked underneath a rather vile, tentacled purple spear, pulling Daphne down with him as they both realized the Death Eater attack was in full swing.

They weaved through the fighting as well as they could. Harry was looking for Ron or Hermione to see if there was any update on Voldemort or the snake, while Daphne was doing all she could to stay with him.

Harry ducked into the classroom corridor, hoping it would be less crowded than the surrounding areas, and hoping it would give him a chance to check the map to see where he should go next. Something, he thought, he should have checked before they'd come down the stairs.

He ran through a few more hallways, sensing Daphne matching him stride for stride. He stopped to fight Death Eaters. Both times he had surprise on his side and managed to end the fight quickly.

When he turned another corner his heart stopped. He saw Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle standing at the end of the hallway. Draco was laughing as he slashed his wand back and forth. His spells were being deflected, but Harry could sense the defensive energy fading. Crabbe and Goyle were combining their efforts to shield their back from assault so Malfoy could keep tormenting his prey. Both of them were peering over the shoulders and watching, their attention slipping from their combined shield.

He ducked to the side of the hallway and saw what Draco was doing. The Slytherin stood over Dennis Creevy and was slashing his wand repeatedly down at him. Dennis's face and chest were covered with lacerations but he stood his ground, defending against Draco as best as he could.

His brother was on the ground behind him blood flowing from a large wound on his chest. Colin kept trying to rise to his feet but Astoria Greengrass pressed him back to the ground as she tried to heal his wounds. She was bleeding from her brow and had cuts and scorch marks on her clothing. Harry watched from afar as the wound slowly closed.

"Come now, Creevey," Draco laughed. "Just let me have her and I'll let you tend to your brother. I might even tell you the counter-jinx."

"What do you even want. What did we do to you?" Dennis shot back, desperation filling his voice.

"Theodore claimed her sister. She's better looking than Pansy, even if she's only a Halfblood. Can't let him one up me so I need the prettier sister," Draco said, launching a bludgeoning hex at Dennis's shield. The young man's knees buckled against the force of it.

"Fuck off, Malfoy." Dennis managed to sneak a quick cutting hex out from behind his shield. It hit Goyle in the shin and the large man screamed in annoyance. But his shield wavered and Draco readied another spell. Harry recognized the motions from the Half-Blood Prince and felt even more hatred for the old Professor.

A large ghostly spear erupted from his wand and shot at Dennis. It slowed against the shield but Harry knew it was designed to slowly penetrate through and keep going. He saw Dennis buckle against it.

But just as the shield broke he saw Colin launch himself up. The injured Creevey brother managed to knock Dennis back as the shield gave way to the spear. The magical beam pierced through his neck and shot toward Dennis.

It pierced through Dennis's shoulder as he fell away. The young man screamed as it penetrated him and continued on. A purple mist emanated from the wound, constricting against Dennis's chest as he started to gasp for air and fight against it. Finally, the spear impaled into Astoria's thigh. She shrieked in pain, her eyes flashing toward her leg, the same purple mist encasing her leg.

Harry rushed forward as Goyle turned his attention away from the shield and toward his wounded leg. It gave him all the distraction Harry needed and he threw pure force into both Crabbe and Goyle. The large Slytherins flew across the hallway, impacting hard into the walls. Goyle's neck looked broken as his body slumped over. Crabbe struggled back to his feet but Harry hit him straight on with a stunning spell.

Draco spun around and leveled his wand on Harry. He sneered with contempt and superiority.

"Potter. The Dark Lord will appreciate…" but whatever it was the Dark Lord would appreciate, Harry would never find out. As Draco's upper body turned into mist as a blasting curse passed through it. His legs fell to separate sides, all that remained of his body.

Harry looked over and saw Daphne's wand still leveled on the spot where Draco had been. Her eyes were wide, as if utterly shocked by what she'd just done. But then her attention flashed to her sister. The spear in her leg vanished the moment Draco died and blood was pouring onto the castle floor.

Harry looked to Colin. He was clearly dead. His head only attached to his shoulders by a small bit of flesh where the majority of his neck used to be. The sight made him want to vomit so he looked away from it toward Dennis. He was motionless on the ground, blood flowing freely from his shoulder.

He turned back to Daphne. She hadn't moved and was still staring at her sister, panic welling on her face.

"Save your sister," Harry ordered. Daphne blinked and then shook her head, her gaze shifting to him.

"But I have to stay with you. I said I'd stay with you. I can't leave you," Daphne said. Harry stared at her for a moment and then kissed her, hard. Her body relaxed

"Save your sister. Save Dennis. I'll find you when it's all over. I love you," he ordered again. She nodded at him and rushed to Astoria's side. Harry watched for a moment before he knew he had to leave her and end the war.

---

The White and Yellow teams returned to the pitch to start the second half. The energy in the stadium had shifted. Everything grew tenser with each passing moment. Something felt different, more focused, as play started.

White gained possession early, but their play seemed slowed and too conservative. Possession looked like it would be the story of the second half. Eight stayed in the midfield, moving up on offense, looking for gaps in the Yellow defense. When the gaps didn't form, she would fall back on defense and they'd start the entire process over again.

It wasn't, Harry thought, the style of play that had gotten them to this point. And he questioned the motives beyond going to it in that moment. But he wasn't a manager. And it didn't matter if he thought they'd eventually be overmatched by what was an extremely talented Yellow team.

Seven minutes into the second half he was almost proven right. White tried to regroup from an offensive push that went nowhere. They seemed to hesitate almost as a team but it created enough of an opportunity for Yellow to burst through their defense.

The Yellow Players dissected them with an almost brutal efficiency until they were heading straight on goal. Harry heard the collective intake of breath as they saw the play develop.

But before the Yellow Nine could get the shot off the White Eight slid through the ball, knocking it toward the corner. The White Four had recovered enough to chase it down as Eight shot back up to her feet. She yelled at two of her teammates before taking a pass from Four and continuing to press up field, looking for anything that resembled an opportunity.

Harry chewed on his lip, wondering if that strategy would work out for them. But, he thought, they'd committed to it and would have to see where it got them.

---

When he thought about the end of the war Harry had a very hard time finding it to be anything other than anti-climactic. To make matters worse, if he was being entirely honest, he didn't remember most of it. He remembered letting Voldemort kill him to destroy the final horcrux. And he remembered coming back and finishing the man. But everything about it seemed hazy in his memory, like bits of it faded the more he thought about it.

In the end, though, he figured it was memories he'd rather not have anyway. When Voldemort's corpse hit the floor of the Great Hall there wasn't a cheer or any type of acknowledgment. It seemed to take a few minutes for anyone to realize what happened. Harry blew two other Death Eaters out of the way and engaged a third before they seemed to realize that if Harry Potter was fighting them, then Harry Potter wasn't fighting Lord Voldemort. And the only reason that would happen was if Lord Voldemort was no longer fighting.

Some of them ran, some of them surrendered, and some of them died. Harry didn't have any particular concern about either of the three outcomes. Only then did everyone try to find him and congratulate him.

It was odd. He remembered thinking of all the adoration he'd receive for ridding the world of Voldemort. Thoughts of that nature had filled his mind for the last seven years. Of exactly what it would mean to not only be the hero, but for everyone to know he been right every time they doubted them.

But in the moment, he didn't care about that. He didn't care about the adoration. He didn't care about the people coming up to him, congratulating him, praising him, and all so many people wanting to cheer with him, stand near him, be seen with him. It shouldn't have surprised him that he hated every second of it.

There was only one person he wanted to see. And she wasn't in the Great Hall. He pushed away from the throng of people swarming him. He may have knocked a few of them to the ground but he didn't care.

He left the Great Hall, completely ignoring a gregarious Mrs. Weasley as she tried to engulf him in a hug. He took out the map and activated it, scanning until he saw her name in the infirmary. It was hard to make out the specific dot, as there seemed to be a score of dots in the small room.

It only took him a minute or so to make it to the infirmary. The doors were thrown open and he walked right in. To his surprise, Daphne stood in the middle of the room and was ordering two elves about. She turned and saw him. They hugged in the middle of the infirmary in what, to him, felt like the moment the war actually ended.

"They said you died," she commented.

"I got better. You don't seem surprised to see me," Harry responded.

"I never thought you'd lose," she said. Harry looked around and saw various students, adults, Death Eaters, and even a few creatures spread out on beds.

"How can I help?" Harry asked.

"Have you seen the nurse?" Daphne asked.

"No," Harry said.

"I got Astoria and Colin down here but I didn't know what else to do aside from stopping the bleeding and closing the wounds. And I think that might have just trapped the curse in both of them. The nurse's floo is password locked and I can't get the hospital to answer," Daphne explained. Her eyes shifted toward the corner of the room.

She'd enlarged one of the small beds and had Astoria and Dennis in the same one. He wondered why for a moment, until he realized that every bed in the room was filled, and most had more than one patient. It has obviously been easier for her to enlarge the beds than conjure new ones as she tried to work.

He also noticed that her body was shaking, her hands were covered in blood, and she looked on the verge of collapse. He wanted to hug her, hold her, whisper to her that it would all be okay and take her out of that hell. But he knew that if he were to do any of those things, it wouldn't all be okay.

He knew he had to do something. But he knew so very little about healing magic. His eyes scanned the room and he saw a house elf with a bandaged ear looking dazed on one of the beds and an idea struck.

"Kreacher!" he barked. The elf popped to his side in an instant. Harry felt an odd sense of relief at that the creature had survived.

"Yes master?" Kreacher asked. The elf with the bandaged ear perked up as Kreacher entered the room. Her eyes focusing entirely on the new house elf. Harry ignored it.

"Get to St. Mungo's. Tell them Harry Potter says we need help immediately. Then find Nathan and Claire Greengrass and get them here as quickly as you can," Harry ordered. Kreacher nodded and vanished.

Less then ten seconds later a stern Indian man appeared from the fire. He looked around the room and moved quickly to Harry.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"It's over, Voldemort is dead. We have injured here and in the Great Hall," Harry started but Daphne interrupted.

"Most of them have spell damage but I don't know the spells. I tried to organize them by what I thought happened to them but I was guessing," she added. "How many more Healers are coming?"

"None," the man said.

"At least two, Viraj," another voice said as Nathan Greengrass stepped from the fire. A few seconds later his wife followed him through. She rushed to Daphne and hugged her and in that moment Daphne broke. She started bawling against her chest. Claire Greengrass tried to comfort her daughter, but Daphne pulled her over toward the bed where Astoria and Dennis lay motionless. He saw Nathan Greengrass's gaze shift to Astoria. The man hesitated but closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and got to work. Harry figured it best to not intrude on the family as he heard Daphne start to explain what happened.

He did notice the briefest flashes of relief on Claire Greengrass's face as she noticed her daughter no longer wore a ring.

"How can I help?" Harry asked the Indian healer.

"Gracious," the man looked startled. "Harry Potter?"

"The one and only. What can I do?" he asked. The healer pondered for a moment.

"Padma speaks highly of you," he said.

"And I her," Harry snapped, hoping to get to something productive faster. The man seemed to interpret his tone.

"Find Poppy if you can. If not find anyone with basic medical training, Aurors would be great they know enough field healing to help and get them down here. We'll need to come up with a way to transport the worst to the hospital. If Horace Slughorn or Severus Snape are still around, get them brewing potions immediately. The usuals, they'll know what to do," Viraj Patil ordered. Harry nodded, figuring there was no reason to mention Snape was dead, as he rushed from the room.

The rest of the day was a blur. He remembered finding Pomfrey's body in with a group of what could only be victims of werewolves. He remembered having very little trouble convincing Slughorn to start brewing medical potions, and then he remembered being ordered about by Viraj Patil and Nathan Greengrass.

He overheard them complain about the Head Healer at St. Mungo's, an Anita Albright, has ordered the other healers to not assist the school. They didn't know if she was under the Imperius Curse and being controlled by Death Eaters, or just being difficult.

Either way, it violated her oaths and both of them were appalled at how few of their number had chosen to ignore her.

He spent the next few hours taking orders from Healer Patil. His main goal was nothing more than to do whatever he could to help. Hours later, he wasn't sure how he was still on his feet. But the Healers hadn't stopped, so he figured he shouldn't either.

It wasn't until Claire Greengrass escorted him out of the infirmary that he realized his eyes were having a very hard time staying open. He didn't really know where she was taking him.

He woke in one of the Hogwarts guest rooms the next morning. He'd fallen asleep fully dressed on top of the covers. Any thought of how he got there vanished when Ron and Hermione came bursting into the room.

They asked him where he'd been and what he'd been doing. He'd missed most of the party! He countered with the truth and the same question, which made both of them flush red. They insisted on him coming to breakfast. Apparently, most of the people had partied all night and collapsed in the Great Hall. Harry agreed to go mostly to leave the room.

It wasn't that hard to get them talking. And when they were otherwise distracted, he slipped away from them and moved toward the infirmary. Only ten patients remained. Harry vaguely remembered working on getting the patients to St. Mungo's during the evening and figured that only a few, stable patients remained.

Claire Greengrass stood in the middle of the room, peering down at a clipboard and nursing a cup of coffee. Harry gazed around to see if Astoria or Dennis were still there but they weren't.

"Hello," Harry said. The Healer looked over at him, then peered down at her watch.

"Five hours? You should try to get more sleep. From what I gathered you've been going for a while," Claire Greengrass said.

"I'm fine," Harry shrugged. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing," Mrs. Greengrass said with a yawn. "It's all under control now. You can rest and celebrate with everyone else."

"How are Daphne and Astoria?" Harry asked.

"Nathan took Daphne home. Astoria is at St. Mungo's. She's still catatonic."

"I'm sorry."

"She lost a lot of blood. Daphne closed the wound right away because she was rightly concerned about the blood loss, but it sealed whatever the curse was inside her and allowed it to spread more. It's contained mostly to her leg but…" she trailed off.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Magic can have strange effects on the body of a developing witch or wizard," Mrs. Greengrass said. "And even that's assuming they can get all the curse out."

"Ah," Harry said. "Was Dennis alright?"

"Was that the boy with her?"

"Yes."

"He's worse off than her. Same thing. Daphne healed the superficial but didn't know what to do about the magical. He got more of it than Astoria, and it was centered on his chest. I would be surprised if he wakes up."

"Fuck," Harry sniffed. Claire Greengrass raised her brows at him. "Sorry. It's just. Well, his brother died for him. And his parents will be devastated."

"I suspect so," her voice trailed off and Harry could sense she was thinking of how she'd feel having to plan two funerals.

"Can I go see them?" he asked.

"You're an adult wizard responsible for the defeat of a Dark Lord. I would suspect you can get into a hospital room," Mrs. Greengrass said. Harry frowned and looked away.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" he asked as he moved toward the door.

"No. Thank you. And thank you for helping," she said. Harry nodded and moved to exit only to find Ron and Hermione waiting for him. Hermione wanted to drag him back to the Great Hall for food but Harry shook his head and moved to leave the castle. They followed until he encouraged them to not. He had something to do, he said, and they should spend some time with just the two of them.

He traveled to Hogsmeade and used the floo at The Three Broomsticks, after convincing Madame Rosmerta that she didn't need to buy him drinks, to St. Mungo's. The receptionist at the hospital wasn't overly helpful but he got the info he needed. He bought flowers at the gift shop, as well as two mugs of tea, before he found his way into a small room on the fourth floor after not too long.

Daphne had moved a chair right next to the bed and was dabbing at her sister's forehead with a damp cloth. Astoria, for her part, looked to be peacefully asleep.

"Hey," he said. Daphne looked up at him. Her eyes were sunken and it looked like she hadn't slept much, if at all.

"Hey," she responded.

"How are you doing?" he asked. He placed the vase of flowers on the table and offered one of the mugs to her. She took it in both hands and inhaled deeply before she took a sip.

"I might have killed her," Daphne said as tears welled in her eyes.

"I'm sure you didn't," he said.

"I might have," Daphne repeated.

"You did what you could do," Harry said. "If you weren't there she wouldn't be here now. None of it is your fault."

"If she dies," Daphne started.

"She won't-" Harry interrupted.

"I'll always blame myself," Daphne finished.

"You shouldn't. And she'll pull through. I know it," Harry said.

"How?" she asked.

"Because I owe her a favor still. And I can't imagine Astoria is going to let me off the hook that easily," Harry said. Daphne's laugh was hard and hollow, more of a bark than anything, but her lips did curl up into a smile.

"No," she said. "She will definitely want to cash that in. I hate to think of what she'd ask for."

"How's Dennis?" Harry asked, wondering if she knew more than her mother. Daphne frowned, and Harry realized he was asking about another person she was blaming herself for.

"Not good," Daphne said. "Dad went to get his parents. They're in the room across the hall. They're not taking it well."

"I should go say something," Harry said. Daphne moved to stop him but he was already out of the room. He knocked on the door and Nathan Greengrass opened it. Inside he saw two short adults staring at their son's body in a bed. Mrs. Creevey was caressing his brow while Mr. Creevey just looked lost. There were obviously Muggle, uncomfortable about the entire thing.

To Harry's surprise, Mr. Greengrass wasn't wearing the traditional lime Healer's Robes, but instead a white Doctor's coat with his name embroidered on the chest. He looked every bit the Muggle Doctor. Harry knew the man had that training as well, Daphne had spoken about it, and Harry assumed part of it was to put the Muggles at ease.

The adults all looked at Harry and he took a deep breath. He didn't know what to say, but he knew he had to say something. He apologized for Colin and wished the best for Dennis. He promised to do what he could. And he spoke about how infectious and wonderful both of their sons were. The words flooded out faster then he could think. In the end, the three of them were crying.

Mr. Greengrass interrupted them by saying he should get Harry out of the way and it seemed to occur to the Creeveys that they were talking to the Harry Potter. The same boy they'd listened to their kids rave about for years. And they started to question him, ask for stories of their kids at school and Harry was happy to oblige.

Eventually he and Mr. Greengrass left the Creeveys alone in their son's hospital room and moved back into Astoria's room. Daphne was still sitting at her sister's bedside, her eyes half closed.

"You should go home and get some sleep, Daphne," her father said as he entered the room.

"You too," Daphne countered. Nathan Greengrass made a show of yawning.

"Yes. I should. Your mother just got relieved at the infirmary. I'm only staying on until Farah or Gideon kick me out. I give them two hours. You can use the staff floo to get straight home if you want. No one will say anything if you go into the staff lounge."

"I don't want to leave," Daphne said.

"Daphne," Mr. Greengrass sighed. "Don't make me stun you and drag you home."

"Fine," Daphne glared. Harry didn't think the threat was serious but she stood, wobbling slightly on her feet, and hugged her father once before taking Harry's hand and led him from the room.

"I'm sorry about this," she added as they moved through the hospital.

"It's not your fault," Harry said.

"I don't really want to go home," she said.

"I have a house not too far away. It's…well…creepy, but," Harry said.

"You do?" Daphne asked.

"I do," Harry said. And he started to talk of Sirius Black and Grimmauld Place. He told her the truths of the war that he hadn't spoken to anyone outside of Ron and Hermione. Daphne listened until they boarded the train on the underground. She leaned against him and almost immediately fell asleep. He hated waking her when it was time to leave.

He continued the story as they walked the final few streets to Grimmauld Place. He told her the secret as the building appeared in front of them. He opened the door for her, wincing as she gasped when she entered, wondering if it was the dark décor or the house elf heads that surprised her.

He hadn't expected to gasp when he entered as well.

The house was transformed. Every bit of it looked completely different from the last time he'd been there. Even the screaming portrait of Sirius's mother was gone. Harry blinked and looked at the pristine walls and furnishings.

"Kreacher?" he asked and the elf appeared, along with the smaller elf with the bandaged ear he'd seen in the hospital wing.

"Master?" Kreacher asked.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Kreacher and Lottie are redecorating," Kreacher said. Harry noticed the other elf had an armful of magazines featuring all sorts home décor.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Kreacher knows master did not like how old mistress decorated house. He figured new master would prefer the exact opposite. Lottie offered to help," Kreacher shrugged. The smaller elf looked at him with adoration and Harry figured he didn't need to think any harder about what two elves got up to in their free time.

"We is only about half done," the other elf squeaked.

"I think it's gorgeous," Daphne said. She paused for a bit before adding. "Have you redone that bandage?" The elf shook her head and Daphne went to work on replacing the bandage. The elf looked rather embarrassed by the whole ordeal. And it only worsened when the charred bit of her ear was revealed.

"I think it's wonderful," Harry admitted, hoping to draw the attention from the wounded elf. Both the elves blushed.

"We will continue then," Kreacher said. "The master bedroom and main sitting rooms are ready for master's use. If master needs anything Kreacher is prepared."

"Thanks Kreacher," Harry said. "I think I'm good for now."

"You have two elves?" Daphne asked as they disappeared.

"Seems like you know Lottie better than I do," Harry admitted. "But yeah, Kreacher is bound to me."

"This house is stupid nice. The Black's must have been absolutely loaded," Daphne said.

"I guess," Harry shrugged.

"Where is the master bedroom?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. They both walked up the stairs, assuming it wouldn't be on the ground floor. Harry was too busy staring around at the new décor to catch her meaning. "I usually took a smaller one."

"I see," she said, stifling a yawn.

"I think you need a nap," Harry said.

"I think I need to pass out," Daphne said. They moved to the end of the hall on the second floor and opened the door to a plush bedroom dominated by an incredibly appealing king-sized bed.

"Fair enough," he said. Daphne slipped from him and peered into the open bathroom.

"Wow," she said. Harry moved behind her and peered over her shoulder at the large marble tub in the corner. Harry noticed all sorts of brand-new toiletries on the counter, between the dual sinks. Fluffy bathrobes hung on hooks between towels and every bit of it looked very appealing.

"That looks nice," he said. She spun around, looking more alert than she had for their entire walk. And looking rather embarrassed as well.

"A bath actually sounds amazing. Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not at all," Harry said. She hugged him and then slipped into the bathroom. He heard the taps start running on the sink and then on the tub. After a couple of minutes, the door opened again.

She stood there, wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, and looked over at him.

"Do you want to join me?" she asked in a small voice. It took Harry a moment to comprehend her.

"I'd love to," he said. He found it oddly hard to move as he moved toward the bathroom. He noticed her clothing on the ground near the tub and tried not to think too hard about the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under the bathrobe.

It seemed to take forever for him to get his shirt off. Daphne watched as it fell to the ground. He fumbled with his pants and then nearly tripped while peeling off his socks. Soon he stood before her in only his boxers.

She took a deep breath and let the robe fall to the ground. He stared. He couldn't help it. She was beautiful and naked before him. His eyes ran over every inch of her, taking in every small bit of skin he could. Before he could reach for her, she turned from him and stepped into the tub, sinking into the middle of the warm water with a soft moan.

Harry slipped his final bit of clothing off and obliged her as she gestured to the water behind her. She leaned against him in the warm water, her body pressing into his as her muscles relaxed against him. It was, Harry decided, the best feeling of his life.

His hands rested on her hips for a moment before sliding around her stomach and ribs. He meant to let them wander more. He wanted to let them wander more. She cooed softly against his touch, spurring him on. But, in the end, the warm water was too much for them and they fell asleep in the tub.

"Harry?" Her voice woke him.

"Hmm?" he asked as he blinked the world back into focus.

"I'm turning into a prune," she said.

"Let's get out," he said. She nodded and they both made to exit the tub. He found a towel and wrapped it around her, drying her with gentle touches as she giggled against him. When he'd finished, she kissed him and then did the same.

"Should we get back to the hospital?" he asked. Daphne shook her head.

"No," she said. She shifted away from him and opened a small potion's chest on the counter. She took out a small vial filled with a bright pink potion and drank it down in one gulp. Harry made a mental note to thank Kreacher and let the elf have whatever Black artifact he wanted to keep.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Oh yes," she said. "I want you. And…"

"What?" he asked as her voice trailed off.

"It's sort of amusing to me that our first times will be the first time in your new bed," she giggled. Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"That is amusing," he said as his nerves started up. He calmed them by kissing her. Her body responded to his, her mouth melding to his. She whispered his name against his lips and they stepped from the bathroom.

She fell backwards onto the bed and Harry decided the sight of her laying there before him with her hair fanned out on the pillows was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He climbed onto her, kissing her repeatedly and losing himself in her.

Eventually her limbs wrapped around him and she urged him to do something he'd wanted to do for a very long time. He was more than happy to oblige her. She bit him at first, her nails scraping hard over his back as she gasped in pain. But she urged him on nonetheless and soon it all became bliss.

When it was over it took all of their remaining energy to whisper that they loved each other before they fell asleep in each other's embrace.

They woke in the middle of the night. They cuddled and called Kreacher for a snack. The elf obliged and they ate and cuddled more before they fell asleep again.

In the morning they showered together and ventured downstairs to find that Lottie had prepared breakfast and cappuccinos. Daphne commented that it was pretty easy to see just how spoiled Purebloods were and Harry couldn't help but think she was right.

Around ten in the morning they took the Underground back to St. Mungo's. Harry noticed that Daphne did not have to make any of the same security checks that he'd had to. And that most of the Healers there greeted her amiably as she walked unimpeded through the hospital.

Outside of Astoria's room the heard a shrill, pained scream. Daphne bolted straight for the door as soon as she heard it. Harry lagged a few steps behind as it occurred to him that he'd have to face her parents and that they had to have a fairly good idea of what he'd done to their daughter.

A second scream came from the room but as soon as Daphne opened the door it stopped and changed to a much more pleasant tone.

"Oh, Hi Daphne," Astoria said from the bed. She was sitting on the covers in a hospital gown and a lime-robed Healer was prodding at her leg, trying to move it with her hands.

"You're awake!" Daphne gasped.

"She came to around midnight," Claire Greengrass said from the corner. She was not wearing Healer's robes or a Doctor's coat.

"How are you?" Daphne asked.

"I can't move my leg," Astoria said with a frown. The healer tried to bend it again and Astoria winced and grit her teeth.

"I'm sorry," Daphne said.

"Don't be stupid. I know you saved me. I saw you doing it before I passed out," Astoria said as Harry entered the room.

"But if I'd have known more," Daphne started but Astoria's eyes shifted to Harry.

"Wait did you spend the night with Harry?" Astoria asked.

"Hi Astoria," Harry said, rolling his eyes as Daphne blushed and looked away.

"Hi Harry," Astoria said. "I take it you got my sister out of that stupid engagement?"

"She got herself out of it," Harry said.

"Good for her," Astoria smiled.

"How did you destroy that cursed ring?" her mother asked. "We'd tried countless spells."

"A sword," Daphne said.

"The Sword of Gryffindor," Harry said. "It's a powerful goblin made blade that seems particularly adept at destroying cursed objects."

"Gross, Gryffindor?" Astoria made an exaggerated face that shifted into a grimace as the Healer kept working on her leg.

"Apparently," Daphne said with a shrug of her shoulders as if it was her first time hearing about it. And the conversation shifted to that. At some point Nathan Greengrass entered as well, also in civilian clothing. Harry explained to them what he'd been doing that year. The adults were both rather fascinated by the Horcruxes and the quest he'd gone through for them. And both were rather annoyed that their daughter hadn't thought to bring the destroyed ring for evidence.

Harry and Daphne both had to admit they hadn't thought of it. Astoria continued to tease them as the Healer finally stopped working on her leg and ordered some food brought to them. She needled them about how they'd spent the night before her parents took Daphne from the room.

"You're so going to get the 'if you hurt my daughter I'll hex you into oblivion' speech when dad gets back," Astoria teased.

"I'm surprised they'd leave me alone with you," Harry countered.

"They probably think I'll hex you," Astoria said. "Or hope I do."

"Probably," Harry chuckled.

"So…" she started.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" she giggled.

"Yes," he said, dryly.

"Great. So, you know that favor you owe me from last year?" she asked.

"Do I even want to know where this is going?" he countered.

"I want to see Dennis," Astoria said.

"Are you supposed to move?"

"Why do you think I'm asking you?"

"Fair enough," he said. He took a deep breath and figured this was a monumentally stupid idea. "I'll give it a go but if you so much as wince or anything I'm tossing you back into that bed."

"Deal," she said. She shifted to the side of her bed, throwing her good leg over it. It took a moment to get her on her feet. But she didn't wince as they made their way across the hall. Harry knocked on the door and Mrs. Creevey answered. Dennis was still unconscious but seeing Astoria seemed to fill the woman with hope.

They kept the door open as they set Astoria into a chair. She looked ridiculous in the hospital gown with one leg jutting out before her but she smiled warmly at Mrs. Creevey. Dennis's mother recognized her name immediately and joked that she was the only one he'd talked about more than Harry Potter.

Harry let them chat. When the Greengrass family returned a few minutes later he got quite the lecture from Nathan about endangering Astoria, but given Daphne's bemused smile from behind her father he guessed at least the sister appreciated the gesture. They dragged her back to her own room.

After that he was asked to accompany Nathan Greengrass to get lunch for everyone. He did get the lecture about Daphne and he responded as meekly as he could manage. But that was the only gruff he received from either of the Greengrass parents and his life settled into a routine.

The trials started just a few days later. Harry attended every single one of them. He fought against everyone who used the Imperius Curse as a defense for their actions. And, to his surprise, Claire Greengrass was part of a team of Healers who all testified that new advancements in mind magic made it possible to tell if someone was under the curse or not.

The only Death Eater that agreed to the testing, Lucius Malfoy, failed it almost instantly. After that, the Imperius defense faded away. Other attempts to weasel out of punishment met similar counters and Harry was there every step of the way.

His days seemed to alternate between trials and funerals in an unpleasant run. What free time he'd had he spent at the hospital, mostly because that was where Daphne was. She'd spent the last year being schooled by her parents and interning there, and now she continued on her way. Her mother thought she was ready to enter Healer training and Daphne seemed very intent on following in her parents' footsteps.

Every funeral seemed worse than the last. But the worst one by far had been for Colin Creevey. It was one of the last they'd held. His parents pushed it off as long as they could in hope that Dennis would wake up and be able to attend.

He hadn't. And it seemed that a great deal of his housemates were sick of funerals by the time it came around and the crowd definitely seemed less than others. But he stood with Astoria and Daphne near the front and provided what support he could. Astoria and her crutches were never far away from Mrs. Creevey.

Harry accompanied Daphne to Theodore Nott's trial near the end of the Death Eater cases. Nott's was pushed off because he hadn't been marked. Harry hadn't been particularly looking forward to whatever Defense he'd attempt, or to what Daphne would have to admit to during the testimonies.

Daphne spoke of being cornered, being coerced, being forced to kiss and hug and pretend to like him under a cursed ring that tried to mold her thoughts, of being utterly helpless and blackmailed. And she'd agreed to give the testimony under Veritaserum. The only doubt when she finished was exactly what Nott's punishment would be.

His defense had centered around the assault he'd suffered after she'd been freed from the compulsion. Harry hadn't been able to resist the urge to comment and had openly asked Theodore how his balls were recovering. It earned a good laugh from the crowd and the judge didn't have the courage to remove him from the courtroom. In the end, Nott would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban.

After the trial he'd taken her to dinner and they'd gone back to Grimmauld place. As they lounged on a couch, drinking whatever Kreacher had brought up from the wine cellar she'd asked him what he thought about living together. Or if they were too young and stupid and it was too soon to think about that.

They were young. And they were stupid. And it was too soon to think about that. But if she wanted to, he would be absolutely thrilled with that. Her parents, he thought, were far less skeptical than he'd thought they'd be.

But they'd been through a lot, more than most at their age, and they seemed to be very good with each other and for each other. They had their blessing. Daphne moved her things in that August weekend. Her parents were rather impressed with the house, which led to Harry explaining the whole sad tale behind it.

When he'd finished Astoria asked jokingly if she could have a room.

August bled into family drama for, what Harry realized, was the first time in his life. It was odd having people ask for his opinion on things but that was what every member of the Greengrass family did.

Astoria didn't want to return to Hogwarts. At first, she didn't give any particularly convincing reasons as to why she should or shouldn't return for her sixth year. She tried to argue, rather meekly, that she'd done better with the home schooling than she had at the institution.

Harry didn't know if that was true, or fair, but he made the mistake of offering to help her in his better subjects, like Defense, and figured Daphne would be willing to help with Transfiguration even as her schedule started to fill. Which somehow put him in Astoria's camp on the argument without his really realizing he'd declared a side.

Daphne seemed on the fence, given that she'd skipped her final year at Hogwarts as well. But, she thought, there were extenuating circumstances and Astoria would be skipping her final three years. And Daphne thought that was excessive.

Eventually, as the end of the month approached, Astoria admitted that she couldn't return to Hogwarts. Not only would it peel her away from her rehab, as her leg still wasn't back to normal, and Dennis, whose condition she felt responsible for as he still hadn't woken up, but she feared what would happen.

She broke down at a family dinner, an event Harry still felt like he didn't deserve to be a part of and usually tried to sit quietly and be unobtrusive. She started crying at the table, saying she had nightmares about going back, about being in the same hallway where Draco had threatened her, hexed her, and tried to kill her. Where she'd watched Colin Creevey die for her.

She recovered enough to steel herself and say, with an admirable bravado, that she wouldn't go back. And she didn't care if she never got a NEWT, finished her education, or set foot in the magical world again. That she hated it for what it had done to her, what it had done to her sister, what it had done to Harry, and what it had made her witness. She hobbled out of the Greengrass home when she was done speaking.

The rest of the meal went about as well as could be expected.

It was later in the evening, after Harry helped Mrs. Greengrass clean, a process that consisted largely of him zapping the plates clean and her waving them into the proper drawer that the elder Woman looked at him.

They'd cave, she admitted. They loved Astoria too much and they wouldn't force her back to a place she detested. And they could find some other way for her to finish her education. She might never be a Healer or an Auror or anything, but she would find her way and they'd support her in her decisions. He wasn't sure why she was telling him that, but he promised to help in any way he could and she hugged him as they finished the dishes.

They took the train home for no other reason than they enjoyed being out in the city. To Harry, it made him feel oddly adult as they went through the minutia of life. He suspected Daphne felt the same and given that there was no pressing need to be back at Grimmauld Place, there seemed to be little reason to rush.

He was only moderately surprised to find Astoria in his kitchen. He was more surprised at how she managed to sit on a stool with her legs up and her arms wrapped around them without immediately falling off, but there she was. Lottie was trying to offer her various desserts but she was ignoring the elf and staring off into space.

Daphne slipped from his side and walked over to her sister. They started to talk while Harry stood in the entrance to the kitchen and observed. Kreacher appeared next to him after a moment. It was a fairly common occurrence whenever he returned home. The elf liked to make sure he didn't need anything. But this time he didn't ask his usual question.

"Kreacher likes the little one," the elf said.

"She's taller than Daphne now," Harry said. Astoria had grown to look much like her mother while Harry still saw more of her father's stouter frame in Daphne. Kreacher shrugged as if he didn't think Harry had a point.

"She has spirit," Kreacher added. Harry chuckled.

"I like the little one too," Harry said. "Don't tell the big one. She might get the wrong idea."

"Did you just call me 'the big one'?" Daphne snapped. Harry looked to Kreacher for a defense but the elf, who was apparently smarter than he was, had vanished.

"I refuse to answer the question on the grounds that I would implicate myself," Harry said, mimicking the Death Eaters' favorite excuse. But Daphne was smiling, and Astoria was giggling, so he figured he was in the clear.

Eventually Daphne got Astoria out of the kitchen and into a room that Lottie was preparing for her. He was listening to a Quidditch broadcast when Daphne joined him later in the evening looking exhausted from the whole ordeal. He lowered the volume on it and cuddled with her until it was time for bed.

Things changed in September. Daphne started her post-Hogwarts Healer training during the first week of the month. She'd elected for a hybrid program where she spent three days in classes at St. Mungo's and two days at a Muggle University. When she completed the program in a few years she'd have both a Doctorate and a Healer certificate, like her parents.

But it took her out of the house. Which wasn't a bad thing. It wasn't like he didn't fully support her decision. It just left him alone. And he wasn't sure how to cope with it.

He tried to get a hold of Hermione and Ron to see if they had anything to do. But Hermione had taken a job at the ministry and Ron agreed to help out at the joke shop, so they were both busy during the days. And seemed to want to spend most of the evenings together rather than with him. Which he didn't fault them for but it left him in limbo.

Sure, they'd go on double dates, but Harry could sense Daphne always felt like the odd-woman-out at those events, being the much newer addition to their friend group. They tried to include her but most of their reminiscing was about events she hadn't been present for. Hermione engaged with her better than Ron, as she always managed to come up with interesting questions about her Healer training, but somehow it always felt a little stilted.

He didn't think it was intentional. Both of his friends, and Daphne, were clearly trying and were cordial with each other. He didn't sense any animosity from either side. But, despite that, something always felt forced about those outings. Still, Daphne never complained and always insisted she'd had a great time.

On the flip side, he never seemed to have much of an issue when Tracey, Pansy or Millicent showed up. Then again, all of Daphne's former housemates spent most of their time trying to avoid him in those instances, and he more or less let them. None of them bore the Dark Mark, but all of them had family in Azkaban because of him.

They were cordial enough with him and Harry did his best to remember that the sins of the parent were not the sins of the child. Sometimes it was hard to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind that said they would have been his enemies if given more time. But that hadn't happened and there was no point dwelling on what might have been.

It got easier when Tracey started dating Dylan Harper, as Harry didn't mind the other man, and they could at least talk about Quidditch while the girls were otherwise occupied. They even met for drinks and to catch a match on occasion when the girls were otherwise occupied.

He found that his home turned into a common study spot for Daphne and her new classmates. He didn't mind. And, through it all, he still managed to take her out a couple of nights a week on little dates and they spent most of the weekends together.

But he found himself rather bored during the week. So bored that he'd started to join Astoria on what she'd called her 'rehab runs' through London. At first, they were barely a mile while Astoria hobbled her way through them, grimacing with every step she took. But as the days passed it changed into far more. And it wasn't long before it became embarrassing that she'd often go a few miles after he'd tapped out, and that she seemed to be matching his pace rather than him matching hers.

He tried getting a job. But no one at the ministry was that interested in hiring him after he'd eviscerated quite a few ministry employees during the trials. And the thought of sitting in an office and not doing a whole lot didn't appeal to him. He figured it was better to be bored at home than anywhere else.

He did get hired as a part time clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies, but when word got out he was working there, through a series of articles in the Prophet implying he was destitute, people flocked to the store to gawk at him and, notably, not buy any quality Quidditch supplies. He felt bad about the circus and quit.

The articles did have the advantage of having a few companies approach him about putting his name on products. And he agreed readily with Cheery Owls and Nimbus. There didn't seem much reason not to as did appreciate both products. Seeing his face on a magical cereal box was weird, but he got used to it.

The Nimbus events were more fun as it often entailed hanging out with various Quidditch professionals. He was rather shocked at the check they gave him whenever he showed up to an event.

Ron asked him about plugging stuff for the joke shop after he'd started on the other things and he saw no reason to not do it. So quite a few of the items quickly became Harry Potter approved. While he insisted that there was no need to compensate him for that, George Weasley had stared at him like he had two heads and Harry realized it was better to just take the money.

Those checks, too, seemed to increase exponentially as time went on. He felt a bit bad when Hermione referenced her pay once on a double date and he realized he was making far more money than her or Ron by simply being Harry Potter. He didn't comment, though.

The beginning of October finally brought some good news. He'd been on a run with Astoria that morning. She'd left him in the dust, which, wasn't a bad thing, as she had similar features to her sister which were prime for viewing from behind, but then Harry felt bad for leering at his girlfriend's sister's backside so he stopped.

When he stepped out of the shower Lottie appeared.

"Mrs. Greengrass is looking for you," she said, seeming indifferent to his nudity as he scrambled for a towel. "She is in the kitchen."

The elf disappeared before he even had a chance to reply. He wondered what warranted the visit. His first thought was something must have happened to Daphne at the hospital, but it was her Muggle school day. His second thought was Astoria was ditching her tutoring sessions. She'd insisted they were in the afternoon that morning but she could have easily been fibbing.

He dressed, throwing on a button-up shirt and some clean jeans rather than his usual loungewear and moved down to the kitchen. Claire Greengrass was sitting on a stool at the counter, wearing her lime Healer's robe, and eating one of the croissants Kreacher had left out.

"Good Morning," he said as he entered the kitchen.

"Morning," she responded. "Is Astoria here? She wasn't at home when I checked. She'd said she might come over for a run."

"She's still on it. She outpaced me pretty good today I gave up trying to keep up on the second loop," Harry said. He peered at the clock and did some quick math in his head. "I'd think she should be finished pretty soon but I don't know if she'll come back here or head home. She told me her lessons were this afternoon."

"They are, but we'll likely cancel them," she responded.

"Oh?"

"Dennis's vitals shifted this morning. He's either going to wake up, or, well…" she let her voice trail off as she took another bite of the croissant.

"I see," Harry said.

"I'd have sent a Patronus but I figured she might be in Muggle London," Mrs. Greengrass said. She fidgeted on the stool.

"I can bring her to the hospital if you need to get back," Harry said. "If she's not back in a half hour or so I can check your home, too."

"I would appreciate that," Mrs. Greengrass said as she rose from the stool and returned to work.

Harry only had to wait about ten minutes before Astoria came through the front door. She was sweaty and panting in her workout attire as she came into the kitchen for water. She stretched out her legs and after a moment, peered over at Harry who watched her rather intently.

"Don't make me tell my sister you're staring," she teased. Harry blushed and shook his head.

"That's not…Your mother came by," he said.

"What did I do now? I could have sworn she said the Arithmancy tutor was coming at noon and Charms at two," Astoria frowned.

"Dennis's condition changed. She wants me to take you to the hospital," Harry said.

"What?" she blinked as if she hadn't heard him. She shook her head quickly and looked around for her wand. Harry offered his. She zapped herself clean and out of the shorts and tight shirt she wore to run and into a conservative skirt and blouse ensemble before handing it back. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "But she thought you should be there."

"Great," Astoria frowned, her mind instantly going to the worst-case scenario. Harry scribbled a note to Daphne in case she stopped by for lunch and left it with Kreacher before taking Astoria to the hospital.

She was quiet the entire trip there. They walked in without so much as acknowledging the receptionist and moved up to the fourth floor. Viraj Patil was standing in the hallway with Mrs. Creevey.

Astoria moved to the woman's side. She seemed surprised by the young woman's presence but didn't comment on it. Harry kept his distance and waited. Once Healer Patil was done Mrs. Creevey brought Astoria into the room. Harry followed and stood near the doorway as he watched two other Healers standing over Dennis as they constantly cast diagnostic charms. Astoria sat in the chair near the bed, took Dennis's hand, and waited.

Two hours later Claire Greengrass poked her head in and asked if she could talk to Harry for a moment. Harry agreed without question only to find it had merely been a ruse to fetch lunch for Astoria and Mrs. Creevey. She'd assumed that if asked both would insist they weren't hungry. She loaded Harry up with plates of food from the cafeteria and made him bring them back upstairs.

The women in the room insisted they weren't hungry. But all of the food disappeared, so he took that claim with a grain of salt. About an hour after that Astoria gasped and her eyes shot to her hand. Harry's eyes shot to Dennis Creevey on the bed.

Dennis's eyes fluttered and Mrs. Creevey gasped. Astoria squeezed his hand and then the boy's eyes opened. He blinked at Astoria, then opened his mouth. But only a raspy gasp came out.

"Healer!" Astoria yelled. Harry rushed from the room, looking for the first person in lime he could find.

Harry stayed for most of the evening. He lost track of time as the day pressed on. It wasn't until around six in the evening, when Claire Greengrass showed up with dinner, that he realized he should probably return home.

Daphne was sitting in the study, her books spread out around her as she worked on some homework. A plate of half-touched food sat next to her books. Harry apologized for being late and she looked at him, confused.

He wasn't late. He was helping at the hospital, in whatever form that took. She'd grown up with it. Sometimes things there took precedence. She understood that more than most. And it wasn't even like they had plans anyway.

After that she asked how Dennis was doing. Harry told her what he knew. They were worried about his chest, breathing seemed hard for him and he seemed in pain most of the time. He'd barely regained his voice after quite a few potions. But they thought he'd survive. Even if they couldn't tell how long it would take to recover.

They ate together, she finished her work, and they spent the rest of the evening in. Daphne speculated that Astoria was feeling a bit lonely at home with her parents working so much and that she might try to spend more time with them.

But in the coming days Astoria spent almost every waking moment she could at St. Mungo's. She did crash at Grimmauld place a couple of times, when Harry got the feeling that her parents were chastising her for spending too much time intruding on the Creeveys.

Autumn faded to winter, which in turn gave way to spring. Harry found his routine didn't change much. Christmas was a welcome change of pace. It was a rather different feel to be expected at the Greengrass's residence on Christmas morning with gifts.

He'd wanted to get them season tickets to Chelsea, but Daphne had said that was perhaps a little too excessive for their first Christmas together. So, he settled on expensive alcohol, which seemed more fitting.

To his chagrin, Astoria got him a Chelsea top and commented that if she ever saw him in something related to Manchester United, she'd hex him. He'd laughed and agreed. They'd spent most of the morning together before going over to the Weasley's for a party that evening.

The following months were harder, as the malaise set in more. He spent more and he found himself rather bored with life in general. Evenings and weekends were still great times filled with his friends, but his weekdays grew more tedious and felt more pointless with every passing moment.

He still had the morning runs with Astoria. But it felt odd to him to spend so much time looking forward to something with Daphne's sister. And, while she still stopped by most mornings, she was spending the majority of her time at the hospital with Dennis.

They'd kept the young Creevey boy there for about a month after he woke up. But it seemed like he was back in the hospital every few days for some type of test or treatment. Harry listened to Astoria talk about all of it and comforted her when she lamented that there was still residue of the curse in his lungs that they might never be rid of.

When they'd finally cleared him to go home, Astoria instead spent nearly every day traveling to his home to be with him while he recovered. Harry thought she was perhaps being a bit too obsessive but when Daphne broached the topic Astoria has spat that he'd saved her life it was the absolute least she could do.

Neither of them could think of much to counter that. Daphne took her aside without him though. They had a rather long conversation and when Harry asked him about it, she'd just said it was 'sister stuff' and that she just wanted to make sure Astoria wasn't doing anything she didn't want to out of some sort of twisted obligation.

When he was healthier, they'd talked her into a double date. They'd taken them to a nice restaurant in London. Dennis seemed rather nervous about the whole thing. But all-in-all it ended up being a rather pleasant night once they'd broken the ice.

It ended with a walk to the Leaky Cauldron and Harry buying a round from Hannah Abbott. A quick conversation led him to realize that her family owned a share of the pub and she was joining the family business.

He brought the drinks over to the table. Dennis looked a bit exhausted by the entire ordeal and Harry wondered if he should have suggested the walk to cap the evening. But he was smiling and seemed glad to be out of the house so he figured it was for the best.

At some point he saw Neville enter and sit at the bar. He hadn't seen his classmate since the end of the war. He knew he was working on some type of Herbology certificate with the hopes of replacing Professor Sprout in a few years but other than that he hadn't heard much about him.

He spent a few moments leaning against the bar and talking with Hannah when she pointed toward Harry in the corner. Neville turned and looked at them, beaming. He walked over toward the table.

"Hey Harry, Hey Daphne!" he said jovially.

"Hello Neville," Daphne responded. Neville looked at their group for a moment and then burst out.

"So I've been thinking of trying to start another Conjurations and Catacombs group," Neville started.

"Really?" Daphne said, sounding more excited than Harry thought was necessary.

"Yeah. Hannah thought it might be fun," Neville started.

"Just Hannah?" Harry teased.

"And I figured maybe one night a week might be a nice break," Neville finished.

"I'd love to play again," Daphne said.

"I guess I'm in then," Harry added with a smile.

"I always wanted to try that," Dennis said.

"Really?" Astoria blinked as if she'd have never expected that.

"Yeah. It seemed fun," Dennis shrugged.

"It is," Daphne said.

And so Harry found himself once again playing a dice game in his free time. It was rarely more than one night a week. And the night often shifted based around how Dennis was feeling and how busy Daphne was with her classes.

But it filled the time until the summer. And once the summer came, things were better for Harry. Daphne ended up only having classes on Mondays and Tuesdays during the summer break. Which meant she and Harry could spend a great deal more time together out and about than before.

It started fairly basic. They'd walk around London, go to a museum, a gallery, lunch or anything. But eventually they grew more adventurous. Weekend trips to France, Spain, Italy, anywhere they felt like going dominated their schedule. It was rather blissful. Not the least of which because most of the destinations involved Daphne in a bikini.

They had one last hurrah before September came. It was a rather spur of the moment decision. Harry found himself pondering just what he was going to do when her classes resumed in earnest one August afternoon while Daphne was out shopping with her sister.

He knew Astoria had a date with Dennis that evening. It was going to be the last one they'd have for a while as Dennis was returning to Hogwarts that fall. Harry thought Astoria might join him. But when her parents broached the subject, she'd shot it down immediately. She wasn't even sure if she'd bother taking any of the NEWT exams, which made her parents nearly choke on dessert at the family dinner she'd announced it at. But she wouldn't give any indication of what she planned on doing, no matter how much they needled her.

Still, Harry wondered if she'd wind up as bored as he was. They didn't see a whole lot of her during the summer, outside of their weekly sessions with Neville. She wasn't quite as interested in the games as her sister, or even Dennis, but she seemed to enjoy the sessions at least as much as Harry did.

He was still pondering that thought when peering through the Black family library. It was an intriguing room, filled with all sorts of fascinating books. Not that he bothered to read anything more than a few pages of them.

He heard the girls return from shopping. He didn't bother to go meet them, as he figured if they needed him, they'd let him know. About fifteen minutes later Daphne walked into the library.

"We should go out tonight," she said.

"Alright," Harry responded, snapping shut a book about rather repulsive home defense charms. He wasn't sure if he was more disgusted at the fact that the charms existed, or that he saw merit in them for protecting his family.

"And maybe get a hotel," Daphne said, letting her voice trail off.

"Why?" Harry asked. It felt odd to him that she'd want to get a hotel room in London in short notice.

"Because after what Astoria insisted on shopping for today, I really don't want to be in the same house as her tonight," Daphne said.

"Ah," Harry blinked. "Should we…let them?"

"They're going to do it anyway," Daphne shrugged.

"That isn't a yes," Harry said.

"Honestly, I'd prefer to not think about my sister having sex," Daphne said. "She asked enough awkward questions already tonight."

"Fair enough," Harry said. "Thai?"

"Eh."

"Indian?"

"Eh."

"Suggestions?"

"A really greasy fish and chips," Daphne said.

"Well, let's get ready and wander until we find a pub?"

"Sounds like a date," Daphne smiled and walked with him up to their shared bedroom to prepare for the evening.

They didn't tell Astoria where they were going, or what their plans were. But they did tell her to have a good time on her date. Daphne teased her quite a bit about it, until Astoria was flushed so crimson that she could have passed for a tomato.

Their night was pleasant. They went into Westminster and found a swanky hotel first before venturing out for a night on the town. It was an evening that Harry only remembered flashes of when it was over. Including being pretty positive that they hadn't found what Daphne had been looking for, but that they hadn't been disappointed with the meal. The general hangover and glazed look on Daphne's face when they struggled to be out of bed by checkout time was enough to tell him it must have been fun.

Astoria was in the kitchen when they arrived back at Grimmauld Place. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that fell to her knees and was scrambling eggs.

"You're cooking?" Daphne said as they entered. Astoria blushed and looked down at the food.

"The elves don't come when I call," she countered.

"Well, you don't own the house," Daphne said.

"Neither do you," Astoria said.

"Good point. Lottie I could really use a cappuccino," Daphne said. One appeared on the counter moments later. She picked it up and sipped from it. Astoria glared at her.

"You're burning the sausages," Harry said, moving over toward the pan and rectifying that.

"Oh crap," Astoria tried to move him out of the way, but it didn't work. Instead, he pushed her toward her sister and took over. Much to Astoria's annoyance he gave the first plate of eggs and sausage to Daphne. Well, after stealing one of the sausages for himself.

"So how was your night?" he asked as he started on another, rather larger batch of scrambled eggs and sausages. Astoria blushed and looked away from him.

"It was fine," she said in a small voice.

"Just fine?" Daphne teased, peering over her cappuccino.

"Oh, shut up," Astoria said.

"Just as long as you remembered the potion," Daphne said. Astoria blushed more but nodded.

"I took it in the afternoon. I'm not an idiot," she mumbled.

"Good. Don't think Harry and I are going to disappear every time you want to shag your boyfriend," Daphne said.

"Oh, uhm, hi," Dennis Creevey said from the entrance to the kitchen. Harry piled the eggs onto a plate and summoned a serving dish for the sausages before looking over at the shorter man. He wore flannel pants and a white t-shirt.

"Good morning, Dennis," Harry said as he moved the plates over to the counter. He served himself some food before sliding the platter toward Astoria. She and Dennis were both too nervous to move so Harry served them, summoned some tea form Lottie, and ate his breakfast.

The ice broke eventually when Dennis brought up Conjurations and Catacombs and they spent the rest of breakfast talking about the campaigns. But when they'd finished, Harry decided his headache was too annoying to bother with so he excused himself. Daphne joined him for the nap after casting a sound-proofing charm so as they wouldn't have to hear whatever Dennis and Astoria decided to do on one of their last days together before he returned to Hogwarts.

---

Harry watched as a terrible pass from the White Six sailed directly to the Yellow Ten, rather than the open Eight or Ten. She dribbled around one of the white strikers and passed through the midfield.

Another Yellow jersey was in perfect position for it and managed to spear between the White defense with her teammates running right with her. The Yellow player rushed forward and shot a quick pass to the left after the defense committed.

Harry winced as he saw their offense had worked to perfection. The entire White team, including their goalkeeper, were pulled off to the right as the ball sailed to the open striker on the right wing.

It felt like there was a collective inhale as the entire stadium saw what was about to happen. For a moment, it was almost silent. Harry could feel the anticipation from half of the crowd as they grew ready to erupt with each passing moment, and the fear from the other half, who could sense the oncoming need to hang their heads in disappointment.

The Yellow Nine striker shot up the pitch and lined up her shot as the White keeper did her best to try to get an angle on what would so soon become an oncoming shot. The Yellow player drew her leg back and shot the ball toward the goal.

Moments later the White Eight slid through her. She got enough of her studs onto the ball that it wobbled off track and sailed clear of the goal.

"Yes!" the man to Harry's right screamed as half the stadium cheered. The eight shot up to her feet as her teammates swarmed her, clasping her back and celebrating for the briefest of moments before the Yellow team managed to inbound the ball.

Eight intercepted it and relayed it to Four. Harry's attention flashed up to the clock and then back to the pitch as the White jerseys relayed the ball around, Four to Two, to Six, to Eight to Ten. They'd just crossed the center of the pitch when the whistle sounded. A collective sigh rang through the stadium as they reached full time at nil-nil.

"Wow," Harry sighed as he collapsed back into his seat.

"I think I'm going to be sick," his wife said. She hadn't let go of his hand for the entire second half and he was half wondering if the blood would ever flow back into it.

"Should we go to the restroom?" her mother asked.

"I'm fine," his wife said. Harry had the feeling that even if she wasn't, there wasn't much that would get her out of her seat in that moment.

"She's amazing," the Cameraman said, his eyes utterly enamored with the White Eight as she paced around the pitch waiting for extra time to start.

"She's played her heart out," Harry agreed.

"I still can't believe she caught up for that tackle at the start of the half," the Cameraman said.

"Or the one at the end of the half," Harry's wife added.

"That too," the Cameraman added.

"I'm so proud of her," his wife's father said.

"I'm nervous," his wife added. A murmur of agreement ran through their little group as extra time began.

---

Autumn did see the return of the malaise. By October Harry found himself almost insufferable. Which was a problem because if he couldn't stand himself then how could he expect anyone else to?

It didn't help that their games were on hiatus while Dennis was at school. They joked about meeting him in Hogsmeade one weekend but it seemed like a bit of an imposition to Astoria to monopolize the time they spent with her boyfriend.

He saw less of her as well. She still came over for a morning run most days. Harry half expected that Daphne was making her as to ease his boredom. But after that she'd disappear for the rest of the day. Lessons he assumed, or something. He debated following her to see just what she did. But that also felt like something that he shouldn't do.

He spent most of his time in Diagon Alley doing whatever he felt like. Which was often nothing. Every now and again he ran into a former classmate or something of that nature. But they were always busy moving from one thing to another so they never had a whole lot of time to stop and chat.

Eventually, though, he betrayed himself. He was wandering around the neighborhood to kill time when he saw her walking away from him. She had a blue backpack with three white stripes down the side slung over her shoulder. Matching boots, tied together by the laces, hung from the pack as she weaved through the pedestrians.

Harry followed her. He had nothing better to do and he was curious. Part of him knew that Daphne would like to know as well, so it didn't seem like that much of an invasion of privacy to chase after her.

He followed her until she arrived at a park. She moved to a bench and sat at it, changing her shoes and tucking her regular trainers into the backpack before placing it near a few other packs. She stood, stretched for a moment, and then jogged forward and joined into what appeared to be pickup football game.

Harry moved to an empty bench where he could see all of the action and watched. The girls she played with all looked older than her. Harry would have guessed they were university students. But she ran around them effortlessly, her smile lighting up whenever she made a move, broke through their lines and took a shot on goal. They played for a couple of hours before they'd had enough. Astoria noticed him when she flipped the ball into the air, caught it, and tossed it to one of the girls that was gesturing for it.

"Did you follow me?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Although it was more coincidental than anything."

"Sure it was," Astoria scowled.

"It was," Harry said.

"Daphne's been asking me about where I go for weeks. Probably because mother is asking her," Astoria countered.

"Well, I'm not here on anyone's orders. And if you don't want them to know I won't tell them. But…" Harry let his voice trail off.

"But what?" Astoria asked.

"You're really good. I'm not sure why you want to keep it a secret," Harry said.

"You're a talent scout now?" Astoria countered.

"No. But you're better than all of them," Harry said, gesturing to the field where they'd been playing.

"So?" she asked.

"So nothing," Harry shrugged. "Are you going to be late for lessons or would you like to go grab something to eat?"

"I could eat," Astoria responded, skeptically. They found a vendor selling sandwiches and made their way back to the park to eat, sitting on the same bench where he'd sat minutes before.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked.

"Over a year," Astoria shrugged. "Found them when I was out on a run one day. Always loved playing."

"Daphne said she played a bit when she was younger but that you were always better," Harry said.

"I'm surprised she admitted that aloud," Astoria said.

"She seemed fairly proud of it, to be honest," Harry commented. Astoria looked away and took a bite of her lunch.

"I have a tryout," she said, quietly.

"With who?" Harry asked.

"Chelsea Ladies," Astoria said.

"Your mother will be thrilled," Harry responded.

"Footballer isn't quite as prestigious as Healer," Astoria said.

"Some would argue it's more so. I'm sure they'd be incredibly proud of you," Harry said. "I am."

"You don't count," she said.

"Ouch."

"Well, you don't."

"I think you should tell your parents at least," Harry said.

"And now you're going to guilt me into it?" Astoria asked.

"No. But I think you'll feel better if you tell them," Harry said.

"I'm probably too young anyway. But they wanted to take a look and maybe if it goes well, I'll let them know," Astoria said.

"I think you'll do great," Harry added.

When she came over absurdly early two weeks later she hugged Harry immediately upon entry into the room. And then she started crying. Harry feared the worst. Which was compounded when Daphne came downstairs to see her sister clinging to him.

But when she'd recovered enough to speak, she told them that she'd made it. They thought she was probably a couple years away from playing but they wanted to develop her in their system.

When she'd told her parents they'd been less surprised than she'd expected. Apparently, she hadn't done a very good job of hiding the boots or the extra athletic clothing she'd bought with their money. Still, they'd been proud of her and told her if that was what she wanted to pursue they would support her. As long as she finished her tutoring and took her tests as well.

Astoria complained about that, but Harry suspected she would have found something to complain about regardless. After she'd finished telling them she asked to use their floo to go to Hogsmeade so she could go find Dennis and tell him at school. Harry figured it probably wasn't that great of an idea as visitors during the year weren't common. But he and Daphne let her go anyway.

She came back around midnight rather giggly and happy and crashed in one of the spare bedrooms. Both of them figured it was in their best interest to not ask exactly what she'd gotten up to at Hogwarts.

He did see far less of her in the coming weeks. And when she was around, pretty much all she managed to talk about was football. Harry didn't mind, as her enthusiasm was infectious, but it was still a bit repetitive.

It wasn't until spring, coincidentally the night after Astoria's seventeenth birthday party, that Daphne called him on his moods. He hadn't thought he'd shown it too much. But he supposed he'd been wrong. They were cuddled up in bed, his hand tracing gentle circles over her bare back when she spoke.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

"What?" he blinked, feeling his stomach rise up into his throat.

"Are you happy?" she asked again.

"Yes," he answered. Unsure of what else he could possibly say. It was the truth. "Are you not?"

"I am," she said with a sigh that made him doubt her words. "It's just…"

"What?"

"You don't seem happy," she said.

"I'm happy," Harry said.

"Are you though? I mean you don't, well, do anything. Even Kreacher is concerned. He says you sulk most of the days. And honestly, I see how happy you are when I get home. And how your face lights up. And it's just not the look of someone who was happy for most of the day."

"I'm happy," Harry said, weakly. His hands had stopped moving over her skin. "And it's not like I don't see my friends. I went out with Dean and Ron the other night."

"I know. But you don't do anything during the day," Daphne said.

"Well, it's not like I need a job. And that went poorly last time I tried," Harry responded, defensively. Daphne's body stiffened against his.

"I'm not saying you do," she said. "But a hobby or something could be a welcome change of pace. I worry about you alone all day."

"I'm fine," Harry said.

"I know you think that," Daphne said. "But I'm not sure it's true. Just promise me you'll think about it."

"I will," Harry said. He frowned and added. "Actually…"

"What?"

"Nimbus asked if I wanted to come to a tour of their new workshop and the unveiling of their new broom next week. I wasn't going to go," Harry said.

"You should," she said.

"I think I will. I always liked brooms maybe I should do something there," Harry said.

"I think that's a great idea," Daphne said.

"Anything else you want to talk about or is it time to sleep?" Harry asked.

"We should talk about our future," Daphne said. "But it's probably not the best time."

"Why not?"

"Honestly? Because when I imagined the conversation I had clothes on," Daphne said.

"I can fix that."

"I can only imagine what you'd put me in if given the opportunity."

"Nothing you haven't worn before."

"That's not comforting."

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked. "I won't be able to sleep now, I'll just worry."

"Do you plan on marrying me?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he answered instantly. He paused though, frowning to himself. "Should I have proposed already? I got the impression you wanted to focus more on getting through the Healer course than worry about things like a wedding."

"I do," she said. "But…"

"What?"

"I wouldn't say no to a ring. Even if we didn't rush forward with the wedding aspect of it," Daphne said. She paused for a minute and added. "But I don't expect you to rush out and get one or anything right away. It's just…you know."

"I know," Harry said. But he'd already added ring shopping to his list of activities he could do during the day. He thought of inviting Astoria with him as she'd likely be willing to tell him if the rings, he liked the most were absurd. And he'd have to make sure it looked nothing like the stupid one Nott had given her. He frowned as his he thought of Nott.

"The other big thing we haven't talked about is children," Daphne said.

"We're a bit young, don't you think?" Harry tried to tease.

"Yes," Daphne said. "But it's still something we should be on the same page about if we want them."

"Do you?" Harry asked.

"You first," Daphne said. Harry paused and nodded.

"Yes," he said.

"How many?"

"I don't know. At least two. I think something like you and your sister have is better than being an only child," Harry said.

"I see."

"And you?"

"If I'm honest I find the thought of pregnancy to be sort of gross. But I do want to start a family at some point," Daphne said.

"We could always adopt," Harry shrugged.

"That's not the response I expected," Daphne said.

"I love you, Daphne. I'm not going to try to talk you into something you don't want to do," Harry said. "And I know your career is important to you."

"I love you too," she said. She made a face before continuing. "So much that in a few years I'll probably stop taking the potion."

"Only if you're sure," Harry said.

"I will be. But it's time to sleep now," Daphne said. She snuggled close to him and closed her eyes. He held her before they both fell asleep.

The broom idea worked for a few months. At first, Nimbus was thrilled to have him. They taught him every aspect of broom crafting. It was entertaining and he enjoyed every minute of it. The practical tests of the brooms, especially the new models, were far and away his favorite parts.

But the minutia of it grew a bit trying. He didn't care all that much about how many bristles were the correct amount for proper aerodynamics, or how many millimeters those bristles should be. It all grew a bit trying to him.

It gave him something to do though. And it gave him knowledge he didn't have before. He created a workshop in a spare room at Grimmauld Place and started working on some of his own brooms with the knowledge he'd learned. He enjoyed the work of it more than the precision that was required at Nimbus.

The endeavors occupied his time though. It didn't particularly matter to him that he knew he'd never make a broom even on par as the ones he could buy, or even the ones he'd owned. But that didn't matter to him. He enjoyed working on it.

Summer brought the return of Dennis and Astoria to their games and a welcome return to their fantasy worlds. The group enjoyed their outings. Although Neville and Daphne seemed to enjoy it more than most everyone else.

Mid-Summer he asked Astoria if she could spare an afternoon to accompany him on an errand or two. She was skeptical, or pretended to be, until he'd agreed to do a favor for her in return for the favor for him.

It took them six hours to pick out the ring. But they finally settled on a round diamond in a white gold band with smaller diamonds flanking the main one along the band. Astoria insisted it would be perfect for her sister and Harry thought it was rather lovely and shiny, but that was about all he could say for sure. He thought it looked like Daphne's style, but that was about all he could say about it without feeling like an idiot. He paid for the ring and thanked Astoria for her time.

He'd find out less than a week later that the favor was allowing her full usage of Grimmauld Place the next time that he took Daphne on a vacation. Harry tried to tease her about why she would ask for that but she'd just crossed her arms over her chest and told him without any hesitation that she wanted to shag her boyfriend senseless without any risk of being interrupted and he should make sure his vacation was at least a week.

He spent a few weeks in his workshop working on the second phase of his plan. He finished it quicker than he would have thought with his limited experience, but when it was complete, he moved on.

Phase three was the easiest. It involved a lovely villa in Tuscany, a place Daphne had enjoyed immensely upon their first trip there, and a large deposit to secure the dates he wanted come that fall. And then, once all that was set, telling Daphne when to make sure she had no classes or excess work due.

Phase four involved coordinating with Neville. The other man was rather amused by Harry's idea and had no problem acting upon it. They even got Hannah in on the act. It was all very easy.

They met for their usual game the day before Harry and Daphne would take their extended trip to Tuscany. They were exploring a rolling countryside rather similar to that of Northern Italy and their adventure took them into a haunted villa. They released the curse and Neville spent a few minutes describing the treasures they would have access too.

He ended with a rather rousing description of a small, ornate chest that appeared out of nowhere once the curse was lifted. It rested on an end table nearest to Daphne's Siren and right before Daphne moved to open it, Hannah yawned and Neville decided that it was perhaps best to call it a night.

Daphne, Astoria and Dennis argued. What would it be to just distribute the loot and call it a day! But Harry sided with Hannah and Neville and the game ended for the evening. Daphne muttered about how she'd be too distracted thinking of the loot to think of much else for the next week while they walked home.

When they arrived at the rented villa the next evening she looked around and shook her head a bit as if confused.

"Déjà vu," she laughed. "We'll have to tell Neville how good he was at describing things."

"It's uncanny," Harry smiled as he led her to the bedroom to drop off their bags. Daphne followed him in and her eyes instantly shot to the end table, where the small ornate chest that Harry spent a couple of weeks crafting sat on prime display.

"What?" she laughed, walking over toward it and examining it. She picked up the small chest and looked over at Harry. He shrugged his shoulders and moved behind her while she turned her attention toward the chest.

She opened it, gasped, and spun around to face him, her hands rising to cover her mouth.

He was already on his knee before her. He smiled up at her and asked The Question.

"Will you marry me, Daphne?"

"Yes!" she yelled into her hands. The rest of it happened so fast he wasn't quite sure if the ring wound up on her finger before the rest of their clothing vanished or not. In the end, he was rather glad he'd moved back their dinner reservation without telling her.

They were engaged for almost exactly one year. After much debate, the decided on a wedding at the same Tuscan villa where he'd proposed. It was a smaller affair than either of them expected it to be at first. Although Harry had a hard time thinking of the sixty or so guests as a small affair. But they'd cut it down to friends and family and Harry had pointedly 'lost' the letter from Slughorn asking for an invitation. Astoria and Tracey Davis served as bridesmaids and Ron and Neville served as groomsmen. Hannah Abbott caught the bouquet.

They took a tour through all of Italy and Greece for the Honeymoon and to celebrate Daphne's accreditation as a Healer. She would need a few more classes to add the Muggle portion to her resume but she planned on keeping at it so they returned to England just before those classes would resume in September while she also started working part time at the hospital with her parents.

Astoria rose through the system and at eighteen was playing in matches for the Chelsea Ladies. Harry bought season tickets as soon as he could. Harry, Daphne, and the Greengrass family attended as many of the games as was possible. The more chances she got, the more productive she seemed to be. It wasn't long before she became a staple in the midfield and England came looking.

His malaise at the broom work returned as soon as he got back to it. Nimbus seemed to understand that his work was suboptimal and disinterested, but didn't want to have the publicity of firing Harry Potter, so they shifted him into a more public relations and advertising role. Which he hated even more.

The final domino dropped toward the beginning of spring the following year. Neville and Hannah invited them over for dinner. At first Daphne had assumed it was for a game. But Neville said there was something he wanted to talk to them about and hoped it could just be the two of them.

Hannah cooked and they beat around the topic through the meal. It wasn't until Neville served digestifs that they broached the subject. Harry took a drink of the liquor only to be surprised by the notes of caramel, coffee, and oak.

"Damn," he said, swirling the liquor in the glass. "That's good."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Neville said.

"Oh?" Harry asked.

"It comes from the Fairless Glenn distillery. It's good but not great," Neville started.

"I think it's pretty great," Harry said.

"It could be better," Neville said. "And the distillery is going up for sale."

"And?"

"Neville wants to buy a share of it but we can't afford enough of it to make a difference," Hannah said. "And the Goblins interest rates are stupid."

"How much?" Harry asked and Neville told him. After hearing the number Neville paused and added.

"Which would give me about fifteen percent. Probably not enough to make huge changes right away, but it would give me some say. But I've been working at it and I think I can make a much better line of products than they have. Their base is good but…"

"I see," Harry said. He took another sip of the drink, running numbers in his head.

"It would entirely be a loan. We'd pay you back," Hannah said. Harry paused more. He looked at Daphne whose gaze was focused on him. Her expression unreadable. A quote from Hamlet rang through his head. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"No," he said. Neville's face fell. But before he could comment Harry continued. "I have a better idea."

"What?" Neville asked.

"Partners," he said. "I'll buy the thing outright. You can buy pieces back from me until it's fifty-fifty."

"You want to get into the liquor business?" Neville asked.

"No idea," Harry said. "Worst case, well, I'm fairly good at marketing and being a public face of things. But it's something I know little about and think it could be interesting to learn. You seem to have the knowledge base. If I hate it I'll bow out and you can buy the whole thing from me down the line."

"I don't know what to say," Neville said, looking stunned.

"A yes would be good," Hannah added.

"Let's do it," Neville said.

"We will need to think of a better name though," Harry said.

"How about the Longpot Distillery?"

"That's terrible," Harry laughed. But a few days later Harry Potter bought a magical distillery in Speyside. There was a great deal of press when he first toured the facilities with Neville.

He felt that he was in over his head. And that the entire endeavor was a stupid waste of money. And that when it failed, he'd be made fun of for it. He wondered if he was squandering the Black fortune.

He needn't have worried.

Neville's enthusiasm and knowledge was infectious. Harry found himself far more interested in the business than he'd ever been with the brooms. He tried to learn every aspect of it as quickly as he could. And when they poured the first glasses of their first bottle with Hannah and Daphne and sipped from it, they knew they'd created something worth being proud of.

The first run sold out almost instantly. Which they'd expected given that it had Harry Potter's name on it. What they hadn't expected was the sheer demand for the second, third, and fourth runs. They couldn't keep up, no matter what they priced the bottles at. It only took Neville a couple more years to pay off his half. But it took Harry far less time than that to find work he enjoyed.

He almost hated admitting to Daphne that she was right. Although he quickly learned that his wife being correct happened more often than not, even when she was wrong. Still, he willingly confessed to her that having a purpose he cared about made everything that much better. She'd kissed him and told him she was glad he'd found it. She'd paused and added that seeing him so happy with himself and her made her realize that she was ready for their next step, whenever he was.

---

Harry clung to his wife's hand as extra time ended without much fanfare. Both the yellows and the whites had played rather passively during the added time and there hadn't been so much as a single shot on goal during the half hour.

Despite that, he could feel his heartbeat in his chest as he watched game unfold before him. The whistle signaling the end of extra time didn't bring any relief to his blood pressure. He collapsed back into his seat as the players returned to their managers.

Both sides formed a circle and Harry wondered just what the speech was in each of the huddles. He missed playing competitively. Part of him wished he'd have spent more time focused on Quidditch both during his school years and after.

A small voice in his head told him he'd never know if he was actually good enough to play professionally. Or if he'd just been an above average talent in school, never meant for much more. It bothered him to a minor degree. But a much larger part told him he was being stupid and he'd found a life far better than any sport could give him.

The Yellows and Whites broke their huddles and moved toward the center of the pitch, standing in line. The White Ten and the Yellow Four, both wearing armbands denoting their position on their teams met with the referee to decide on the order.

Harry watched the coin fly into the air and when it landed it was decided that Yellow would kick first. He wasn't sure what to make of that. Part of him thought he'd rather have the chance to win. Another part wondered about performing with the pressure of knowing that if you missed, it was all over.

The crowd rose to their feet as the first Yellow striker approached. The White Keeper bounced on her feet, waving her arms, as the Yellow Ten lined up and shot. The ball and the keeper went right. A hand rose up. Harry saw the fingers bend backward but despite the effort, the ball hit the back of the net.

He cursed to himself and watched as the White Ten lined up for her own shot. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until the keeper dived the wrong way and the ball hit the net unimpeded.

The teams matched each other for the first four rounds. In the fifth round the Yellow captain lined up the ball and lifted her head proudly. She stared down the keeper. Her eyes shot right as she ran up to the ball. The White Keeper dived to her right and the ball sailed left. But it started to curve more than it should have.

Harry knew he couldn't hear the thunk of the impact over the din of the crowd, but he imagined he could. Even through his own screaming as the ball ricocheted off the post and landed harmlessly away from the goal.

The crowd was still screaming as the White Eight placed the ball down and lined up for her shot. She stepped back from it, her eyes closing for a moment as she bounced nervously on the balls of her feet.

Next to him, Daphne Potter bounced in time with her. As did Claire Greengrass to her left. It was, Harry chuckled to himself, the nerves of the situation momentarily forgotten, a trait that ran in the family.

Astoria Greengrass took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She ran up to take her shot. Her foot impacted on the ball and three things happened in almost instantaneous succession.

The keeper went left.

The ball went right.

The stadium exploded.

Her team swarmed her. Harry screamed. Daphne screamed. Everyone in the stadium screamed. A mass of white jerseys bounced up and down on the pitch, hugging, laughing, yelling together as one.

The yellow shirts watched for a few minutes before moving away and toward their own bench and back to the lockers as the white team continued to celebrate. It felt like it could have only been moments before Astoria broke away from her team and ran toward the crowd.

Somehow in the scrum she'd lost her right boot. It was being carried around by her teammates, held up high like one of the most valuable possessions they'd ever touched. Astoria didn't seem to mind or let it slow her as she ran toward her family.

She didn't approach Nathan, Claire or Daphne. She didn't even approach Harry. Instead, she ran to the man sitting to his right. She was beaming, her eyes bright, her smile wide. She took no time to rest, a hundred and twenty minutes of football wouldn't slow her in that moment. Her eyes met his and uttered two words.

"Marry me?" Astoria Greengrass asked. The man to his side looked stunned. He blinked a few times and then his lips curved upwards and he shook his head in disbelief before he could speak.

"Gladly," Dennis Creevey said.

---

A little over a week later Harry held the door open for Daphne as they entered the Leaky Cauldron. The Wednesday evening crowd was rather sparse and Hannah was chatting with another barman as the entered.

"Harry, Daphne!" she smiled. "Neville is already setting up in the private room. There's a bunch of food in there already, too."

"Great," Harry said. Hannah's cooking wasn't quite on par with Kreacher or Lottie's but it was still enjoyable.

"Want your usuals?" she asked. She'd already reached for a bottle of red wine.

"No. Just a butterbeer for me," Daphne said. Hannah nodded and dropped her hand from the bottle. She paused for a moment and looked at Daphne.

"Wait…are you?" she asked. Daphne nodded curtly and before Hannah could explode in congratulations brought her finger up to her lips.

"But not telling anyone yet. Astoria deserves to be the center of attention for a while. I'll announce next week after I tell my parents this weekend," Daphne said. Hannah nodded.

"Well, congratulations anyway," Hannah said, levitating a Butterbeer over to Daphne.

She walked with them into the private room that Neville had transformed into, well, a catacomb for their games. They took their usual places at the table and waited. Harry ate some chips and some fried fish to pass the time while he and Neville were scolded for talking shop immediately after leaving work.

Twenty minutes later Dennis and Astoria walked into the room.

"Sorry we're late," Dennis said, looking rather exasperated, but Astoria was absolutely beaming. Harry suspected she would be for quite some time. "We were stopped about fifteen times on the walk in."

"Oh, it's fine. She's everywhere. What's it like having your face plastered all over Piccadilly?" Daphne asked, needling her now-famous sister.

"Pretty weird," Astoria admitted with a wry smile. "I've never watched myself take a penalty so many times."

"Did you bring it?" Hannah gushed. Astoria nodded and reached into her purse. She pulled out a golden medallion with winged Victory embossed on to it. She offered it to Hannah, who took it and gushed over it for a good fifteen minutes before it was passed around the group.

In the end, they insisted, mostly to embarrass her, that she wear it for the entire session. She blushed but put it on and their game commenced.

Harry couldn't help but peer around the table as he held Daphne's hand. It was odd, as he thought about it. While he'd known Neville since he was eleven, he'd gone out of his way to avoid working with him outside of herbology until the play.

And if not for the play he would have probably found the Creevey's to be annoying, starstruck children who fawned over him. And he would have certainly never done anything more with Daphne other than stare at her backside when she walked away from him in hallways. And without Daphne he'd have never even considered Astoria, or thought of making her dance with Dennis.

He wondered if Professor Burbage had anything like that in mind when she'd decided to restart a festival and have the students mingle and celebrate. He liked to think she did. That she knew her students would form lasting bonds as they worked together. There was just something fitting about that assumption.

The Professor would have liked it, he thought, that they'd bonded into a family of their own.

Of course, he thought wryly, maybe Sir Luckless simply had more luck than they'd all assumed. Or maybe the fountain's waters carried an enchantment after all.

---

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing I do appreciate all of the feedback I get. I am on PAT RE ON now at TE7writes if you'd like to support me there it is also appreciated. The rough copies of chapters 12 and 13 of Ithaca are currently live over there while I work on getting them more presentable for here.

Thanks again for reading and no, I'm not sure why I write 24k word epilogues to Daphne fics. It's a habit I should break if I write another one.