Merit & Inheritance
Chapter Thirty-one
Words Exchanged in Confidence
Harry did exactly what Daphne advised that he do. His business interests occupied a good part of his time. To keep things going, Harry began each day with the elves at Potter Manor, working through his list. At what became known as The Morning Meeting, Harry reviewed his to-do list with Kreacher, Mort and Daisy, and the gardening elves, generally in the breakfast room. Once all had their tasks for the day, Harry would return to his office in the mews and look at paper, study invoices, confirm receipts and deal with any incoming correspondence. His organization was small enough and worked smoothly enough that there were very few crises that couldn't be resolved with a short meeting or a note on parchment.
Three weeks after their mutual quasi-proposal at the offices of Harry Potter and Associates, Harry and Daphne held a small dinner for some longtime friends at Potter Manor. There were two very different phenomena to recognize. One was the installation of the portrait of Walburga, Sirius and Regulus Black in the dining room. The second was the engagement of Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy.
Walburga beamed down from her perch when Harry stood and recognized her and her lads. He spoke briefly of Walburga's place in contemporary magical history, graciously glossing over her allegiance to the Dark Magic/pureblood mania that nearly got Harry killed. He noted the number of families that had Black blood in their veins, including his own and that of one of the night's guests of honor, Draco Malfoy. Finishing up, Harry welcomed Walburga, Sirius and Regulus to Potter Manor, ending with a toast and three cheers for each of the Blacks.
"Well, I don't know how I'll follow that," said Daphne. "I'll just have to do my best."
She had a few words for Draco, mainly noting their time in Slytherin House at Hogwarts, but she devoted most of her toast to Astoria. Daphne's younger sister was the light of her life, she said. She could not remember a time when Astoria hadn't been right alongside, observing, assessing, and, yes, judging. Her comments had been early warnings that saved Daphne untold trials and tribulations. She credited Astoria for giving her the idea of becoming a healer. Astoria's encouragement had meant so much, Daphne said, before she had to take a little break and regain her composure.
"And so, Draco and Astoria, we wish you nothing but happiness as you start your adventure together," Daphne said. She'd wanted to go on, but she knew her emotions were about to win the battle with her self-discipline.
Walburga continued looking satisfied from the end of Daphne's toast through the dessert course. Kreacher was needed to serve coffee and tea in the salon so Fluff came over from Greengrass Manor for clearing the dining table and washing up. Daphne stayed behind with Fluff for a few minutes, watching and answering questions.
"You were brilliant, Daphne," said Walburga, out of the blue.
"Oh! Madam Walburga, I'd forgotten you are here with us," gasped Daphne. "Thank-you! That means a lot to me, that a witch with your experience would say that. I know I have a lot to learn."
"Oh, from what I saw tonight, I'd say you're there," countered Walburga. "There weren't very many witches who would have outshone you in my day, and I'd venture there are even fewer today. Are you going to tell me about that sapphire you've added to your right hand?"
"I can see it is going to be fun working together," laughed Daphne. "The sapphire was added by Harry, one night in the second drawing room at #12 Grimmauld Place. It belonged to Iolanthe Peverell, who married Hardwin Potter and together begat the line of wizards that led to Harry. Harry knew what he was doing, inviting you to Potter Manor."
"I want to agree, but it wouldn't do for me to start laying it on for him so soon," said Walburga. "We can keep it just between ourselves, being witches and all. See what you can learn about that ring, dear, I know it will be worth your time. Now, Potter has guests in the salon. Young Fluff there has everything in hand, it appears, so off with your noble and gracious self and I'll just nap until you need me again."
"Madam," Daphne said, nodding.
Astoria and Draco's dinner was the beginning of a partnership that Daphne and Walburga would cultivate with care, over many years. Walburga had gone to her grave skeptical that anyone with the surname Potter could become a wizard worthy of her notice. She wouldn't be making any dramatic adjustments. She was dead and not particularly flexible. Daphne knew, though, that she met Walburga's requirements much more closely than Harry did—witch, Slytherin, pureblood, manor-raised. With Walburga as her valued counselor they would collaborate to advance their lord's interests, which were ultimately the interests of the Potter, Black, Greengrass, Peverell, Slytherin and associated clans' interests manifested in the person and career of Harry James Potter, OM. Most of it they kept just between themselves, being witches and all.
Daphne didn't work on the tea shop project but she stayed current and contributed several suggestions. Pansy found no evidence showing London hosted a single magical tea shop. Some of the magical coffee shops offered tea, but those did not have the look, feel and ambiance Pansy had in mind. She went looking in Muggle London and discovered several dedicated shops with the atmosphere she'd been seeking.
"This is it," Pansy said.
She had dragooned Harry into a little exploratory expedition. The interior of the shop was small for a commercial space, not more than twenty feet by thirty, possibly less. There was a counter with three stools plus low tables before an L-shaped bench that ran around two sides of the room. A selection of teas were on shelves behind the counter. One wall had a painting, black ink on rice paper. Another held a framed print of a mountain with a quiet stream in the foreground.
"Japanese?" asked Harry as they sat down to await their tea.
"Excellent, Harry," said Pansy. "Have you been to Japan?"
"No, why?"
"Well, you recognized it as Japanese right away," said Pansy. "I thought you'd maybe gone, on your travels."
Harry just looked at her, at a loss for words. He was still pondering when a youngish man wearing jeans and a white shirt arrived with two pots of tea and two squat, round cups.
"Green," he said as he put the first pot down. He pointed at the second: "Green with the toasted brown rice."
"I see," said Harry. He didn't mean the tea, but the blond wooden knob that showed at the man's cuff. The server saw what Harry was looking at.
"Oh," he said. "It's therapeutic. Kind of a charm, from Mum's country."
Harry and Pansy, who had by this time also noticed the knob, looked back and forth.
"I've seen a few of those around London," Harry said. "Have you noticed? They must work."
"Have you tried one?" asked the young man. "My name is Julius, by the way."
"Harry, and this is Pansy," Harry said. "I have had occasion to use one."
Harry looked up as the street door opened.
"You have a customer, but we really should talk," said Harry. "We're not in a hurry, perhaps we'll be here when you're finished."
Julius left to take his customer's order. He puttered around behind the counter while the newcomer sat with his tea and read a book, returning to Harry and Pansy's table when it was again just the three of them.
"We're working on a project," Harry said. "We wanted to visit a proper tea shop because part of the idea incorporates a tea shop. There aren't any in our part of London."
He meant the magical part. Julius nodded.
The conversation went on, with breaks for Julius to get up and wait on customers. Julius told them how he had traveled to Japan, mainly for sightseeing and immersion in the Japanese language, and ended up working in a tea shop for several weeks. He had enjoyed it so much he returned to London and found a job doing the same. Julius had then worked in several jobs related to tea while saving up enough to start his own little tea room. By the time they had finished, Harry had given Julius a business card and invited him to come by the office. That chat ended with Julius signing on as a consultant with a contract to advise on the setting up and opening of Magical London's first magical tea emporium.
Pansy got the tea shop project underway then threw herself into organizing an auxiliary business to occupy the rest of the ground floor space in the new building. She had studied the neighboring coffee and book shops so she kept those inventories out of her thinking.
"I think the retail tea should stay in the tea room," she told Harry. "They kind of belong together."
"That works," said Harry. "Or so it seems to me."
"That leaves our other ideas," Pansy went on. "Unusual books and publications, small editions, travel, and some of the magazines that aren't on the mass market racks."
Harry pondered the meaning of 'mass market' as applied to witches and wizards, but didn't comment.
"There are also your 'Young Wizard's First Alchemy Set' and the children's books ideas," said Pansy.
"I like books," Harry said. He didn't tell Pansy, but he had not had a single book of his own until he went to Hogwarts. Despite his own remedial efforts, Harry knew he missed cultural references all the time due to not hearing the usual magical childhood stories as a youngster. Perhaps because of what he thought of as his deficient knowledge of the standard children's magical curriculum, Harry felt the magical legends, fables and fairy tales were crucial to the magical child's development.
"If we got the parents coming for tea, we could have a regular story time right there in the shop next door."
"That's a great idea," said Pansy. "We need to think about that some more."
Julius had his own affairs to manage. He got the tea shop organized and worked with the new employees for two days. The help was invaluable and the shop was a success from its opening. Harry took a lesson from his experience with Daphne and Cyrus and put carefully-crafted management controls in place. Harry didn't mind if the shop lost a little money, he just wanted to know how much. The important thing was they had an occupant in the space.
Pansy continued to work on the ideas for the remainder of the ground floor. Harry and Pansy decided together that they would operate the two parts as a single business. They organized the accounting to differentiate between tea and books. The tearoom side made a little money from its second month. Readers liked it for the quiet atmosphere. Serious students came in during school breaks, bringing textbooks, parchment and study partners. Older witches dominated in the late afternoon, their shopping done, stopping with friends for tea and conversation before heading home.
Pansy studied the sales figures for the retail side, teasing out the formula. Books and other publications for magical children predominated, while one-third of the gross was from the miscellany such as the magical travel magazines and gift items.
"You've done it," said Daphne.
Pansy looked across the table. A pot of green tea sat steeping between them.
"Oh, I don't know," Pansy replied. "I liked being in the office. Harry thinks he's launching me in some kind of magical business career. I get it. Don't get me wrong—I'm grateful he's taking an interest. It was just fun being down at Potter and Associate in the lane, there. Neville or Hannah might show up at any time, or some of the others."
"How do you like having your own location to manage?" asked Daphne
"I like it," said Pansy. "Everyone worked really hard getting it organized. We broke even the first week if you back out the initial investment. We met Julius. Everyone is very happy with the results."
"Morag?" asked Daphne.
"Claims it's her favorite place," Pansy answered. "Tea has become necessary to her relaxation after an arduous day of healing."
"Well, there are definitely a large variety of less-constructive methods one could use," said Daphne. "Just to make an observation."
The two looked at one another. Pansy had confided in Daphne about her own brush with substance abuse. Daphne knew Pansy was aware of Cordelia's problems.
"Uh-huh," Pansy said. "How is everyone at Greengrass Manor?"
Daphne shrugged.
"I'm still watching," she said.
Pansy moved opening and closing times up and back and finally settled on a ten to seven work day. By the end of the second week of the tea shop's existence, Morag was arranging to come by and collect Pansy at closing time, after which they would go out for dinner. They went to one of three places—Al-Andalus, the Dragon or the Leaky Cauldron.
Slowly, the two settled into a routine. They would get together for a meal, then, depending on the time, they might stretch the evening out a bit with a stop for coffee. Neither thought they were dating, each was simply the other's idea of agreeable company.
"That Romilda," said Morag one evening. She was holding her plate for Pansy, who was spooning couscous for both of them.
"What made you think of her?" Pansy asked.
"She came to the clinic," Morag responded. "She asked if I'd be interested in renting out Mother's place. Nothing wrong with the place she ended up, the village, she's just tired of looking at people. Looking for threats. She thinks she would be happier at Mother's."
Pansy finished with the couscous and held her own plate while Morag gave her some of the tajine.
"I could see that," Pansy said. "Although the paranoia would just increase for me, being there at Livia's. I'd think everyone I saw was a threat to me, because why would anyone have a reason to come all that way if they weren't?"
Morag looked across at Pansy.
"You're psychic. I asked that very thing," she said. "Romilda considered it for a minute then said she'd go away and think about it. I suppose I'll go along with her, if she comes back and says she's decided. My only concern would be the isolation. Where does she go if she has a medical emergency? I doubt she can send a patronus for help."
"That's a sad story," said Pansy. "No formal education after fifth year, yanked out of her social sphere and sent off to be the outsider in that strange family. You've studied a lot more psychology than me but it's not hard to see she's got some big gaps. Upstairs, I mean."
"And a baby on the way," said Morag. Both of them sat quietly, thinking over Romilda's situation.
"She'll need to find work, of some kind," Pansy noted.
"Sounds like it," Morag said. "Even if they'd take her I doubt she'd want anything to do with her parents."
"I don't know whether to laugh or scream," said Pansy. "How's she doing? Within your professional limitations, of course."
"Fine," said Morag, "I can say that much."
Pansy moved some couscous around on her plate.
"Hmm?" said Morag. "Something?"
"No, sorry to say," answered Pansy. "Putting myself in her place. I'm just drawing a complete blank for a way out for her."
"Uh-huh," Morag agreed. "Maybe you shouldn't try to worry every problem to death before it's too early to make a decision. In any case, Romilda is fine for now. I didn't pry into her personal circumstances, but I did listen carefully."
Pansy knew Morag meant she listened for what Romilda didn't say as well as what she did. Patients often had a hard time telling healers everything that was bothering them. Good healers became practiced at looking closely, listening carefully and using all their senses.
"For now," repeated Pansy. "But the situation bears watching."
"I think I can say that, within the bounds of propriety," said Morag.
Finished with dinner, they walked to their usual apparation point.
"Coffee? Decaf?" asked Morag, their shorthand for 'Want to stay up a little later?'
"Not tonight, love, I'm opening tomorrow," said Pansy.
The two hugged. Morag wanted a little longer hug, it seemed. Pansy didn't mind. She liked human contact.
"Night," said Morag when they did pull apart.
"Night."