Merit and Inheritance
Chapter Thirty-two
Duties of Lady Black
Once given a few tips by Harry and Neville, Daphne began turning the Greengrass holdings into a viable, profit-making business. The identification of the under-performing asset, the securing of a professional appraisal, and negotiations leading to successful sale, topped off by applying the equity from the building to Cyrus' outstanding debts, all combined to give Daphne a taste for more of the same. She developed a good mental map of the family's physical assets and was soon mixing and matching income streams, which were numerous, to get to an aggressive position vis-à-vis debt retirement.
Daphne scheduled monthly family progress meetings to keep Cyrus and Cordelia current. Cyrus found he had a conflict and missed the first, then became ill and took to bed for the second. Cordelia and Astoria sat down with Daphne and turned the briefing into a tea party for the Greengrass witches. The business was pretty simple, in Harry's term 'addition and subtraction,' so even a detailed, systematic review did not require a lot of time. That left the rest of the meeting for discussions of pre-wedding events, Astoria's actual wedding, and honeymoon plans.
Daphne noticed Cordelia was keeping a small glass of something close at hand, even as she enjoyed her tea. Cordelia noticed Daphne noticing.
"Cognac, dear, would you like a little?" Cordelia asked with a smile.
Perhaps Daphne frowned a bit or took longer to answer than Cordelia could accept.
"Cognac," Cordelia repeated. "It doesn't count, Daphne, there is barely enough alcohol to mention. If I'm going to be under inspection whenever you come to visit…"
"Mum," muttered Astoria, reaching out and covering Cordelia's hand.
Cordelia sighed.
"You're right, dear," she said. "I apologize for snapping, Daphne, we're taking up your personal time with this and I shouldn't act this way."
"I'm not interfering, Mother," Daphne said. "Help is available, if you want it."
Cordelia stared straight ahead. Daphne had been a healer long enough to read Cordelia. She knew her mother was struggling with her own program to control her intake. Daphne also knew forcing Cordelia into treatment while she continued to resist acknowledging her problem would not work.
Cordelia looked into Daphne's eyes and Daphne looked back.
"I'll let you know," she said.
"Fine," Daphne agreed.
Harry had tabled an offer to Narcissa to host some event for Draco and Astoria during their engagement. Little communications went back and forth, usually via Daphne and Astoria, as the principals considered a range of suitable activities and venues. These included a lawn party at Potter Manor, the same at Greengrass Manor, a dinner and a champagne brunch. Harry and Daphne reached an agreement between themselves for a lawn party at Potter Manor. This led to an invitation to Narcissa Malfoy, and Lucius as well, if he was interested, to tea.
Narcissa came with Draco, the two of them apparating to the front lawn.
"You picked a nice spot," Harry called from the front steps. "You'll get the full effect from there."
"This is quite the…" Draco began as he walked his mother to the house, getting just that far before discovering he had not given thought to picking a complimentary close.
"Pile," Harry finished. "From another era is one way to put it."
Draco looked befuddled but Narcissa caught Harry's meaning.
"Tastes change," she said as she presented her cheek for a kiss, then turned her head in expectation of another. Harry obliged.
"They do," Harry said as he shook Draco's hand. "This particular period has completely disappeared. Still, it's too much fun to knock down and rebuild. Come on in."
Harry had asked Kreacher to come along for the meeting with the Malfoys, so he was available to deliver his most gracious deep bow and growl out a welcome. Narcissa and Draco got out of their traveling cloaks and handed them to Kreacher.
"Ever been here, Mrs. Malfoy?" asked Harry.
"Mr. Potter?" said Narcissa.
"Harry, please," Harry said.
"Then it's Narcissa, isn't it? It's only fair," she responded.
"Ever been here, Narcissa?" asked Harry, backing up and trying again.
"When I was a girl, very young, but yes, I do remember this hall, through there was the big salon, the door there is the dining room? Yes, I see your table," said Narcissa.
"Well, why don't we tour and then Kreacher can treat us all to tea or coffee?" said Harry.
A 'pop' sounded out on the green, alerting all three to the arrival of another magical of some sort out front. Three hands automatically prepared to draw wands. Harry stood in front of the great front door as it opened. There was only one person besides Harry for whom the door would open automatically, and that was Daphne. Harry relaxed a little, saw Daphne and loosened his grip.
"I'm late, sorry," said Daphne. She still wore her St. Mungo's uniform top and trousers under her cloak.
"You're just in time, we were barely inside," Harry said.
The front door closed with a long, satisfied sigh, a full stop indicated by the loud click of the bolt as it slammed itself home. Everyone heard the door say to itself, "There," but no one wanted to admit it.
"Narcissa, Draco," said Daphne, rushing her greeting. "Sorry, got held up. I'll just…"
She made some wiggling finger motions toward the stairs and began to climb.
"Might as well wait for her, she won't be a minute," Harry said as he stepped over to the door to the salon. "Well, maybe a minute or two. Kreacher!"
The lamps, candles and sconces lit up when Harry stepped inside. He had advised the fireplace it was resting over the warm months unless he needed it for some special occasion. Harry got his guests seated just as Kreacher appeared.
"Pitcher of ice water and some hot towels for our travelers, please," Harry said. "We'll freshen them up after their journey."
Narcissa smiled her approval while Draco looked around at the portraits looking back at him.
"Know these people?" Harry asked the Malfoys.
"She looks familiar," said Narcissa to Harry before she turned to face Dorea. "You do, Madam."
"Oh, well, Harry, perhaps you should…," said Dorea.
"My great-grandmother, Dorea Black Potter," Harry said, waving toward Dorea's portrait in explanation. "Grandmother Dorea, may I present our cousin, Narcissa Black Malfoy, and her son, Draco Malfoy?"
"Oh…Aunt Dorea…we've never met, I…" stammered an embarrassed Narcissa.
"Yes, it's me," said Dorea. "The exile. Charlus' stolen property, among other things you might have heard."
"Aunt Dorea, Lord Black made a huge mistake, back then," said Narcissa. "I can tell already. It never was completely clear to me, were you formally banished or what? The old witches would just say, 'We don't talk about her,' then they'd shut their mouths."
"I'm not sure that has any relevance at present, Narcissa, since today's Lord Black assures me I am current in my dues and in good standing with him," said Dorea with a smile.
"So you are, Grandmother. Here, I'll take those," Harry said, holding out his hand for the towels. "Kreacher!"
"So, Draco," said Daphne as she came in from the hallway. She walked directly to Draco and traded kisses before stepping over to Narcissa. "Madam Malfoy."
Daphne took Narcissa's offered hand in both of hers, dropping into a deep curtsy and bringing the hand to her lips, holding the awkward position for a beat or two before rising and letting go.
"My dear," said Narcissa, reaching out to bring Daphne's head to herself for kisses, left, right, and left a second time. "Thank-you for receiving us in your home this afternoon."
"Oh, Harry—" was as far as Daphne got in her mild protest.
"Nonsense," said Narcissa. "Protocol be damned."
She kept hold of Daphne's right hand with her left and raised it up so they could all admire Iolanthe's ring.
Daphne blushed.
"Old," said Narcissa, glancing at Harry.
"It is," Harry said. "It is supposed to have belonged to my several times Great-Grandmother Iolanthe Peverell. There was a note with the ring. That is all it said: 'Iolanthe's ring.' It might not be possible to authenticate it. We both checked for anything untoward."
Harry looked at Daphne who started to laugh.
"It's true," she said. "I kind of made him."
"What's funny about that?" asked Draco. "Anything that old could have a ton of nasty stuff on it."
"Voice of experience, Draco?" asked Daphne, her own snark making her laugh once again.
"Well, just saying, can't be too careful, where magic is concerned and all…" Draco managed. Narcissa looked like she was delighted by Daphne's cheek.
"How about that tour, Harry?" asked Narcissa.
Harry led the way out, followed by Draco. Narcissa maneuvered to keep her hold on Daphne's right hand as they walked, her eyes on the sapphire ring, studying it, touching it with the tip of her thumb.
"You and Harry," muttered Narcissa. "You are very close, aren't you?"
"The dining room," Harry was saying. He stopped talking to let Narcissa discover the portrait of Walburga and her lads that overlooked the table.
"Oh, Merlin, is that enchanted?" Narcissa asked.
"Yep," said Sirius.
"You bet!" added Regulus.
"Is that Narcissa? And Draco? Oh, isn't that something? What are you doing here?" asked Walburga.
"Scouting locations for a little event we'd like to do for Draco and his fiancée," said Narcissa. "What are you all doing here?"
"We live here!" Regulus explained, nearly shouting. "How cool is that?"
"Very cool," said Draco.
The tour of the public spaces and the lawn and gardens evolved to become a tour of the entirety of Potter Manor. Harry skipped only the dungeons and the portraits of James and Lily in the breakfast room. Those were no one's business but the Potters, in Harry's view.
When things were winding down, coffee and tea finished and just before the Malfoys took their leave, Narcissa leaned toward Daphne.
"Can you show me to the powder room?" she asked and was taken in hand by Daphne.
When they'd gotten there and were free of the wizards Narcissa paused, holding the door handle.
"I need to visit this tea room everyone is talking about," said Narcissa, keeping her voice down. "When would be a good time for you?"
Several possibilities were available and a date and time were fixed.
When they met at the tea room later that week it seemed to Daphne as if Narcissa just wanted to visit the latest phenomenon in the Magical British array of interesting things to do. Her conversational leads stuck to ordinary current events among the magical population or plans for the lawn party Harry and Daphne were going to put on for Draco and Astoria. The other customers went out by ones and twos and the noble witches found themselves alone at one of the low tables.
Narcissa took her time studying the traditional furnishings, rice paper paintings, the Hokusai prints and flower arrangements. She seemed to approve, lingering over each bit of décor before nodding and moving on to the next. Daphne was pouring their final cups of tea when Narcissa suddenly circled back to her call at Potter Manor.
"How did Harry come across the sapphire?" asked Narcissa. "It really likes you. There was no holding it in there in your salon."
"Well, it is still Harry's salon, until we tie the knot," Daphne began. "When we agreed we were the other's intended, though still not formally engaged, Harry gave it to me. He had found it in the vault at Gringotts, he liked it and wanted to see it worn and said he had been looking for the right occasion."
Narcissa and Daphne exchanged smiles. Narcissa stretched her arm across the table, again covering Daphne's right hand. Daphne felt fingertips stroke her little finger. It should have been disconcerting but somehow wasn't.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Narcissa asked. "I think this ring reached out to you. The deeper meanings of these things are not always clear to us mortals. The Old Ones sometimes choose to be opaque, maybe a little, maybe a lot. Iolanthe must have been a very knowledgeable witch. Powerful. If I'm right, she knew a Potter was going to need a witch like you someday."
"Narcissa, that's very nice," said Daphne. "Also a little speculative, it seems to me."
Narcissa stared into Daphne's eyes.
"You'll be Lady Black, someday soon, Daphne," she said. "I'm married, my surname is Malfoy now, but the Blacks are my birth family, my heritage. Blacks never really leave the Blacks behind. Did you know that? Dorea's portrait proclaimed herself in good standing with the current Lord Black. Such loyalty, and from a banished soul! None but the strongest family can hold us like that. It was a surprise to Lucius, I can tell you, but he found out when it was too late to do anything about it. If you and Potter complete the journey you're on, and it appears all that's left are the formalities and signing the registry, then you will become my chief, as a Black. Even if I must cleave to my husband, as I vowed to do. Do you understand?"
"What?" asked Daphne. "Narcissa, what do you want to do? Or, maybe the question is what do you want me to do? I know you are fond of Harry, anyone could see it. In fact, I kind of hoped you wanted to meet for tea someplace quiet and neutral to put my lingering questions to rest. Which I'm explicitly inviting you to do, right now, in case that isn't clear enough."
"Oh, you are a witch, Daphne Greengrass," said Narcissa. "We have been so in need of a witch like you. We haven't had a Lady Black encumbering the office since Walburga died. Tragic. Such a leadership vacuum. Do I find Potter attractive? Am I fond of him, as you say? Merlin, yes. I owe him my life, not to mention Lucius' and Draco's. He hasn't grown into his power yet, nor his potency, unless I've become incapable of assessing those things. Yes, remember him in the Great Hall? I know that you do, it shows on your face. He'd barely begun to shave yet he prowled through that hall like a natural warlord, the physical and magical in perfect balance, just what we witches want fathering our children. We can't help it. Remember that, I won't be the only one. However, smart witches must be disciplined about such things. Our lives and futures, yours and mine, are already intertwined and will be much better served by me being honest with you about everything, including my fascination with your husband. I promise, I vow to respect any boundaries you set. My job is to be faithful and loyal to you, your trusted servant."
It was Daphne's turn to stare. She didn't know exactly what Narcissa was getting at but it sounded like the senior witch was confessing a sin, begging for absolution and pledging fealty all in one convenient package. Daphne considered her companion for what felt like a long time before deciding to find out if she was reading Narcissa accurately. She extended her right arm across the table, her hand inches from Narcissa.
"It will be my pleasure to accept your offer, Narcissa Black," said Daphne, holding Narcissa's eyes as she spoke. "This conversation stays between us, unless I learn you have breached confidentiality. You will help me as we set about restoring our noble family. For my part I vow that when you have battles to fight you will never again have to fight them alone."
Narcissa let out a long breath as she reached for Daphne's hand. Daphne watched Narcissa's tears welling up and overflowing her lower lids to slide down across her exquisite, chiseled cheekbones. Narcissa was shuddering as she took Daphne's hand in both of hers, kissing first the back, then Iolanthe's ring, then the back a second time before leaning forward and down to press Daphne's tear-washed hand to her forehead.
"Thank-you, Lady Daphne," she whispered. "Thank-you. You have made me feel whole. It has been so long. I had given up hoping I could ever hold my head up again, I swear before Morgana."
Daphne thought the second round of hand-kissing that followed might be overdoing just a bit, although Narcissa obviously craved the catharsis. Daphne put herself into a role she didn't know anything about, but she was representing her future husband so she resolved to don a mental cloak of office and act the part.
"Please do so," she said, trying for an imperious touch. "Pull yourself together and I'll take you outside for a walk. You can use some fresh air, it appears."
Daphne did exactly that, walking Narcissa the full length of Diagon Alley, their arms linked and hoods thrown back. The point was to present Narcissa to their little society as a Companion of Lady Black. They took their time before several shop windows, admiring the wares, silver, china and kitchen, that would likely be showing up soon as wedding gifts for Draco and Astoria. Daphne thought about Walburga and how even her portraits projected an assumption of authority. She hoped, as she held onto the mental image, that she looked at minimum like a Lady Black in training.
While they walked, Daphne kept up a subtle surveillance of her new retainer. Narcissa had always seemed to Daphne to have an abundance of natural beauty, exquisite manners and a brittleness that communicated self-doubt. Narcissa, a noble and tragic witch whose handsome and talented husband possessed an unerring instinct for picking the second-place horse to win, over and over, was bound to develop doubts. Anyone would. Daphne was pleased to observe Narcissa was walking with her head held up.
"What is wrong with me?" Narcissa had been asking herself.
"Nothing wrong with you, dear," said Daphne's actions, "You've just been letting the other one confuse galleons with manhood. What better place than Diagon Alley to begin fixing you?"
The street—shoppers, goblins, people on business and the ambient magic—recognized the two noble and handsome witches, of course. The nuance was startlingly clear for all of those present who were sensitive enough to read the magical language inherent in the witches' stroll.
Daphne Greengrass, the intended of Lord Harry Potter Black, was allying with Narcissa Malfoy. The news bit was recorded and the reassessments began. What would it all mean for Magical Britain?