Merit and Inheritance
Chapter Thirty-four
Runic Blessings
The next few weeks were one of THOSE periods. Each day felt like it would never end. When Harry, Daphne and their friends worked their way through the busy patch it seemed, in retrospect, as if it had all flown by.
Daphne and Astoria pitched in, along with Narcissa, to keep planning moving in anticipation of Astoria and Draco's upcoming wedding. Pansy oversaw the tea shop and the companion space. She was still working on finding something for the basement. Harry tried to keep up with his studies in family magic but it wasn't the same without Daphne and Daphne seldom had time to join him.
Morag returned from Scotland and reported that she had rented Livia's cottage to Romilda, who was doing fine and looking forward to the birth of her child. Pansy listened. She wasn't enthusiastic. Pansy could think of all kinds of things that could go wrong for a pregnant witch living alone in a two room cottage on a lane in the middle of nowhere. Harry agreed.
Romilda had the additional issue of what might still be her unresolved relationship with the Bergs. No one had seen any sign of continuing attention from Romilda's in-laws, while the nature of the problem itself prevented confirmation that they were ready to leave her alone. Harry kept his own counsel. He wasn't just worried for Romilda, but Pansy and Morag as well. They had all incurred some exposure to the Bergs.
Cordelia worked hard at her recovery. Somehow the combined counseling from Daphne, Narcissa and Walburga cut away her defenses and she faced up to her problem. She cooperated with the professionals on the specialized unit at St. Mungo's, putting up with the diagnostic procedures and initial workup. She didn't even complain about the more invasive phases of her initial examinations. Cordelia did not like the therapy sessions. The counselors were skilled interviewers but their questions could not be constructed to avoid bringing up painful memories. Some of the most painful memories, properly considered and analyzed, brought forth the most useful lessons. Even so, at the end of her initial week she was ready to come home.
"Mum, you really haven't been here long enough," Daphne argued.
"You know I can't stay, Daphne," Cordelia countered. "We have a date for a wedding. We're in the countdown. Let me go home and get busy. Work is therapy."
Cordelia wasn't a prisoner and St. Mungo's couldn't hold her against her will so she did end up going home. She attended a meeting every evening at seven. Daphne was impressed and told Cordelia so. She also watched for indications Cordelia was slipping back to old habits.
Somehow, it all got done.
The vise loosened, letting Harry and Daphne return to spending an evening or two each week with their family grimoires. Sometimes they read to themselves and sometimes aloud.
One evening Harry stopped reading and passed his volume, a treatise on bonding between partners by a well-known alchemist, over to Daphne with a question: "Know anything about this?"
Daphne read for a bit.
"Never heard of it," she said. "It would explain one or two things."
Harry looked across at Daphne.
"Like?"
"You've surprised me, once or twice, by seeming to know just what I've been thinking I really need done."
Harry rolled that around in his mind.
"Maybe those were just paying attention," Harry said. "Or two people with similarities about what they enjoy."
"You could be right," said Daphne. "Simple compatibility."
"How are you with runes?" Harry asked. He looked into Daphne's eyes. "I could use some calligraphy practice."
"Do tell," said Daphne, adding a little smile.
The alchemist had compiled a short book, little more than one hundred pages, some of which were illustrations, describing what he claimed were actual cases of magical couples who had formed extraordinarily strong bonds. The course required patience. Those who chose to complete it were reported to achieve unusual sensitivity between partners, intuiting thoughts, moods and needs without the bother of putting everything into words. Sticking with the program produced unusual levels of empathy. Individuality remained intact while the pair became more and more sensitive to the other's needs. The little book was filled with cautionary notes.
"Do you think we could?" Harry asked.
Daphne didn't realize it but the fingers of her left hand were stroking Iolanthe's ring on her right.
"Maybe we've already begun," Daphne observed. The tip of Daphne's tongue peeked out and moistened her upper lip, and that was the end of any productive study that evening.
Harry had finished going through the office correspondence one morning when he decided to take the little book on bonding and visit the tea room. Pansy spent part of every day there, generally in the morning, then came back to Potter and Associates after lunch. She had found some young witches, and one young wizard, who were just starting out and hired them to work in the tea room and the little shop next door with the eclectic stock.
"Harry," Pansy said in greeting when Harry walked through the door. "Come for a cup?"
"How about one of the small pots of the green?" Harry asked. "I brought a book."
Harry held up the little volume.
"Of course," said Pansy. "Sit anywhere, we'll be right there."
One of Pansy's proteges brought the tray with the teapot and two cups. Harry must have shown surprise at the second cup.
"Pansy said she'll be along," the young witch muttered in explanation.
Harry let the tea steep and opened his book. The alchemist wrote in a methodical, non-sensationalist style. Harry was something of a sucker for arguments couched in academic terms and found the text to be very persuasive, precisely because it was so dry.
"What are you reading?" Pansy asked. She pulled out the low chair and sat down.
"Something I found that purports to be a study on forming strong bonds in magical couples," said Harry.
"Do you really think that you and my housemate Greengrass need that, Harry Potter?" Pansy came back. "If she wasn't out being a healer all day and night I think you two would be joined at the hip."
"Maybe so," Harry said. "I have to find someone with greater expertise. From what I can see, if a couple worked through these steps the worst that could happen would be to find out it had no basis and they had just wasted a little time. I searched out an alchemist once and wanted to ask him a few questions about something technical that I didn't understand. His attention span was too short, though. All he wanted me to talk about was fighting Voldemort."
Harry kept his voice down out of respect for the other customers, since so many people were still traumatized just by hearing the Dark Lord's name. Something about his dry account of the conversation with the alchemist struck Pansy just right and she let out a whoop of laughter.
"That's what you get!" she said.
"For what?" asked Harry.
"For being Harry Potter," Pansy whispered.
Harry looked around the tea room. Satisfied there were no quills and parchments coming out from under cloaks, because he wasn't in the mood to sign autographs just then, he turned his attention back to Pansy.
"On the other subject, I ran across this and it just looked interesting. Daphne hadn't heard of it before, which kind of surprised me, coming from the healer," Harry said.
"Give it a try," said Pansy. "I didn't see anything in there that looked like it would throw you onto a parallel plane of existence, should it go horribly wrong."
"I suppose you would want a full report, once we are successful?"
"Harry," said Pansy. "Witches do have to share. It's our learning style."
Daphne and Harry kept their calendars close at hand during those weeks. They told themselves, and each other, that they had so much going on they needed to be checking throughout the day. That was true, as far as it went. The real reason though, went unspoken, and that was because they were counting the days to Astoria and Draco's wedding.
They were both happy for Astoria, who was going to get to marry her true love, instead of Laurent Selwyn. Harry was even semi-happy for Draco. He didn't feel a need to convey insincere hopes for a lifetime of happiness. Draco had been quite the source of hurt and discontent, not just for Harry, but for practically everyone Harry knew back at Hogwarts. At the time, Lucius Malfoy seemed to delight in trashing the Weasley family over their lack of wealth. Arthur and Molly managed to live on Arthur's Ministry salary and delighted in their big family. Lucius seemed to Harry to be a fatally flawed personality with money, which attributes he passed on to his only child. Harry's list of priorities didn't include either money or a repellent personality, which would, in turn, guarantee he and Draco would have difficulty communicating.
The real reason Daphne and Harry watched the calendar, though, was because once Astoria was married there would be a clear path to the altar for them. Neither was a slave to protocol but Daphne loved Astoria madly, and would never knowingly do anything to throw shade on her sister. Therefore, Daphne was making a conscious effort to push Astoria forward socially, so that she could occupy her rightful place as the star among stars in the season's social calendar.
Still, there were no restraints on Daphne and Harry's own preparations. They simply felt better letting Astoria and Draco have the spotlight right then. Harry noticed Daphne was spending a lot of time sewing. He tried not to be obvious but he watched as much as he could, trying to figure out what she was working on. After a week or two he could see a long crimson gown taking shape. Daphne got the basic garment tacked together and had Harry stand up and slip it over his head. After a couple of circumnavigations Daphne allowed Harry to take it off and returned to her work. She spent one evening basting a gold band about two inches wide around the edges. Then it appeared she was done with the garment and had turned to embroidery. When she got enough done, Harry could see she was embroidering runes here and there. He resolved to get a good rune text and brush up.
"Pansy!" Harry called, the next time the two were in the office together.
"Harry?" Pansy answered.
"Do you have any good rune books over there?"
"No, I'd recommend Flourish and Blotts," said Pansy. "Runes are mass market, as magical books go, so we leave it to them. Why?"
"I need a simple one, something even I can understand," said Harry. "Do you have any recommendations?"
"My nail polish is still drying, Harry, so I've put off doing actual work for another minute or two. Have you thought of Hermione Granger? Wasn't she the greatest rune-witch of the age, just a short time ago?" asked Pansy.
"Oh, right, that's an excellent idea," Harry said. "Thanks!"
"I betcha she's bored to tears, sitting over there in her office in the Department of Mysteries, waiting for someone to magically appear in her fireplace…"
"Promise me you'll never go looking for a full-time occupation, Pansy, because I won't survive without you."
Harry got up and threw some floo powder into his grate. He let his head bask in the painless flames for a few seconds before he spoke.
"Department of Mysteries, Harry Potter calling for Hermione Granger!"
"Harry!" said a familiar voice. "How can I help you today?"
"I've developed a beginner's interest in runes," Harry said. "That leads to a need for a rune book suitable for a…"
"Beginner," said Hermione, finishing Harry's sentence. "How soon do you need them?"
"Them?" asked Harry.
"Well sure," said Hermione. "They're all a little different, that's the way the field works. All the experts have their preferences, which diverge here and there. When do you want me to deliver them?"
"Oh, that's convenient," Harry said. "Tonight, at Grimmauld Place?"
"Time?" asked Hermione.
"Anytime," Harry answered.
"Done," said Hermione.
"That was easy enough," said Harry. He thought he was talking to himself.
"Her parents might be dentists but Hermione is a witch," Pansy noted from her place on the threshold of Harry's office. "Witches like to do things for people, I suspect it is built-in. She's an expert in the field and flattered by your interest."
"Taking your word for it," Harry assured her.
Hermione took the floo to #12 Grimmauld Place immediately after dinner that evening.
"Where's Daphne?" Hermione asked, looking around the salon.
"Worked all day at the office, now she's at Greengrass Manor, plotting with Cordelia and Astoria, allegedly," said Harry. "Astoria's wedding must be planned, over and over and over."
"Harry, they're having fun," Hermione said. "Every time they run through their plans and adjust some little thing they get the positive feedback all over again. You'll be getting involved in your own planning soon, I think?"
Harry didn't have a response.
"Ahh…" he tried, improvising. "I'm sure Daphne has some ideas."
"Exactly," said Hermione. "That's how it begins—with an idea. Hold on tight, Harry, I'm guessing you're in for a ride."
With that she dispensed a very proper, smackless kiss to Harry's cheek and stepped back into the fireplace, disappearing in the green flames.
Harry didn't have an affinity for runes and he led a very interesting life with no one around to tell him to drop this and go work on that. Therefore he was as surprised as anyone else would have been when he realized he was throwing himself into the study of runes. Harry had taken a similar approach to quidditch and to Defense Against the Dark Arts under Professor Lupin. Other than those two he couldn't think of any other academic fields he had worked at like he worked at runes.
Daphne knew why he was working so hard. She had read the little book about bonding between magical couples. She had also heard by word of mouth of ritual rune-painting. As a healer, Daphne had a more scientific way of thinking than most witches, making her very skeptical. Still, if Harry Potter wanted to take up runes, Daphne thought that was constructive and just fine with her.
Harry and Daphne were just exiting from the period of intense activity when Harry observed that they really should make a joint visit to Gringotts and take a look in the Potter vault.
"What for?" asked Daphne.
"Well, I thought you might like to look for an engagement ring," said Harry. "You could find something suitable in the old jewelry. If you don't then of course I will get you whatever you like."
"Okay, let's coordinate and find a time," said Daphne.
The vault visit took place about two weeks later. It seemed like if Harry was available, Daphne wasn't. Harry was right off of Diagon Alley, and Gringotts, whenever he was at the office, meaning it wasn't really Harry having trouble with a meetup. He began to think Daphne was ambivalent. Harry wasn't one hundred percent accurate nor was he completely wrong.
"It doesn't have to be showy," Daphne said as Harry pressed his hand on the Potters' vault door.
Something must have conveyed in the way he looked at Daphne ane she responded to him as if he'd spoken.
"Healers put their hands on people all day. Pulling a ring off and putting it somewhere would be a waste of time. Also prone to loss. I'd be devastated. You'd never trust me again…" Daphne said.
"Oh, that's not true," said Harry. "Things get lost. That's why there are hoards in the museums. What brought this on?"
"Not sure anything was 'brought on' in your quaint phrase," Daphne flared just a little.
The lighting in the vault had just come up when Harry stopped in front of an inner door. It looked a little like the smallest walk-in bank vault doors from the muggle world. There weren't any dials or other kinds of vault door hardware visible because the locking and unlocking were controlled by the lord's hand.
Harry listened for the clicks and stood back so the door could open. He led Daphne in and they waited for the sconces to flame up and stabilize. The sides of the little room were lined with steel boxes along the lines of muggle safe deposit boxes. The boxes didn't have the look of brushed steel but were black. Again, there were no locking mechanisms visible. The boxes were differentiated from one another by brass Roman numerals keyed to a chart on the back of the entrance door, one of which just said: 'RINGS' and XVII.
Harry laid his hand on number seventeen. As he released the pressure the drawer came open with his hand.
"Iolanthe's ring was in here," he said as he removed two hands-full of velvet-covered boxes.
Daphne touched Iolanthe's ring with the fingertips of her left hand.
"Oh, goody!" she said, "We'll get to see if lightning does strike the same place twice."
Daphne had visibly brightened up at the prospect which conveyed itself to Harry's mood as well.
Harry pulled over a step stool that was kept inside to facilitate climbing to the higher levels of the boxes and laid out his trove on top.
"Maybe it does," he said, opening the first box.
The ring inside was a diamond solitaire, square cut, in a gold ring. Harry thought it was probably valuable because of the size of the diamond but it wasn't distinguished otherwise. He remembered Daphne's observation about healers and putting their hands all over people. There were certainly bits of anatomy that came to mind as bad places for a diamond to get caught in the course of an examination.
"Lovely, but nah…" Daphne said.
Several more, diamonds, sapphires, rubies and one spectacular emerald followed in turn. Harry reached for a black box that was a little larger than the others and opened it.
"Stop," Daphne ordered. "Put it down."
Harry set the box down on the stool. Daphne drew her wand and held it near the two silver rings inside. Harry could see her lips move as she whispered, casting charms on the pair.
"I don't think there is anything harmful on them, but they're full of magic," she murmured. "What do you think?"
Daphne stood still as Harry held his own wand over the rings much the way Daphne had done. Harry noticed she looked just as she had in the salon when they'd brought Walburga to Potter Manor. He theorized Daphne was feeling magic at work, something so thick with meaning she minimized her own movements and sensory inputs to open up the widest possible channel for it.
"Oooo…" she said, visibly enjoying something.
"Nothing," said Harry. "Nothing Dark. Lots of magic, though, as you said."
His voice broke the flow for Daphne. Her nose flared, she breathed in deeply and opened her eyes wide.
"We can stop, unless you just want to go on for familiarization purposes," said Daphne. "I don't need to look further for my ring. These are a matched pair of wedding bands. This is the one I want you to put on my finger at sunup on our wedding day. Forget an engagement ring. I have Iolanthe's ring and that is more than enough. Some big rock on the left would be an insult to this. Merlin, I wonder how old these are?"
Daphne, whispering, almost to herself by then, had taken the smaller ring out of the box and was turning it over and over. Harry could see what looked like little letters carved into the thick band of metal.
"What are they, platinum?" he asked.
"No, they're silver, and really fine silver, older than modern methods for working platinum," Daphne said. She looked inside the band. "Something else to look up in a good guide. The runes are for fertility…"
"Good enough for me," Harry interrupted, earning a look. Luckily, it wasn't a dangerously bad look, there in the close quarters of the vault.
"…good fortune, faith, family," Daphne said. "Possibly goblin work. Take yours out."
Harry did as he was told.
"Strength, victory, love, good fortune," she read. "Subject to a little more research. Runes weren't my strong suit."
"We'll have to study up," said Harry, just getting the words out before Daphne grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him to her. Harry's leg bumped the stool when he moved, displacing a few of the little boxes, sending them clattering to the floor but Daphne forced him to ignore them while she kissed him, hard.
"These are what we're wearing, Harry Potter," Daphne said. She had a fierce look on, something Harry had seen in flashes, nothing more, and those were rare. This is something new, he thought.
"As you wish, Lady Daphne," said an astonished Harry, adding his promotion of his lover to Narcissa's, although neither of them felt such a protocol violation constituted a sin against Nature. In fact, he was rewarded with another kiss for his cheek.
They let things calm down a bit and picked up the spillage. With the ring question settled they gained the peace of mind necessary to do some sightseeing in the unopened boxes. Daphne and Harry were both impressed with the beauty of the collection. Daphne was better at spotting the superior gems and craftsmanship but Harry had a good eye for design and balance between the stones and their settings.
"Harry, you have some museum pieces," said Daphne. "We might have to give some thought to getting these out so they're seen. It's too much beauty to keep hidden away. The world can't get too much of such loveliness."
"We can do that," said Harry. "Want to take these home?"
He meant the pair of silver rings Daphne had picked out.
"Me?" she asked.
"I was thinking of the manor, but if you want to…"
"You'd better, you have better security," Daphne said. "Will you let me get them out and look, from time to time?"
Harry was laughing as he closed the metal drawer. He checked the ring box one more time to make sure the pair was inside before dropping it into his trouser pocket and giving the pocket a tap with his wand tip, sealing it closed.
"You'll get tired of them," he teased. "Putting it on for real will be anti-climactic."
"No, it won't," said Daphne, the steel back in her voice. She looked around the peculiar vault. "Do you know who installed this? They must have materialized it right here, somehow. I guess they could have brought it down in pieces."
"I don't know who put it in. I've learned we don't have a lot of Potter vaults," said Harry. "We have one door to the common area outside, but there are subdivisions inside here. It's a little different approach from some."
Harry checked his watch.
"Working tonight? I have time to look around, if you want a tour," he said.
Daphne must have hesitated. Getting to enter a family vault before she joined the family, even if she was in the company of the chief, was rare, not unheard-of but nearly so. She knew of noble witches who had never seen the inside of their husband's family vault. Some chiefs were prickly that way.
"If you're sure…" she said.
"What harm?" said Harry. "The worst that could happen would be you would dump me and then you'd have to look over your shoulder forever because I'd be checking to see if you were spilling Potter family secrets."
"I know you well enough to grasp that you're having a laugh at my expense," objected Daphne.
"You spoil all my fun," Harry replied. "Look at this room here—what do you think of these candlesticks?"
"Just a bit profligate," Daphne observed. "Gold candlesticks covered in the inevitable wax. I wonder when these came in here?"
"Um…Hadn't thought of that," said Harry. "The first time I saw them I couldn't help wondering if we'd come by them legally."
Daphne rewarded Harry with a real belly laugh.
"It wasn't that long ago and the doctrine was if you had them, you'd come by them legally, even if the original transaction was theft or murder," Daphne said.
"Yeah, well, maybe we almost went back to that," Harry said. "My old adversary wasn't big on law and order, it didn't seem to me."
Harry picked up one of the candlesticks and looked at the crest on the base.
"Hell-OH!" he said. "There is a story here. I need to talk to Grandmother Dorea. That is the Black crest. Never noticed it before. I wonder how long this has been here? Did some Potter make off with these? Maybe they were handed over as reparations for some injury. Probably something much tamer. Great-grandmother's dowry or the like."
"Any way you look at it they belong to you now," said Daphne. "Unless you want to return them to yourself, Lord Potter to Lord Black as a gesture of reconciliation."
They toured a bit more before exiting.
"The Blacks are down there," said Harry with a wave as he closed the Potter vault door. "We'll have to get a fresh inventory and go through it all. I'm NOT looking forward to that. I visited one time, just to establish myself with the charms and security spells. You won't believe the mess."
"We'll figure it out," said Daphne. "We'll just do a schedule and commit to being there when we agree to be there. Work together. Keep a sense of humor."
"Get it organized," Harry said in agreement.
"Bring order out of chaos," Daphne concluded.
Harry didn't insist that Daphne accompany him to Potter Manor but his suggestion was so intense and saturated with clear hopes that Daphne would come that she smiled and said she would be delighted. She was actually getting tired and had planned to go back to her flat alone for some uninterrupted sleep until such time as she woke up. That was a rare treat for a healer with Daphne's combination of private practice and hospital rotation.
"I think…" Harry began as he waited for the great front door to close and lock itself.
"Nothing?" asked Harry, turning and walking down the hall.
He waited for the door to say something like, "Putz," but it finished with a simple yawning sound.
"I think in here," Harry continued as he stepped into the dining room.
A large, glass-fronted china cabinet dominated one wall. Kreacher kept it filled with all kinds of tableware polished to within microns of disappearing altogether.
"Madam Walburga?" said Harry. Walburga and her lads began blinking their eyes.
"Oh, it's you," said Walburga. "And Daphne! Well, now, this isn't so bad after all."
"Good afternoon, Madam," Daphne said. "How are you and the young gentlemen this afternoon?"
"Tolerable, dear," said Walburga. "Anything I can do for you?"
"There is, Madam," said Harry. "Healer Daphne and I have declared our love and agreed to marry. The calendar will eventually clear and we will conclude this matter and embark on a new life of love and harmony. We set out today to visit Gringotts and look through the Potter jewelry for an official engagement ring. However, Healer Daphne is a very practical witch and wasn't particularly interested in more frou-frou for her beautiful healer's hands. She did have the taste and presence of mind to spot this pair of wedding rings. I wonder if you will be kind enough to handle security until we're able to begin wearing them as husband and wife?"
Walburga grinned from ear to ear, a complete break from her usual stern and disapproving look. Harry opened the box and held the pair of silver rings up toward the portrait.
"Oh, my dear!" Walburga exclaimed. "Those are exquisite! Potter is right, your taste far exceeds your contemporaries with their flashy bijou. Are those runes?"
"They are, conveying blessings for myself and for his lordship," said Daphne, "Faith, love…"
Daphne stopped speaking, her voice caught for a moment, then dropped, as if she were respecting the sacred nature of her next words.
"…Fertility. Family…"
Harry could hear, in Daphne's tone, just how moved she was. Daphne almost sounded like she was taking a vow to love, honor and cherish, right there in the dining room with Walburga in the role of officiant. He stepped closer and laid a hand lightly across the small of her back.
"Daphne," Harry whispered.
Daphne turned her head and gave him a smile. Harry's free hand held the ring box, which he closed before putting the first knuckle of his first finger under her chin and leaning in. He brushed his lips on Daphne's and returned her smile. Harry turned, slowly, toward Walburga.
"What we had in mind, Madam, was asking you to keep an eye on these," Harry said. He let Daphne go and crossed to the china cabinet.
"One more look?" asked Harry, directing the question to Daphne.
"Oh, I think everything from the last three minutes is permanently etched in my memory," she said. "Perhaps I'll take a peek in two or three weeks."