Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no claims to ownership.
By entering The Leaky Cauldron from Charing Cross Road, no one noticed Daphne's arrival. She had never been more thankful to be what Pansy mockingly called 'a background Slytherin.' A couple months ago, when Theo had visited the alley, someone had identified him as the son of a Death Eater. The Aurors had done nothing to stop the crowd from attacking him and Theo swore he had barely escaped with his life. None of their group of friends had been here since then.
A familiar young woman rushed past Daphne on her way to fill another order. Daphne paused for a moment, watching her thoughtfully, and then a tipsy customer stumbled into her, distracting her from the waitress. Grimacing, Daphne pushed her way through the crowd to the back wall and quickly tapped the bricks, revealing a bustling street on the other side.
Diagon Alley seemed to have fully recovered in the year since the war officially ended. No longer were the windows and doorways covered by bars. Instead of speaking in low voices, people laughed aloud without a care as they stood beneath the store awnings. Parents called out to their children, warning them to not wander off too far, and Daphne's stomach twisted with a mixture of guilt and envy. Cora and Jason couldn't have that same experience, eyes wide with wonder as they explored the magical world.
The bookstore, thankfully, was less crowded. At the counter, Susan Bones was finishing up with another customer and only called out the customary greeting as Daphne entered the store. Daphne murmured a response and hurried toward the shelves labeled as the children's section.
Frowning, Daphne scanned the colorful books and realized she had no idea what stories were out right now.
"Is this for the kids?" a voice asked curiously from behind her.
Daphne made a small yipping sound as she looked over her shoulder.
"Don't do that!" she snapped accusingly.
Hannah smiled, but there was only a small edge of apology in the rise of her lips. She mostly looked amused.
"I thought it was you," she said. "What are you doing in the alley?"
Turning back to the shelf, Daphne cleared her throat. "It's Jason's birthday in a few days," she said gruffly. "I wanted to get him a book, so the other children would be less likely to steal it."
"And you couldn't order it via owl?"
Daphne shook her head. Since she lived in a Muggle area, she couldn't use as powerful of charms to distract them from magical activity. An owl would have looked suspicious to her neighbors.
Hannah leaned around Daphne and plucked a book from off the shelf behind her. "I've seen kids at the pub with this one," she said. "It might be above Jason's level, but I'm sure Cora would enjoy reading it to him."
"Or they can add it to the group collection," Daphne murmured. "Mr. Borg reads to all the younger kids before they go to bed."
Hannah's expression dulled as sadness clouded her features.
"Alexander ought to be the one doing that," she said softly, "and Vivien tucking them into bed at night. God, they're too young for this."
Daphne's throat closed up as guilt nearly consumed her. There wasn't an appropriate age for any of this to be happening. It had been two years since her own father died and she still had moments where she wanted to cry because she missed him so much. Astoria hadn't taken off her necklace, a present from their father, since the day he died.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't do anything for Noah."
Hannah shook her head. After her mother died, Hannah had taken off the last part of their sixth year in order to take care of her younger brother. Her biggest regret was letting him go to Hogwarts, but their father had turned into a drunkard, and though he'd never strike his children, Hannah had confessed she was afraid of staying with him.
"It's okay," she said quietly. "It was a precarious situation. I'm not sure you could have done anything. Michael Corner got tortured when he tried."
"How is he? Noah, I mean."
"He's…better. He has a few friends, people he trusts, he says. I just…" Hannah sighed, and the weariness on her face and in her slumped shoulders belonged to an older woman, not someone so young. "I can't help worrying about him."
Daphne nodded in silent understanding. She felt the same way about Astoria, who was less than three years younger than her. Noah, however, had been a first-year and utterly defenseless when the Carrow twins decided to target him.
"What about Cora?" Hannah asked, switching topics but not overall subject. "Is she still having nightmares?"
Daphne grimaced. "She tries to hide them, but yes, she does." She hesitated, and then said softer, knowing she could trust Hannah, "Occasionally Mrs. Borg lets them spend the night with me, and sometimes, when I wake up, Cora's staring at Jason like she's afraid he'll disappear."
Hannah drew in her breath sharply. Turning away from Daphne, she took a moment to compose herself, hiding behind her blonde hair. It was no longer in pigtails, as it had so often been when they were younger. In a strange way, it was that, more than her more mature features, which served as a reminder that they had all lost their innocence.
From the front of the store, Daphne could hear other customers talking and laughing, and it all seemed so fake to her. She looked down at the book in her hands. The cover had a dark-haired boy waving a sword at a dragon. Her lips twisted. How distasteful.
"Astoria's insisting on hosting a party," she said aloud without looking at Hannah. "It's at the Refuge, of course, but you're invited."
Hannah nodded. "I'll be there," she promised, "and I'll bring Noah. He's getting bored of the alley."
Which means he's living with you, Daphne realized but did not comment on. Instead she asked, with a forced teasing grin, "And your paramour?"
"My what?"
Hannah had done a double-take. Then her features smoothed into a grimace of her own and she glanced around warily, watchful of any potential eavesdroppers. Noting the small family standing nearby them, she took ahold of Daphne's elbow and marched her to the back of the store.
"Susan, we'll be in here for a little while," Hannah called over her shoulder.
"Okay, just don't –"
Susan looked up from counting the money, her eyes first widening and then narrowing when she saw Daphne being pulled into the small room. Daphne forced a reassuring smile in her direction. It ached a little on her mouth; she couldn't remember the last time she genuinely smiled.
"Out with it," Hannah ordered when they were alone. "How'd you know about the contract?"
"I guessed," Daphne replied, not wanting to reveal Tracey as her informant. "You and Longbottom didn't even speak with each other prior to seventh year, and then he was suddenly super protective of both you and Noah."
With a sigh, Hannah sank into one of the available chairs and covered her face with her hands. She stayed that way for a long moment before speaking slowly, as if still thinking about the words.
"It was made after my mum died," she admitted quietly. "There's no binding part to it, if either of us want out then we can. I think it was mostly made as an assurance for Neville's grandmother."
Daphne leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Why?" she asked simply.
Hannah fidgeted, glancing up at Daphne and then quickly looking away again. In a low voice, she said, "Neville took Ginny Weasley to the Yule Ball, remember? Then there was that whole Ministry incident in our fifth year. Mrs. Longbottom probably thought he was sweet on Ginny."
Daphne's brows rose. "Is that a bad thing?"
"They're first cousins once removed," Hannah explained. "It would be like you or I marrying Jason."
The very thought of it made Daphne want to puke. Unfortunately, she wouldn't find it too surprising if Longbottom and the Weaslette got married. Of all the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, the Weasleys were among the most incestuous. They deliberately bred to keep their red hair, which was seen by the Weaslette's interest in Potter. As for him, he probably just wanted to re-enact his parents.
"Potter doesn't know about the Weaslette, does he?" Daphne said wisely.
"No," said Hannah, "and you won't tell him, either. He deserves happiness, and if Ginny can give it to him, then so be it."
Daphne didn't bother hiding her snort. There'd never be an opportunity for her to tell Potter, much as she'd enjoy seeing his expression. Well, maybe not enjoy it, she considered, but I'd take a picture for Tori. She'd love it.
Although Daphne didn't know explicitly why Astoria disliked the Weaslette, she could guess the reasoning. The youngest Weasley had a reputation for hexing people who annoyed her, and Daphne doubted it got any better in her last year of school.
"I should get going," Daphne said, pushing up from the wall.
Hannah nodded. "You can use the Floo here," she said, gesturing to it. "Don't worry about paying for the book. I'll do that myself."
Then suddenly she rose from her seat and pulled Daphne into a loose but comforting hug.
"You're a good person, Daphne Greengrass," she whispered. "I believe it, even if nobody else does."
The words made Daphne's spine stiffen with embarrassment, and Hannah looked faintly amused as Daphne quickly disentangled herself. After a sincere farewell, Daphne stepped into the Floo, feeling overwhelmed in a good way. She could easily see why Mrs. Longbottom preferred Hannah as Neville's wife than the Weaslette, even without the incestuous relation.