[A Note to Readers: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to comment on these stories. I appreciate the feedback, even the negative. Your reviews tell me a bit about you, and your relationship to the characters of the Potterverse. It's always surprising to find another Harry Potter fan who is well-versed in the canon and the fanon, who has a view of a character or characters that is completely at odds with mine.
Once again, I make no claim to any characters or venues from the Harry Potter series, as all of those belong to JK Rowling.
Best regards to all Harry & Daphne fans, and happy reading!]
Chapter Nine
Lunch At Greengrass Manor—Harry and Daphne Declare They Kind of Like Each Other
Harry left the Leaky Cauldron, taking the floo back to his apartment. Neville had given him an earful, and Harry was wondering if he would have been wise to take notes. Harry thought about Neville's comments concerning Lily Potter. There was something mysterious about Harry's current situation. How was it Harry became aware of his near-engagement with Daphne just when his personal financial situation was becoming so overwhelming?
The Black and Potter properties were impinging on his consciousness for the first time since Sirius' death. Harry had been freed from worry about greater responsibilities, because impending catastrophe completely occupied his attention. He'd grown so used to dealing with immediate danger that he had never developed the ability to think in ten or twenty-year terms.
First he had had the distractions of his year on the run with Ron and Hermione to deal with, then the destruction of the Battle of Hogwarts, deaths of friends and comrades. As soon as decency permitted, the Ministry, and wizarding Britain generally, began demanding his attention. Awards, recognition, remembrance days, all crowded in. He had had to take some time away from Britain, just to get his head clear, before he could make a plan to go forward. Harry had assumed he had to make his own way in the world, so he entered auror training with Neville and Ron. He and Gringott's goblins had had a touchy, arms-length relationship for the first couple of years. He hadn't even visited his vault, because he assumed the goblins would be waiting to present him with a bill for the dragon he had hijacked.
Second, Harry completed auror training and entered on duty. He worked with more experienced aurors and was assigned greater responsibilities. He didn't have the distractions he'd had previously, but he had plenty of residual demons, so he threw himself into work. He did lots of it, which brought recognition and promotions, yet more distractions.
This went on for years. Harry thought he was on track, responsibly, toward wherever his life was going. He had his social life based on friendships and alliances going back to Hogwarts, and when the past became intrusive, he increased his dosage of work.
Now he had his attention directed elsewhere, to enterprises large enough that just finding and employing competent managers, and making the big decisions, would be his full-time occupation. He had a feeling his organized life, from which he derived so much satisfaction, upon which he had worked so hard, was about to be upended, once again.
He was thinking about how it all intersected when he reached his apparation point.
Harry appeared just outside the Greengrass Manor wards at three minutes before 12 noon. He walked up to the gate that allowed passage through a high, thick hedge. The gate opened, with a squeaky hinge-like voice that said,
"Mr. Potter, WELCOME to Greengrass Manor! The stone path leads di-RECT-ly to the front door, where one of the Greengrass elves will take you in hand. We are SO glad you could join the Greengrass family for lunch today! En-JOY your visit!"
"Thank you," said Harry. "I've got to find out what makes you work."
"Oh, I have a feeling you just may do that," squeaked the gate as it closed.
Sure enough, the stone path led to the front door, which Harry reached at 90 seconds before noon. He was reaching for a fat, brass, cat-head knocker when the door swung inward, and a house elf said, "Welcome, Mr. Potter. Will you come with me please?"
"Certainly," Harry said, and fell in step with the elf.
"Master and Mistress say don't mind Miss Daphne's dog because Raffles hasn't bitten anyone for a long time," reassured the elf.
The two of them walked through a foyer floored with flagstone pavers, took the left one of a pair of doors on the far side, and continued down a long hallway. Harry had been in enough manor houses to have a mental catalog of manor house features, including portraits, some with animated subjects, some without, suits of armor, credenzas, bookcases, and ornate candelabras. The Greengrass family was no different, except they seemed to have better control of their acquisition compulsion. Harry thought the hall décor quite tasteful, only later considering it might be that way because it was closer to what he liked than most of the halls he had passed through.
The elf led the way to a pair of double doors that stood open, a spacious, sunny reception room on the other side. Harry saw four people, a man and three women, standing in the center of the room. The man broke away from the group and walked to the doorway, his right hand extended to Harry.
"Mr. Potter, welcome to Greengrass Manor! I'm Fabio Greengrass, may I introduce my wife, Kendra? And I think you know our daughters, Daphne and Astoria?"
Harry recognized Daphne. Astoria looked much the same as her sister, but instead of being blonde, she had a great pile of chestnut hair atop her head. His Hogwarts recollection of Astoria was even more vague than Daphne's.
"I'm honored to be invited to your home, Lord Greengrass," said Harry, "and Lady Greengrass. Miss Greengrass, and Miss Greengrass, very nice to see you both again."
"Mr. Potter," said Kendra, stepping forward to offer Harry her hand. "We appreciate the honorifics and your respect for tradition, but if you call us lord and lady, well, we'll have to do the same for you, and all that will get in the way of both lunch and conversation."
Harry chuckled as he reached out for Kendra's hand, holding the tips of her fingers between his right thumb and forefinger, raising it to his lips while holding Kendra's eyes with his own. He'd expected a quick, no-contact pass through the immediate vicinity of the area of his lips,only to find Kendra's hand, or more accurately, the knuckle of her right thumb, floated directly to them, giving them just the slightest brush. Harry was sure Kendra's eyes bobbled a little as she looked into his. Did she have trouble with depth perception?
"Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass it is then," said Harry. "I feel I have been embraced, and I will endeavor to be worthy of such gracious hospitality."
Daphne looked toward her sister, and she and Astoria rolled their eyes in unison. Kendra caught their exchange.
"Now, girls, allow me to experience some of the Gryffindor gallantry, it is, after all, legendary," Kendra said, smiling.
Harry looked between faces. "Dang," he thought, "did she just wink at me?"
"Well, let's get lunch underway, shall we?" asked Fabio. "Daphne, bring Mr. Potter, if you please?"
Daphne gave Harry a look. Harry smiled. He didn't know exactly what the look meant, but it was definitely a look, no doubt about it. He thought he heard a barely-audible snicker coming from Astoria's direction, as Daphne laid her hand lightly on his forearm.
Team Greengrass managed to convey Harry to a glass-topped table in a sunny corner of the sunny room, overlooking a stone patio and a long, sloping garden that ambled down to a stone fountain. Beyond the fountain was a level, closely-clipped lawn of considerable size. It gave the impression of being a playing field of some sort. Harry wondered what the Greengrass family played on the field.
"Such good luck with the weather today," said Kendra. "Greengrass Manor will look its best for you."
Harry spotted his place card, and noticed that it was next to one that said "Kendra." He pulled out Kendra's chair and pushed it forward as she sat down, then pulled out his own.
"Thank you, Mr. Potter," said Kendra. "Now we can chat."
"Mother, do you have to over lunch?" asked Daphne. "Perhaps Mr. Potter would like to start with a breadstick before you begin his interrogation."
Harry laughed. "It's quite alright. Believe me, I've had since I was eleven to get used to it. Is there anything in particular I can start with, to kick things off?"
"What's it like living, working, and running around London all the time?" asked Astoria. "What?" Three Greengrass faces turned her way. Harry was thrilled, though, because it was something he could talk about, without the conversation becoming "So, what was it like dueling Voldemort?" right from the start.
"It's fun," Harry said, "more fun than I anticipated. The work is serious and we have to take it seriously. There is a lot of it. There are genuinely bad wizards, I'm sorry to say. We have to mitigate the damage they do. Offsetting that, aurors don't spend all their time on crooks. We get involved in things like security for the Quidditch World Cup. When events like the muggle Olympics come to London, there are some very complex operations, handling the magical security side while staying in compliance with the secrecy standards. The magical security plan alone for those events takes a couple of years to pull together. Then we have to execute the plans, and when the event is over there is another one coming up and we start planning for that."
"I have to work out a lot, so that takes time. I see people I know at the Leaky Cauldron and Fortescue's. I like Hyde Park. I have a godson who lost his parents and I help his grandmother out with him. Once in a great while, some time off coincides with a Chelsea match, and I've been known to wear my blue."
"Chelsea?" asked Astoria.
"A muggle football club," said Daphne.
"Football?"
"Like quidditch, but the players stay on the ground, and they don't handle the quaffle with their hands. They kick it. With their feet. It's mind numbing. Imagine sitting and staring at dirt. Only, this dirt has people running around on it, chasing a quaffle, and when they catch up to the quaffle, they kick it. Tell me, Mr. Potter, do you equip yourself with a bunch of celery before going to the stadium?" asked Daphne.
Harry noticed that Daphne smiled sweetly when she asked about the celery. So, she had a sense of humor. He hadn't been sure about that.
"What about yourself and Mrs. Greengrass, sir?" asked Harry. "Any particular places you like in London? Or Paris, or I guess, Glasgow?"
"I like football, too," said Fabio, "but quidditch wins out for me. I recall watching you play for Gryffindor some years back. Great match, even if you did beat Slytherin that day."
Things continued in that fashion through soup, the kabobs that were the main dish, and the arrival of some small salads. Then Kendra asked Harry a question.
"Do you ever visit Godric's Hollow?"
"I was just there, on Halloween."
"Forgive me if I'm intruding," said Kendra. "We saw James and Lily there, before you were born. Lily and I were study partners from second year on. I've probably spent more time with Lily Evans than any other human being, except for my husband."
She looked across the table at Fabio, and smiled.
"You're not intruding," said Harry. "Quite the contrary. I don't have any actual memories of them. I've seen others' in a pensieve. People like Sirius, and you, who can tell me about them from firsthand experience, are rare. I appreciate, very much, the fact that you shared that with me. It was something I didn't know, couldn't know. Simple things children know about their parents are all missing for me, being orphaned at such an early age. Anything you had to tell me would, almost certainly, be new. I'd love to sit down sometime and have a dedicated conversation. You would be doing me a great kindness."
Astoria Greengrass pushed back her chair.
"Mother, may I be excused?" she looked at Harry, shrugged and said, "Duty," apparently by way of explanation.
"Of course, dear," said Kendra, turning her head, presenting her cheek for Astoria's kiss. "Enjoy yourself."
Harry thought he heard Astoria make the tiniest snorting sound at that.
"Father," said Astoria, and she gave Fabio a hug before leaving the sunny room.
Kendra looked over at Daphne and said, "Why don't you take Mr. Potter out for a look around the gardens, dear, and meet us at the gazebo in about twenty minutes? I'll have the elves serve dessert and coffee out there. It's such a beautiful day, it would be a shame to waste it, sitting indoors."
"As you wish, Mother," said Daphne. She gave Harry a look across the table, asking, "Shall we, Mr. Potter?"
"Lovely lunch, Mrs. Greengrass," said Harry, getting up from his chair. "We'll see you outside. Mr. Greengrass," Harry nodded toward Fabio.
Daphne stepped in front of Harry, opened the door to the patio, stepped through, and waited for him just outside.
"Thank-you, Miss Greengrass," said Harry.
"Not at all, Mr. Potter," said Daphne.
They crossed the patio to a set of stone steps leading down to a graveled path with flowered borders. Harry noted that a number of varieties had finished with their blossoms, but the geraniums were fully engaged, their blood-red petals and emerald leaves so intense, the colors seemed to surge out from deep inside.
"I've always liked the scent of geraniums," said Harry, before drawing in a deep breath through his nostrils. "It's so crisp."
"Mother thought you might. She mentioned it last week, as a matter of fact."
Harry pondered what Daphne had said. "Mother thought you might." What did that mean?
They had continued on down the path a bit, in silence, when Daphne reached up and gripped Harry's upper arm, hard. Harry took in a short, sharp breath, then turned his head toward Daphne. The pressure on his arm grew tighter. Daphne slowed, then turned her head toward the house. Harry saw her eyes moving slowly over the house and the part of the garden they had just passed. Satisfied that they were alone, apparently, Daphne turned her head back toward Harry, locking her eyes on his. Again, Harry felt her grip on his arm tighten. Merlin, the woman had python hands!
"Head Auror Potter," she nearly growled. "I'm going to ask you a question, and you will answer truthfully. Do you have any dishonorable plans or intentions toward my family? Are you using our parents' agreement to harm or disadvantage us in any way?"
Harry stood there looking at Daphne.
"Dr. Greengrass, I assure you I don't. I came to lunch at your parents' invitation, partly for the lunch and the chance to visit this lovely manor, but, really, I, ummm, wanted to see you again." The last part tapered off into a mumble.
"What?" asked Daphne, perhaps a little too loudly.
Harry licked his lips before focusing on Daphne's eyes. "I wanted to see you. I wanted to see YOU, again, Dr. Greengrass. And if this isn't the time to ask, you can tell me, but, what have I done to give cause for your asking such a question? Because if I have done something, you are obliged to tell me, so I don't do it again."
Daphne held Harry's eyes a little longer, then the tension went out of her face. She turned back toward the path, steering Harry with her.
"Something about you…affects Mother. She's kind of private, self-contained, always in control. She's always been like that, for as long as I remember. She's affectionate with Astoria and me, to a point. Makes us feel loved, we never doubted it, but she projects it outward, and she never, ever seems to be affected by emotion coming toward her. Our code name for her when we were little was Madame Ice."
Harry didn't know what that had to do with him, and said so.
"Oh, you wouldn't have noticed because you don't have a baseline like Astoria and I do. The woman is hot today. She's never hot. It started when you took her hand when we were all doing introductions. She has been pumping out pheromones all through lunch. She must feel like a wilted lettuce leaf. She's using her twenty minutes to change clothes, I'd bet a hundred galleons on it."
"Oh, and you can drop the doctor, please," Daphne added.
"Fine. Then I don't want to hear Head Auror again. Nor do I want to be Mr. Potter when I'm strolling in a manor house garden, on a clear autumn Saturday, with a beautiful woman, but I'll defer to you on when we make that change. And I'll see that hundred galleons."
Daphne laughed out loud. "Okay, Harry Potter, you're on! Now, how long have we been out here?"
"Maybe five or ten minutes, at the most."
"Good," said Daphne. "We don't have to hurry. The gazebo's just there."
"Daphne, I have a question I need to ask before your parents come back. What is your thinking about all this? To be frank, I expect we will have dessert, then Mrs. Greengrass will take you aside, to the kitchen, or some likely place, and your father will put his hand on my shoulder and steer me into his study, where he'll sit me down and gently give me guidance on why he and I should just pay the goblins and abrogate the Agreement. Then we'll 'see what the girls are up to' (quote signs with fingers), and we'll all say our good-byes and thank-you so much. Then we'll be standing in the foyer."
Daphne stopped once again, and turned toward Harry. She locked her eyes on his, as she had before. Time took a pause, and all the sounds in the world became silent while Harry was under Daphne's gaze.
"And?" she asked quietly.
"And," said Harry. "I came here thinking that was inevitable, maybe I was reconciled to it, but I don't want to do that. That's not at all what I want to do."
Daphne took the time to give him a little smile, before she said, "Thank-you, Harry, that is very kind of you."
They walked along the graveled path, slowly, in step, right…left…right…left, for a few more yards, before Harry spoke up.
"You haven't said whether you also expect that is what is going to happen."
They'd taken a few more steps when Daphne sighed. She seemed to be picking her words, then said,
"Life lesson, Harry: You can't expect a woman to show you all her cards as soon as they're dealt. What would be the point of playing the hand, if she did that? In truth, before you arrived, I believed Father was thinking that way. Now, though, he seems to like you, too. It's hard to tell. Let me ponder this. There may be a solution."
Harry cleared his throat. "Hmm-hmm, ahhh…Daphne?"
"Harry?" Daphne said with just a hint of giggle.
"Would you be pleased if we had an opportunity for a longer talk, just us, and some lunch, or dinner?"
"Oh, after waiting a couple of decades for you to become aware of the fact of my existence, would I welcome the opportunity for a longer talk? And a private one, at that. Oh, I might have to think that over before answering! You know, that brave, self-deprecating stuff has its time and place, I suppose, but this might be the time to tap your inner Slytherin (she gave him a poke in his sternum) and be a good bit more direct about what you want. I'll be looking for your owl, Harry."
Then, the hint of that growl, in, "Please do not disappoint me."
Harry almost said, "I'll do my best," but he caught himself.
Daphne navigated them to the gazebo just before Fabio and Kendra arrived, followed by house elves with a tray of some kind of wedges on small, delicate plates, some bowls of mixed berries, a tray with a container, presumably the coffee, sugar bowl and creamer, cups and saucers, and a pitcher of water and glasses. The last elf had a table cloth and some folded cloth napkins.
The elves were very efficient. Within a minute or two the table was set, the plates with the wedges (which turned out to be cheesecake) at each place with silverware, and the coffee ready for pouring.
"Thank-you, that will be all," Kendra said, dismissing the elves. "Who wants coffee? Mr. Potter?"
Harry looked at Kendra, and said, "Yes, please." Then he noted that the white blouse and black skirt she had been wearing at lunch had become a green polo over perfectly-tailored blue jeans. He chanced a quick look at Daphne.
Daphne looked back, and mouthed, "One hundred galleons," then pointed her finger at Harry, and back to herself. Chagrined at losing, Harry nonetheless thought the sight of Daphne pantomiming him paying up was genuinely funny, choked off the belly laugh he felt coming, and made himself cough.
"Everything okay, Mr. Potter?" asked Daphne.
"Must be the geraniums," said Harry from behind his napkin. "Do I see cheesecake?"
"Please have a seat and we'll start," said Fabio. "I do like cheesecake, and the elves have perfected it, if I may offer my opinion."
"Oh, we've been wondering," said Kendra, face straight.
"Indeed, Father, I didn't know that before today. Now we'll know what to ask the elves to make for your birthday," said Daphne.
Harry thought it all sounded like well-practiced dialog, with Fabio's proclivities providing fodder for Daphne and Kendra's indirect, deadpan ribbing. It sounded like George and Fred Weasley having a go at Percy, or pretty much anyone else who entered their field of vision. In the midst of the fun, Harry felt, as he often did in similar situations, the sharp stab of grief. He had missed out on all of those silly moments of family life, when people who genuinely like each other banter over cheesecake, or homemade sweaters, riffing on inside jokes and funny episodes of shared history.
Harry had been raised outside the magical community, except for his time at Hogwarts. Now he lived inside the magical community, where so much that happened did so because of intra- and extra-familial dynamics, blood ties, traditions, and business relationships with hidden dimensions. Harry had been given a start on understanding the sociological and psychological dynamics of the wizarding world through interactions with classmates, primarily the Weasleys and Neville Longbottom, but Harry missed out on so much by not having a family. He was feeling like it was time to do something about that, when Daphne's voice brought him out of his fugue.
"Father, something has been dropped in my lap, and I don't know what to do. I was hoping you could give me some advice."
"What kind of advice?" Fabio asked. He spooned a few more berries onto his plate.
"The St. Mungo's Ball is next Saturday, and there is a table for eight that is still unsold. There is a kind of informal assignment of responsibility for selling tickets and my department has been strongly encouraged to step up. You know how important the ball is to the annual fundraising. I'd really like to do something, but the individual seats are a thousand galleons."
"I guess we could go, don't you think, Kendra? We haven't been lately," Fabio said. "The ball is important, of course. What would we do without St. Mungo's, after all?
While Fabio was speaking, Daphne was doing a series of facial muscle movements while looking directly at Harry. What did she want?
"Oh," Harry thought, "My cue."
"Can I help?" Harry asked.
"Of course," said Daphne. "Can I put you down for a ticket?"
"If you would join me, you can put me down for two," said Harry. That got Kendra's attention.
"I believe we should definitely go, Fabio," said Kendra, who inclined her head, and gave Harry a tiny smile.
"That's four, I have a couple I'd like to take, and I don't think they're already down, so let me have two more. That makes six, so, two left," said Harry.
"Fabio," said Kendra.
"Kendra?" he answered.
"Let's treat Astoria," said Kendra. Turning to Daphne, she said, "Two more, Astoria and guest. That does it."
"Brilliant!" said Daphne. "Thank-you, Father!"
"Oh, yes, of course," said Fabio, looking a bit bedazzled, and unsure just what he had done.
"Everyone, I'm so sorry, but I'm out of time," said Harry, making a show of checking his watch. "I hope you will let me return your hospitality when we can all linger a bit more."
"Mr. Potter, that would be wonderful," said Kendra.
"I'd look forward to that," said Daphne, getting up. "If you're still enjoying your cheesecake, Father, I'm capable of getting Mr. Potter to the gate."
"Oh, well, if you'd like, your mother and I can enjoy this weather a bit longer. No telling how much more of it we'll get."
"Thank-you dear, that's very kind of you. And Mr. Potter, we will be seeing you at the St. Mungo's Ball, it appears," Kendra said holding out her hand as she stood up.
Harry took her fingertips, and gave them a squeeze, leaving out the kiss this time.
"It can't get here soon enough," said Harry, with a smile. "Mr. Greengrass, until the ball."
Daphne slipped her hand under Harry's arm and conveyed him up the path to the patio. An elf appeared at the door into the room where they had eaten lunch.
"Did you have a jacket? I don't remember," said Daphne.
"Nope, I came just as I am."
"Harry, you owe me one hundred galleons, I believe," said Daphne.
"I'm not carrying that much on me," said Harry. "I fear muggers see me as an easy mark."
"You're lying," laughed Daphne. "Big, muscular, aurors, who battle crooks on the street on a daily basis, live in fear of you. Rightfully so. You'll have to up your game if you plan to deceive me, Harry Potter, and when I catch you at it, which I will, my wrath will be legend."
"By the way, you were perfect back there. I have judged that you have potential."
"High praise," said Harry. "Is there actually an unsold table we just booked, or will the committee be learning about it on Monday?"
Daphne acted like she didn't hear him.
"You're now in a box," said Daphne. "You're all alone in there. No one else has made the grade, until now."
"A fact I will treasure, and keep to myself," said Harry. "Best to Raffles."
"He'll be informed," said Daphne.
They stood still before the gate, looking into each other's eyes.
"There is still some daylight," Harry breathed. "so, I will observe the proprieties, this once."
"So gallant, so…Gryffindor," Daphne said, her voice a whisper. "Darn it."
The gate swung open, saying, in its squeaky hinge voice, "Speaking for the entire Greengrass family, may I say, you were an out-STAND-ing guest, Mr. Potter, despite Miss Daphne's obvious and unseemly disappointment, and we look forward eagerly to your next visit. Buh-bye, and have a safe trip!"