Chapter Nineteen
A Magical Gift of The Most Exquisite Beauty
"And on that note," Daphne said, dropping her napkin next to her plate, and pushing her chair back.
"No cheesecake?" Harry asked.
"Maybe later," Daphne said, "with coffee. First a little stretching."
"After that heavy lunch," Harry responded.
"It's a marathon, not a sprint," Daphne said. "If you don't want to pay attention to your health, stick to quidditch players, don't get involved with a Healer."
"Now, I'm going to show you something very few people know about. Before he had to get so involved with business, Father had a keen interest in magical architecture," Daphne said, taking Harry's hand, "which he found an outlet for here at Greengrass Manor.
'He loved planning, drawing, writing up bills of materials, and he let me work alongside. He'd take out whole sections of things because I wanted to see something else there. He's a good magical architect. He excels, though, in magical landscape architecture. His buildings were beautiful, if a bit derivative. His magical landscape designs are otherworldly."
Daphne had taken Harry down the path, past the gazebo, to the clipped lawn that Harry thought was a family playing field.
"You wondered what this was here for," she said. "Care to make a guess?"
"The traditional Merlin's Birthday Greengrass Family Quidditch Match?" Harry offered.
"Potter. That's not even trying. Observe."
Daphne drew her wand.
"Revelio," she said with a wave.
The clipped green disappeared and was replaced by a lake. The lake was very wide, though it was just possible to see the far shore. Palm trees grew to astonishing heights, overhanging wide, sandy beaches. The water was cobalt blue, with just enough wave action to put little whitecaps all over the surface, where they were joined by reflected images of the puffy cumulus clouds that tracked slowly across the sky. Before them, a pier stuck out into the lake, ending about thirty feet beyond the shore, and finished with a cabana of bamboo and palm thatch. Waterfowl flew over the lake, and some ducks were paddling past the cabana, ducklings following.
Daphne started down the pier.
"Come see the cabana. It's my major contribution to the design. The rest is all Fabio." Daphne said, taking the lead.
Harry followed along, trying to take in details, but found it difficult. Hardest was imagining the green that had been here seconds before, transformed into a tropical dreamscape. When they reached the cabana, Harry saw that it was three-sided, with the side facing the lake open, except for sheer curtains hung from a rod. Daphne opened them with a wave of her wand. Ties sprang out from the corner posts and tied the curtains back.
Inside the cabana, two rattan sling chairs sat on a polished floor of twelve inch mahogany planks, each with a rattan side table. Benches fabricated from untrimmed planks ran along each wall. A hammock hung doubled from a corner column, ready to be stretched to a hook across the way. A bamboo bar stood ready for stocking. Above the benches were rows of wooden pegs, some with wooden hangars hung on them.
"Best place on the planet to settle down with a good book," Daphne said. "Swim?"
"It's November," Harry noted.
"Not in the magical Greengrass lake," Daphne advised.
Daphne took off her sweater and hung it up. This continued for a bit, until she had nothing left to remove. Harry was not sensitive to Daphne's growing frustration, immersed as he was in an unfamiliar, heady sensation, brought on by seeing, for the first time, Daphne Greengrass, just the way Nature made her.
"Potter. Are you still with us, or have you wandered off through time and forgotten to take your body?"
"Oh," Harry said, starting with pulling off his jacket, as a sort-of answer. When he was ready, Daphne turned toward the water.
"I always jump in, feet first. The water is deep enough for diving, I just don't care to. We'll swim out a bit so you can turn and look back at the manor. I'd advise leaving your glasses, but that is up to you. If you want to swim in them, climb down the ladder or the water will relieve you of them when you hit."
Then she stepped off the dock.
Harry decided to climb down so he'd have his glasses. That meant he had to swim with his head out of the water, but at least he'd be able to see the view of the manor Daphne described. When they reached the middle, Daphne turned toward the manor, took a deep breath, and rolled over and floated on her back. Harry did the same.
Harry couldn't tell if the manor was being magically enhanced somehow, but it did strike him as the most beautiful family home he had ever seen. Looking up from the lake, the main house appeared to float in air above the gardens covering the slope that fell away from the patio. The gazebo where Harry had had coffee and cheesecake with the Greengrasses also appeared from his angle to be floating, and Harry noticed for the first time that the design of the gazebo echoed that of the main house, so the two could have been parent and child, or older and younger siblings. The effect of such harmony and complementarity, combined with the floating effect Fabio had achieved appeared to have just naturally occurred, but Harry knew it couldn't have happened by accident.
"Glad I brought my glasses. I've never seen anything like this before," Harry said. "And you have to be right here to see it?"
"Yep. Father worked it all out in drawings ahead of time. He grew up in the house. It's really old. The hill isn't natural. Someone piled that soil up, so long ago, it's not possible to date it. After he finished school, Father started thinking about the gardens, the gazebo, where to lay out the beds, how to make it work together. I remember him outside working with the elves, day after day, for years. That was before he had to take the businesses in hand.
"He thought about the green, and the lake, and how the house and gardens would look from here, while he was doing all the other things. We'd come out here and stand on the flat ground staring up at the gardens and the house, and he'd make sketches. Then he'd ask me to look at them and tell him what I wanted added. Lots of unicorns and fairies and gauzy follies came and went. Then we'd move ten yards this way and that way and make adjustments.
"He already had a lake in mind, but he didn't have a plan. One day he asked me what a lake should look like, if there were one here. I sat down for a couple of hours and drew this, little kid style, not to scale, hardly a plan. He acted like I had brought him a full set of drawings for Olympus, or Valhalla. How he executed it is his secret. Magical landscape architecture, or some variation, is all anyone has ever been able to get out of him."
"Astoria and Tracey and I would swim out here and look up the hill, and talk about Fabio, the semi-divine mythical wizard genius. We might have been close to right."
Harry had been floating on his back, completely absorbed by the vision before him.
"I think you were. I certainly wouldn't disagree. My compliments to you both," Harry said. "I've never seen anything as beautiful as this, at least not anything made by humans."
"There is one more thing I need to show you," Daphne said, as she rolled over and struck out for shore.
Harry followed, swimming with strong strokes, but his breast stroke was inherently slower than Daphne's freestyle. She reached the shore and walked up on the beach. Waiting for Harry, Daphne pulled off the band that held her plait together, and shook out her hair. She stood looking out at Harry, who was still swimming in. The sight of Daphne all alone in the sunshine at the foot of the hill, sandy feet apart, hands on her hips, hair free, patiently waiting for him, stopped Harry still. When he stopped swimming, he started sinking, until water entered his nose and brought him back to reality.
Choking and spitting, Harry started to swim again, with choppy, uncoordinated strokes. All of his momentum and rhythm gone, he managed, somehow, to thrash himself in close enough to put his feet down on the sandy bottom of the lake.
"All right there, Head Auror?" Daphne asked, reaching out a hand to get Harry upright.
"Been worse," Harry said. "Been better, too."
"Accio wands!" Daphne said, and caught the two wands that came flying out of the cabana. "Here, you might as well take yours. I'm going to use mine."
"Now, you get to see something very, very secret," said Daphne. "Tracey and I found a book in the library and started working on ours in fourth year. Very obscure book, in a very obscure section, around back behind Madame Pince's desk. All the books 'of interest' to witches. No generic magic, Harry. That whole section was all by and for the sisters.
"Pince's desk, like everything at Hogwarts, is exactly where it is for a reason. Boys have no reason to wander in there so, of course, it was where the accomplished sixth and seventh years could take young, serious witches for our introduction to witchy playtime. Our friends, our magic. We worked together on lots of fun witch projects, with no house rivalries, no exams competition, no domination, no dragon slaying, no taking over the world. What do you suppose Granger did?" Daphne asked.
"Chaired the rune witch study group?" Harry speculated.
"Full marks," said Daphne. "Ever since second year, Granger has been the unquestioned, authoritative rune-witch, the Kendra Davis, of our generation. Tracey and I liked making things.
"This is mine," she said, with a wave of her wand.
Harry saw a portal appear ahead of them. The closer they got, the more familiar the land inside seemed. He could see woods with some serious trees, and some undergrowth, sunlight dappling the forest floor where the leaf cover was thick. At its thickest the forest was all blues and greens, while some distance away, Harry could see a sunny hillside meadow with a stone wall at the crest. Harry knew he'd seen the woods before, but he couldn't quite place them.
"I was feeling despair before last week, Harry. I'd given up hope you would ever chase me through our woods," said Daphne.
Wearing sandy feet, and a wand, Daphne stepped through the portal.
Harry stopped walking and looked at her. Once across the threshold of the portal, Daphne disappeared, replaced by a lynx. Harry froze. He wanted to move, but his muscles wouldn't respond. He felt pressure building behind his eyes, pushing against his eardrums from the inside out. Heart pounding, his respirations made bellows sounds as his lungs tried to expand past his chest's limits.
"Harry!" he heard. "It's all yours, but first you have to want it!"
The lynx turned, flicked its tail, and bounded away. Harry roared through the portal, and the stag gave chase. The lynx led, over downed trees, through brambles that tore scratches in the stag's face, nose, and eyes. The stag wasn't affected where its thick coat covered its skin, but the vines that ran across the forest floor grabbed its fine legs and tripped it again and again, until it tired and nearly stopped its pursuit.
The lynx changed direction, running through a less-dense area, occasionally looking back to see if the stag was keeping up. She found a game path, then broke into the open and sprinted toward the meadow. The stag, free of the obstacles, burst after her, snorting through its nose with each stride, ropy saliva trailing from the corners of its mouth, mixing with the blood on its coat. Halfway up the hill, the lynx turned around and faced the stag. The stag, stopped, lowered its head, put its antlers forward, and, pounding and punishing the turf with its fore-hooves, sent great chunks of sod and dirt flying backwards.
The lynx stood, balancing on her hind legs, and swatted the stag on the nose, switching from side to side. The stag lowered its antlers further, snorted and charged ahead. His antlers were closing on the lynx' unprotected belly, when the lynx danced aside, letting the stag charge past. The lynx executed a perfect jump forward as the stag's shoulder passed, landing on the stag's back and digging in with her claws. The stag snorted and sprinted away, the lynx standing up on his back, claws working deeper and deeper into muscle.
When the stag started to tire, the lynx freed her forepaws and batted the stag's ears, hard. The stag protested and the lynx unsheathed her claws and slapped left and right, left and right, until her paws were bloody and the stag's ears shredded. The stag responded, speeding up again, eventually reaching the stone wall, which it cleared with at least a yard to spare.
Beyond lay the ravine, which he had never jumped on his own, much less carrying another on his back. He must have held back, because the lynx showed no mercy, punishing the stag with her claws, growling encouragement into his ear. The stag leapt into the air, knowing in his heart and soul it was all or none, he would jump clean or both would lie broken together on the rocks below. When they landed on the other side, the lynx changed her position to lay flat against the stag's neck. She pushed the stag's head with her muzzle, steering him to a large tree with a hollow beneath its boll. There, she opened her mouth and laid her teeth against the back of the stag's neck, where neck met head, and bit down. The stag froze, and the lynx jumped to the ground. She slapped the stag's nose, and the stag danced back, raising its head. The lynx growled once, and jumped for the stag's throat, clamping down.
The stag stood, not resisting, neither trying to fight, nor run away. Seeing the end, he stood patiently, waiting for what he knew would come soon. The lynx kept her mouth clamped on his throat, paws on his neck, and, throwing her weight to one side, brought the bloodied, exhausted beast to the ground. His lungs emptied in one shuddering gasp, breath returning, barely, as a shallow pant. She detached herself from his throat and stood over him, looking down into the upward-looking eye. The eye showed no fear, no needs, no regrets. The stag lay still before the lynx' den, ready to love her decision, whatever that was. The lynx lay down beside the stag's head. She laid one paw on his jaw. She purred loudly, stuck out her tongue, and began cleaning the stag's wounds.
Harry had been dozing. He woke up and felt around for his glasses. Putting them on, he found he was lying on his back, on a blanket, in the sunshine, left arm around Daphne, whose head lay upon his chest, and whose finger was twirling ringlets in his chest hair. The top of her head was within range, so it seemed the gentlemanly thing to do, to kiss it.
"Mmm…" she said.
"What…" Harry started.
"Magic," Daphne explained, as if to a two-year-old. "But if you talk too much, the magic goes away. Wouldn't that be sad?"
"The saddest. Be careful. Never tell me too much, I couldn't bear it if it went away."
Things were quiet for several minutes, when Harry broke the silence.
"Legal?"
"Certainly, here on this blanket, outside the aurors' jurisdiction," she said.
"That ravine…" Harry looked into Daphne's eyes.
"Two souls, one fate, and you saved us both," Daphne said, "as I always knew you would."
"Two souls, one fate," Harry reflected. "Good."
They were quiet again. Harry rolled toward Daphne. He looked down and saw they were on a green blanket. He could see enough of the graphic in the middle to tell it was Salazar Slytherin's serpent, the same as the one she'd had Kreacher add to the green silk duvet in the master bedroom at #12 Grimmauld Place.
Daphne saw what Harry was looking at.
"Well, I started building it, from our dreams, in fourth year. That's the beauty of it, the mystery is I don't know what you or I dreamt, it's just ours. I had this Slytherin blanket so I stashed it here. Just a contingency. In case we ever wanted to spread it out on a sunny hillside, and…" Daphney thought over her next words…"and enjoy the lovely weather. Took me awhile."
"Well…we did get here, eventually. Don't mind the snake," Harry said, "nothing could spoil this. I don't think more beautiful magic is even possible. Except for one thing."
Daphne flinched, threw a leg over Harry and pushed herself up onto her knees, pinning his shoulders. She leaned on her arms, hard, driving him down with her weight.
"What one thing?" she growled, looking into his eyes. The amber flames were back, more intense than ever.
"Daphne Alexandra Greengrass. The only thing that could top this. It's a miracle I get to live in the same world as you…" Harry's voice trailed off.
Apparently, that was an acceptable response, because Daphne giggled and lifted her hands from his shoulders. Able to breathe normally again, Harry asked,
"Are we visible from the house?"
"No, Harry, you're being silly. The lake is magical landscape architecture, only visible to the people inside the boundaries, roughly ten feet back from where the sand ends and the vegetation begins. Where we are is inside those boundaries, in a bower. It's old magic, beyond old, really. The old witches made them, allegedly, to trap unwary kings and knights and rich merchants, to befuddle them, then bend them to their witchy will. Morgan le Fay is kind of the archetype, most likely modeled on someone even older.
"Once you get out of the legendary period, witches made them as a place to take a lover, or, to be very formal, a groom. 'Course, you're only a groom once per bride, so I suspect they brought their grooms back again and again, or it would be a terrible waste.
"Bowers require love to stay alive. Think of it as a garden. Love is the tool you use to keep it healthy. That is your job, by the way, if you're up to it."
Harry was lost in thought for some time.
He reached up and pulled Daphne's head down, and gave her a long, wet kiss.
"Feel free to correct me if I don't pay enough attention to the gardening," he said, "because I intend to garden with such skill I'll be mistaken for a Hufflepuff. Now, are you feeling cool? I believe I want to check the size of our bath tub. It looked big enough."
"Harry!"
"Any reason not to?" Harry asked.
The best Daphne could do for an answer was something inarticulate, but she got up, and when Harry got off of it, she picked up the Slytherin blanket and folded it neatly. When she was done, she tucked it under her arm and turned toward the portal.
They hadn't taken more than three or four steps when Daphne waved her wand in a semi-circle and the portal appeared, with the pier and cabana visible beyond.
Harry reached for her hand, pulling her to a stop. "I don't have words," he said, looking around.
"There might be more surprises, if you can be patient," Daphne said.
They got dressed in the cabana and walked to the furthest boundary of the garden. Daphne turned and waved her wand, and the lake, the pier, the cabana, the beaches and the palm trees popped out of existence, replaced by the clipped lawn.
Later, upstairs, Harry lay back in the tub, letting the hot water soak the chill away. Daphne raised one foot out of the water and put it on his chest.
"I knew it would be big enough," Harry said.
"I suppose aurors get habituated to sizing people up, height, weight, hair color, approximate age," Daphne said. "That would naturally lead to skill in estimating the size of container needed for a specific individual. Or individuals."
Harry didn't know quite what to think of that theory, so he occupied himself with an analysis of what was so incredibly fascinating about looking down to see Daphne's foot on his chest. He was just glad they'd confirmed the tub was big enough.
"Harry, how did you get that scar on your right arm?" Daphne asked.
"This one? Basilisk fang. Went right through the meaty part, when I stuck a sword up into the roof of the basilisk's mouth, and the fang stayed in my arm when I pulled the sword out. I used the fang to put an end to Tom Riddle's diary. Then I should have died, but Dumbledore's phoenix held his head over the wound and cried tears on it. You know phoenix tears can heal a number of things, just don't plan for one being around when you need it. I was very lucky.
"This is Voldemort's failed killing curse," he said, pushing his hair back, "someone told me it's the most famous scar in Britain. What a distinction. Dolores Umbridge gave me these, to remind me to be honest," Harry said, showing Daphne the back of his right hand. "She really just wanted to coerce us all into following Fudge's party line on Voldemort."
"This one is where the traitor Peter Pettigrew cut me for my blood, which he used to rebuild Voldemort's body, and the other stuff, the odds and ends, I'd have to think about each one."
Daphne leaned forward and put her cheek next to Harry's.
"My big, beautiful, magical stag, with all his battle scars," she mused. "Oh, I'm looking forward to taking much better care of you."
Harry was starting to feel the direction of Daphne's intent to take care of him, when the door to her bedroom burst open.
"Daph!" shouted Astoria, "Look at Seamus and Dean's…Oh, my sweet Uncle Merlin," Astoria semi-screamed. "Daphne, you're in the bathtub, with Harry Potter, and neither of you have any…"
"Oh, Astoria dear, you're back from shopping!" Daphne cooed, over her shoulder. "We were wondering how long you'd be, but we didn't think you'd be able to get everything done so soon, did we Mr. Potter?"
"No, indeed, Healer Greengrass, the Honorable Miss Astoria must be a very, very efficient shopper, no doubt she's following the example of her big sister," Harry said, desperately trying not to laugh.
Astoria seemed unable to move, and stood frozen in the doorway, shopping bags hanging from hands, wrists, and one elbow, looking from Daphne, to Harry, and back.
"Ahem?" Daphne cleared her throat, fixing her eyes on Astoria.
"Oh, well, I'll just be in my room. Packages. Pumpkin juice," Astoria stammered, turning back for one, last, wild-eyed look before dashing out of the doorway.
"I'll know if you send any owls before I catch up with you, Astoria, so exercise some discretion for once!" Daphne shouted after her. Laughter and the sound of lots of splashing followed Astoria until she arrived at her room. When they heard the door slam, Harry and Daphne said, "Oh, well," in unison, starting the laughter all over again.
"Didn't even get my hair washed," said Daphne, toweling off. "I'll go make sure she isn't in shock, you get dried off and dressed, and come on down. It's time for coffee and cheesecake anyway."
Daphne grabbed her bathrobe, pulling it on as she dashed out.
One by one, Harry and the Greengrass sisters convened in the sunny room. Astoria didn't appear to be in shock, Harry noticed, as he reclined on a chaise, looking out past the patio and gardens, watching the November shadows grow and grow.
"Daphne, I've come all the way down here to hug and kiss your boyfriend, and I don't want any backtalk," Astoria announced when she walked in.
"That's fine, Sweetie, just try not to damage him before he's had dessert," Daphne answered, as she and Trix put together a tray of cheesecake and coffee.
True to her word, Astoria knelt next to the chaise and crooked her arm around Harry's neck. Pulling his head to her, she kissed his cheek, then she rubbed her nose up and down next to his ear.
"Thank you for everything, Harry," she said, almost whispering. "Daphne is so smart and so good at what she does, I was afraid she would never find anyone who could keep up with her. She couldn't be with just anybody, and there is only one of you, and of course she'd never share. She looked so happy just now, up there with you. Now she'll finally have an outlet for all that love inside her. Even Draco says nice things about the two of you."
"Draco and I have been okay, the last ten years, as far as it goes," Harry said, "so now's as good a time as any to ask. Do you have any qualms about, whatever it's called, intra-familial relations, among the four of us?"
"Harry Potter, he credits you with saving him, me, and wizardry in general," Astoria said. "He doesn't know I know, but when you gave him back his wand, after you 'borrowed' it to do Voldemort, you got all the Malfoys. When he thinks no one is looking he'll draw it and sit there looking at it, like it's a sacred object. You owned Narcissa outright already, for saving his life. Lucius completely avoids the subject of Harry Potter because he can't speak ill of you. So convoluted, isn't it? Don't worry about the Malfoys, Harry. Draco loves me, I love Daphne, Daphne loves you; the Malfoys will play nice."
Daphne arrived with the cheesecake and coffee on a tray.
"Move!" she advised, and Harry swung his feet off the chaise, giving Daphne a place for the tray. The Greengrass sisters pulled chairs over, and all three picked up their coffees and looked out, down across the gardens to the green.
"Ah, Magic!" Harry said.
A Note to Readers: This concludes Part One of Wheels Within Wheels. Thank you to everyone who stayed with the story of Harry and Daphne and their friends, relatives and colleagues. The story continues on this site, if you haven't already noted the fact, in Part Two - Wheels Within Wheels. Best wishes to all the Harry & Daphne fans everywhere!