Chapter 4: A Shotgun Wedding

Harry and Daphne tiptoed down the hallway under the cover of his invisibility cloak, carefully feeling out each of the creaky wooden floorboards with their feet to make sure they didn't make a sound that would give away their position. There was a time when the two of them easily fit under the cloak. Now, she had to press into his side, shivering with arousal every time his arm brushed against her chest as they walked.

Harry knew what they were about to do was reckless. Come morning, it would cause a massive shitstorm and they'd have to answer for it. A part of him wanted to call it off, to do what he had done his entire life and let fate take the reins. Daphne's gentle hold on his wrist gave him courage, a reminder of what was at stake.

It had never been fate that held the reins. He had let Voldemort shape his entire life.

It was time to take back control. Remus Lupin had taken a lot of things from him, but he wouldn't let the man take away his opportunity to call Daphne his wife.

They slowly made their way down the stairs, sticking to the wall to ensure they didn't accidentally bump into someone coming the other way.

The pub was nearly deserted. Tom stood behind the bar, lazily wiping glasses and keeping an eye on the only customers that remained in case they needed something. Harry frowned at the sight of Mr. Weasley and Madame Bones sitting with Sirius, all three of them seemingly engrossed in a heated debate.

"How did you get past them?" Harry asked, turning to look at Daphne.

"I didn't. They weren't here when the Knight Bus dropped me off," Daphne murmured. "The only people in the pub when I got here were a wizard and a banshee."

"Alright, let's go." Harry finished their descent down the stairs, his turn towards the door behind the staircase that led to the entrance of Diagon Alley halted by Sirius angrily banging his fist against the table.

"He's my godson, Arthur. I don't need your tips on how to raise him," Sirius said, his voice colder than Harry had ever heard him be.

"I have seven kids of my own, Sirius," Mr. Weasley replied calmly. Harry was secretly thankful it was him and not his far more fiery wife having the conversation with Sirius. Had Molly Weasley been present, he was more than certain the discussion would have already devolved into a shouting match. "One of whom is now bound to Harry for life. So I think you won't mind it when I say I have a vested interest in his safety and well-being."

"And you really think sticking his head in the sand will keep him safe?"

"It will certainly keep him happier. He should be down here, celebrating his birthday instead of being up in his room mulling over what you told him. Dumbledore said-"

"Speaking of, I still can't believe you told Dumbledore, Lia," Sirius muttered, cutting Mr. Weasley off mid-speech.

"He's the Supreme Mugwump, Sirius. He's the only one with the power to convene Wizengamot for emergency sessions. I had to tell him."

Daphne pressed into Harry's side, just as curious about the conversation as he was. He slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest, both of them leaning against the banister of the staircase.

"As I was saying, Dumbledore said-" Mr. Weasley tried again, only to be cut off by Sirius once more.

"I have even less of an interest in following Dumbledore's advice after what happened last year, Arthur. The man may be a genius, but he acts like a troll when it comes to Harry and his upbringing. Both he and Fudge seem intent on treating Harry like he's eleven. I tried my best to give him a happy childhood or as happy a childhood as one can have after everything he's been through. But he's not a child anymore, Arthur. Treating him like one only puts him and the people around him in greater danger."

Mr. Weasley turned to look at Amelia, hoping she would back him up.

"I'm with Sirius on this one, Arthur. My boyfriend can be a reckless idiot, and Merlin knows his godson isn't any better at times, but Dumbledore's decisions have been growing rather questionable with time. Take your own daughter, for example. You know just as well as I do just how lucky she is to be alive."

"She's not fully alive though, is she? She's a thrall. She can never be independent of Harry. Now think how awful her life would be if Lucius had used that diary to bind her to him instead. Maybe that was his plan. Maybe he wanted to bind the children of all prominent wizarding houses to him through whatever remnant of Voldemort was in that diary." Sirius ignored the flinches from both Mr. Weasley and Amelia. "The point being, he should have closed the school. If he didn't want to do something that drastic, should at least have brought in someone actually competent to investigate the petrifications. Instead, he let Lockhart take point and Harry and Ginny nearly died as a result. I'm done giving him a say in Harry's upbringing."

Mr. Weasley sighed and slumped back in his chair. He didn't bother to argue any further. He took off his glasses and started to clean them with the edge of his sweater.

"How much have you told him?" Amelia asked.

"Almost all of it. The parts I haven't told him are the parts I didn't know about myself."

"Are you going to tell him about Hogwarts?"

Harry turned to look at the top of the stairs at the sound of wood thumping against the wooden floor.

"Shit," he swore, spotting Mad-Eye Moody making his way down the stairs. "We have to go Daph."

"What? No! They're talking about Hogwarts. We need to know!" Daphne hissed, but he had already wrapped his hand around her shoulder and was pulling her into the grimy backyard of the pub.

"That was Mad-Eye. His eye can see through my cloak. If we get caught, you can say goodbye to eloping," Harry explained calmly. "What's more important? Marrying me or eavesdropping?"

"Fuck, those are really hard options to choose from, daddy!" Daphne exclaimed, her inner Slytherin showing.

Harry chuckled. He pulled his wand out from the pocket of his jeans, tapping the third brick above the green bin before stepping back as the entrance to Diagon Alley was revealed. Harry wrapped an arm around Daphne's shoulder and pulled her into the deserted street. "Come on, my little viper. Let's get married."

They walked past the silent shops, quietly savoring each other's company. The only thing Daphne could see open was the All-Night Cafe next to Fortescue's, but other than the lonely witch manning its counter, they didn't encounter a soul until they rounded the corner and slipped through the arch that marked the entrance to Knockturn Alley.

Harry pulled the invisibility cloak away from their bodies, certain that they were unlikely to run into anyone who would recognize them in the lively street. Even if people had noticed them materialize out of thin air, nobody gave them a second look.

"Why do you think Dumbledore didn't want you to know about Lupin?" Daphne asked, steadfastly ignoring a squat wizard trying to sell her a jar of pickled newt eyes. That had to be what they had all been talking about.

"I guess he gave them all his usual spiel about wanting me to lead a normal life, only this time he found someone to actually buy into it. I'm sure Mr. Weasley has my best interests at heart, but Sirius is right. Keeping me in the dark about something like this just to spare my feelings only puts me and those around me in danger."

"Do you think he'll turn up at Hogwarts to try and finish what his master couldn't? Is that the information about Hogwarts that Sirius hasn't shared with you?"

"I'd hope Voldemort's top lieutenant is smarter than that." Daphne hissed quietly at the name, and they attracted more than a few hostile stares from the people who were close enough to hear his words. "If I had to bet, I'd say he's enjoying life as a free man on a sunny beach far away from Britain."

"I know everyone loves to say Hogwarts is the safest place in the world, but the last two years don't exactly support that statement, do they? In fact, they do the exact opposite. If they're any indication, he'll probably be waiting for you in your dormitory with a bloody butcher's knife," Daphne teased, deftly twisting to avoid a witch hawking fertility potions.

She scowled at the scantily clad blonde prostitute who had taken advantage of her momentary distraction and ambled over to Harry. "Hey handsome," she purred, caressing Harry's arm with her finger. To his credit, Harry kept his gaze fixed on her face instead of the woman's massive (and rather obviously potion-enhanced) breasts. "Are you looking for a good time? I'll be a much better ride than blondie over here."

Harry spluttered, turning to Daphne with slight panic in his eyes. To call Daphne Greengrass possessive was akin to saying water was wet. It was simply a fact of nature.

He still remembered what she'd done to Amy Larkin after she had tried to convince him to break off their marriage in favor of her.

"Oh sweetie," Daphne responded without losing a beat. Her voice was sugary sweet and dripping with venom. "I gave him such a good time that he's putting a ring on it and keeping me forever." Daphne wiggled her fingers. She leaned closer, as if she was gossiping with a good friend. "He's a Lord too," she whispered. "I guess some men, men with good taste that is, prefer real blondes with asses that aren't as flat as a washboard." She grinned as the smile disappeared from the woman's face once she had finally comprehended her veiled insult. "Oh, don't worry darling! There's a potion for that. I'm sure you're no stranger to such potions. Not all of us are lucky to be as blessed as I have been, after all." Daphne playfully smacked her arm.

Harry could see the bouncer of the brothel walk towards them and he tightened his hold on Daphne's hand, pulling her away before she incited a brawl in the street.

He pulled her through the crowds milling about in the alley, only pausing once they were a safe distance from the building and the whore and her minder were no longer in sight.

"You're incorrigible," Harry wheezed, doubling over and gasping for breath. Daphne wasn't faring much better, leaning into his side for support, her chest heaving as she labored to breathe.

"Just… marking my territory," Daphne mumbled, giving him an unabashed smile once she had recovered. She slipped her hand in his as he straightened, letting him lead her toward the spire visible in the distance.

"She thought you were a-"

"Whore, yeah."

"I'm-"

"Don't be. I was strangely flattered."

"Merlin, we're insane."

"Do you want to go back?" Daphne tried her best not to let the insecurity she had worked so hard to bury creep into her voice. A part of her always worried that she would be too boring, too tame, too inexperienced for Harry.

And now her father had given him a convenient way of getting out of marrying her.

"Not for anything in the world," Harry replied with quiet conviction.

He pulled the grinning girl into the rundown chapel. A couple stood in front of the altar, and so Harry moved to sit in the front pew, knowing they'd have to wait for their turn.

"The wizard and the banshee that were in the pub," Daphne whispered, nodding at the man and woman who were obviously waiting for something (or someone). The man had his forehead against the veiled woman's, whispering something to her as he caressed her hand.

"Alrighty," a portly man said, emerging from the door set in the wall behind the altar. He was wearing vestments a size smaller than was probably appropriate and reeked of bourbon. "Just the two couples today? Slow night."

"Not who I imagined conducting our wedding," Daphne whispered, hoisting her legs up on the wooden pew. She stretched out on the bench and laid her head on Harry's lap.

"Any regrets?" Harry buried his hand in her messy blonde hair, running his fingers through her curls.

"None. A donkey could marry us for all I care. Nothing matters as long as the marriage is legal." Daphne turned to press a kiss to his knee. "I want to be Mrs. Black. We can have our dream wedding anytime we want. Nothing in the rules that says we can't get married twice."

"That's true." Daphne frowned at the subdued tone of his voice. She gently hoisted her up into his lap, straddling him.

"Harry," she whispered, her gray eyes searching his gorgeous emerald orbs, trying to discern the source of his anguish. "If you don't want to marry me, you need to tell me before we go up there." She wasn't sure her heart could take hearing him say that, but she was sure as hell that it wouldn't be able to handle being dumped at the altar. "I will not be the girl who is dumped at the altar."

He cupped her cheeks, pulling her in for a bruising kiss that drove all doubt from her mind much more effectively than words ever could. He wanted her. He hungered for her. And yet, she sensed a hesitation within him that she didn't understand.

"Is it my father?" she asked softly.

"No, darling." Harry swiped his thumb over her swollen, throbbing lips, and Daphne had a sudden urge to trap it in her mouth and suck on it. "I'm just thinking about our encounter with that woman."

"I know it was wrong of me to stir up trouble in Knockturn Alley at this time of the hour. But that's one advantage of marriage, daddy," she murmured, giving him a shy smile. "When your wife acts like a brat, you get to do your duty as her husband and punish her."

"Punish you?" Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"You know you want to," Daphne murmured, trying her best to sound as sultry as the witch in the tawdry romance on WWN that had recently become one of her guilty pleasures.

"Maybe I do," Harry whispered, the back of his hand ghosting over the gentle curves of her body. Her eyes fluttered shut and she shivered, wishing for the tenth time that night for them to speed through the wedding so she could enjoy what came after. "But that's not what worries me, princess."

"What then?"

"Sirius told me there might be another marriage contract in my parents' will reading tomorrow. I may have to marry someone else in my capacity as Lord Potter."

"And you're worried it might be someone as vapid and shallow as that woman? The thought of marrying Pansy would put a damper on my spirits too," Daphne teased.

"That's… shit, I wasn't worried about that, but now I am," Harry mumbled.

"Don't worry. Your parents would have chosen well for you," Daphne murmured, resting her head on his shoulder and looking up at him with pure adoration etched on her face.

"You… don't mind?"

"I knew for a long time you'd marry someone else, Harry. It doesn't bother me. If it did, do you really think I'd take the effort to write to Ginny and try to be her friend?"

"That's different."

"How so?"

"I'm not sleeping with her and I'm not marrying her."

"You will, one day. She can never be your wife or Lady Potter, but I'll still be sharing you with her. Do I sound like I have a problem with that?"

"I… what… why would I make her sleep with me?"

"You won't make her do anything. She'll want to. You obviously find her beautiful. And, at the end of the day, you'll do it for her well-being."

"That's ass-backwards Daph, and you know it."

"Really?" Daphne lazily raised an eyebrow in challenge. "You promised to take care of her, did you not?"

"I did."

"Is forcibly making her stay a chaste virgin her entire life compatible with her physical and mental well-being?"

"She can sleep with whoever she wants."

"She's your thrall, daddy. She wants you." Daphne gently smacked his chest to drive home her point.

"If you don't have a problem with… me sleeping with others even after we marry," Harry started, only to be cut off by Daphne.

"I don't."

"Why did you react the way you did with that woman?"

"She was different," Daphne replied, echoing his words from earlier. "I don't… She thought she was superior to me. She wanted to take you from me. I don't mind sharing you, Harry, but if the future Lady Potter is someone who thinks she can take you from me, she and I are going to have some problems," Daphne mumbled, her lower lip trembling.

She didn't share the other reason she wasn't too bothered by Ginny. The redhead was just as inexperienced as she was when it came to all things sexual. What if his other wife was someone like Lavender Brown?

What if Harry grew tired of her inexperience and fumbling attempts to pleasure him and abandoned their marital bed entirely?

"Oh, darling." Harry wrapped an arm around her back, his hand resting on the back of her head. He cradled her body, turning to kiss her temple. "No matter who it is, I promise I will never leave you."

She wanted to believe him. Oh, she so desperately wanted to believe him.

"Promise?" she asked, her voice soft and vulnerable. To the world, she was the Ice Queen, the Viper of Slytherin. To him, she was a broken princess, clinging to whatever scraps of love and affection she could lay her hands on.

"Promise," he whispered, taking her hand and gently squeezing it.

"OI!" The romantic atmosphere was shattered in an instant by the priest's irate voice. "No humping in my chapel! You want to spend the night? I got a cot in the backroom. Twenty galleons an hour, non-negotiable."

"Uh… no thank you," Daphne blushed, quickly climbing off Harry's lap. She ran her hand down her overcoat, smoothening it before she started to work on fixing her hair. "We're just here to get married."

Prim. Proper. Presentable. Never forget the 3 P's she reminded herself.

"Well, come on then. I ain't got all night. Got the missus waiting for me," the priest said, summoning both of them to the altar with his hand. It was then that Daphne realized that the wizard and his banshee bride had already married and left, she and Harry being too engrossed with each other to even notice.

Daphne climbed up the steps and turned to face Harry, both of them sporting identical, nervous grins on their faces.

Daphne heard the rustle of papers and could see the priest pull out an official Ministry wedding form from the mess on his dais.

"Names?"

"Harry Po-"

"Black!" Daphne hissed, cutting him off before he could finish.

"Right. Harry Black," Harry said, correcting himself.

"Need your legal name if we want to do everything above board, son," the priest said, looking at the couple shrewdly. Daphne guessed he didn't particularly care either way and would happily do things 'under the table' for a substantial increase in his fees.

"That's my legal name. I'm the heir to two Houses," Harry explained.

"Must be a good life."

"It's alright," Harry answered nervously.

Did he honestly not know who Harry Potter was?

The greedy expression on his face left her with a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly who was standing in his chapel and that her father would find out about their wedding from the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Daphne Greengrass."

She watched him scribble the names onto the parchment, before dripping red wax near its lower right border. He fixed the official seal of the Department of Records on the molten wax, waiting for it to solidify before giving the document an affectionate pat.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife, yadda yadda yadda. You wanna say vows or some shit? Or exchange rings? We have an exquisite collection for sale if you don't have your own."

"No, thank you," Daphne muttered, suddenly eager to get out of the place. The look he was giving the two of them was unsettling.

"Thirty galleons," the man said gruffly, extending a grim palm.

Harry pulled out the money bag from his pocket and the man's eyes were fixed on the gold coins he was laying out. Daphne turned and grabbed the marriage certificate before the man could react or do anything to stop her.

"I can deposit that in the Department of Records for you tomorrow, darling." The way he said that word sent a shiver down Daphne's spine. "No extra charge."

"That's alright. I work there. I'll save you the trouble," Daphne lied, placing a warning hand on Harry's arm. He was perceptive enough to take the hint, wordlessly laying out the rest of the payment before following her out of the chapel.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry asked, gently grabbing her wrist and pulling her into his side.

"I'm not leaving anything to chance, dearest husband," Daphne mumbled into his chest, feeling giddy with happiness despite the fact that they were still in front of the chapel. "This is the proof that we are married, and I'm holding on to it."

"What now?" Harry asked as the two exited Knockturn Alley in favor of the quiet serenity of Diagon Alley as fast as they could.

"Now," Daphne murmured, glad that the dark moonless night was hiding the heavy blush on her cheeks. "You take me back to your room and make me a woman."

Harry and Daphne's dynamic is all flirt and banter but there's a deep love there too. I have cool Daphne artwork on my blog, check it out through the link in my bio! Her FC picture is on there too!