The Calm After The Storm
Chapter Five - Pages of Progress: A Literary Yule Soiree
In the heart of the Greengrass family's home, a bright and inviting kitchen revealed itself. It boasted pale Chartwell green cabinets with oak tops, lovingly maintained, which exuded a sense of warmth. Sunlight streamed in through two large windows, casting a gentle glow over the room and the occupants within.
"By Merlin, he's done it!" The exuberant declaration from the living room rippled through the tranquil kitchen space, causing the preparations for a morning pot of peppermint tea and a hearty bowl of honeyed oats to pause.
Astoria, the youngest Greengrass sibling, could hardly contain her excitement as she sprinted into the kitchen. Clutched in her hands, she held a copy of the Daily Prophet high above her head, her vivacious energy filling the room.
The parents, engaged in the quiet pleasure of savoring buttered toast at the kitchen table, turned their heads with a sense of curiosity, echoing the surprise mirrored on Daphne's face. They all awaited an explanation.
With a mouthful of toast, Daphne's father, with his deep, resonant voice, finally asked, "Who did what, dear?" His voice carried a touch of bemusement. Astoria, unable to contain her excitement, rushed to the breakfast table, tossing the newspaper down with a flourish.
Daphne, along with her mother and father, leaned in to peruse the headline with a sense of wonder, her eyes widening in disbelief.
Formal Apology and Retraction
We, the staff of the Daily Prophet, sincerely apologize for our recent article regarding Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Daphne Greengrass, which appeared in our publication.
Upon careful review and examination, it has become clear that the said article contained misleading information, unfounded accusations, and baseless assumptions, which have cast unnecessary doubt and concern upon the lives and reputations of Mr. Potter and Miss Greengrass.
We deeply regret any harm that our article may have caused, especially in a time when the Wizarding world is recovering from the recent conflicts and working towards unity and healing. Our primary aim as journalists is to provide accurate and fair news to our readers, and we acknowledge that we fell short of this responsibility in this particular instance.
Mr. Harry Potter, who provided substantial evidence disproving the claims made in the article, has urged us to address this matter and to rectify the harm done. We commend Mr. Potter for his integrity and his commitment to the truth.
In light of the inaccuracies in our original article and to uphold the principles of responsible journalism, we have decided to issue this formal apology and retraction. It is our sincerest hope that this action will help restore the faith of our readers in our commitment to honest and unbiased reporting.
We also announce the removal of Rita Skeeter from her position as a Daily Prophet correspondent, due to her involvement in the publication of the aforementioned article.
We extend our apologies to Mr. Potter, Miss Greengrass, and our readers for our failure to uphold the standards we have always sought to maintain. It is our firm resolve to learn from this incident and strive for excellence in our future reporting.
Signed,
Madeline Prewett
Editor-in-Chief, The Daily Prophet
"Steeker's out of a job, thanks to him!" Astoria's voice was laced with amusement, a hint of incredulity that resonated with Daphne. She'd anticipated a different headline, one that accused Harry of meddling with freedom of the press. Yet, Rita had apparently pushed her boundaries too far, and accountability had caught up with her. It wouldn't completely shift public opinion, but it was a step toward relief.
Her father, sensing an opportunity to tease, chimed in as he referenced Harry's name being mentioned. His eyes met Daphne's with a knowing, gentle look that she did her best not to react to. "Seems I've underestimated Mr. Potter's abilities on more than one occasion," he admitted with a smile.
Isabella, never one to let such moments pass, added her own playful remark. "Happens to the best of us, darling," she replied, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips.
Astoria, with a mischievous glint in her eye, pressed the matter further, her words tinged with innocence. "So, Daphne, any plans to write letters today? Perhaps delve into a book?" Daphne, fully aware of her sister's penchant for prying, fixed her with a pointed glare.
Her mother, never one to be outdone, decided to have her say, adding a touch of mischievous betrayal to the mix. "Returning a scarf, maybe?" she suggested with a twinkle in her eye. Astoria, perhaps finding this exchange highly entertaining, erupted into a fit of laughter.
Daphne, growing increasingly exasperated, decided to end the inquisition. "Are you quite finished?" she inquired, her tone carrying a heavy dose of deadpan sarcasm.
Her father, ever the mediator, stepped in to shield her. "Leave the poor girl alone," he began, coming to her defense.
Daphne, appreciating her father's intervention, nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Father."
But then he delivered the final blow, bringing a deep blush to her cheeks. "She's probably been pondering the sound of 'Mrs. Potter' for the last minute or so."
The room erupted in laughter, with Astoria's cackles leading the way. Daphne, her patience stretched to the limit, couldn't help but roll her eyes. "You know what, I think I'll have breakfast elsewhere today," she declared, her voice filled with exasperation.
"Daphne, darling, we are only joking," her mother's voice called after her as she retreated. "We know Potter is only a recent friend. Do offer our thanks for what he did, however."
Daphne acknowledged her mother's words with a nod but chose not to respond. With a tray bearing her tea and breakfast in hand, she headed to her room, her footsteps echoing in the hallway. The truth was that their teasing had more merit than she wanted to admit, and that was precisely what was bothering her. She had only really met him a little over a week ago, and yet, the man was occupying her thoughts more and more, especially after the night before when he had come to their home to ensure she and her family were alright.
It was too soon to be feeling this way, wasn't it? It was just gratitude, surely? That, and their shared interest in books, were enhancing the connection, nothing more. But as Daphne sat down with her breakfast, her mind wandered back to the memory of Harry's warm smile and the touch of his lips on her hand, leaving her to wonder if there was something more to it after all.
Daphne took a contemplative sip of her tea, her thoughts swirling like the steam rising from the cup. The events of the past week had stirred feelings in her that she couldn't quite define. With a faint, uncertain frown, she pondered her own romantic inexperience.
In all her seventeen years, she had never ventured into the realm of romance or affection. Her interactions with the opposite sex were usually restricted to formal gatherings, social events, and the occasional polite conversation with pure-blood gentlemen. As a member of the pure-blood elite, she had been groomed to maintain the family's reputation and uphold traditions, rather than to explore her personal desires.
The lack of romantic encounters in her life had kept her emotions neatly compartmentalized. It was a world of order, control, and decorum that she understood well. But Harry had arrived like an unexpected gust of wind, disrupting the carefully arranged pieces of her life. He was different, both in his actions and his personality, and she couldn't deny that he intrigued her.
She took another bite of her honeyed oats, the sweetness contrasting with the bittersweet taste of her own thoughts. Daphne contemplated the swirl of emotions she had felt recently—gratitude, curiosity, admiration, and the subtle excitement of Harry's presence. As she explored her own feelings, she couldn't help but wonder if her lack of romantic experience was causing the internal conflict she was experiencing.
"Is it just the fascination of the unknown?" she mused softly to herself, setting her spoon down. "Or is it something more?"
With practiced ease she began to draft a letter to him, to thank him for what he had done.
Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. I wanted to take a moment to express my heartfelt admiration for whatever extraordinary measures you took to bring about the formal apology from the Daily Prophet.
It was with great surprise and immense relief that we read the headline about Rita Skeeter's departure and the Prophet's formal apology. I must admit that, like my family, I had anticipated a different headline altogether, perhaps one maligning your actions and intentions.
Your ability to not only navigate but influence the convoluted world of media and journalism is truly awe-inspiring. Your unwavering commitment to setting the record straight and protecting my reputation and yours speaks volumes about your character. I am deeply touched by your actions, Harry, and I want you to know how immensely grateful my family and I are.
Thank you, Harry, for not only coming to our home to address the situation but also for being the honorable, considerate, and remarkable person that you are.
With the utmost respect and heartfelt gratitude,
Daphne Greengrass
P.S. - I am about to read the chapters relating to Helm's Deep in "The Two Towers." I look forward to sharing my views on this once I've completed it.
After carefully sealing the letter, Daphne penned an address on the envelope and summoned their family owl, a majestic and well-trained snowy owl named Luna. She attached the letter securely to Luna's leg and watched the owl take flight, disappearing into the sky on her mission to deliver the note.
With the letter dispatched, Daphne had another matter to attend to. Her father had a pre-scheduled meeting with one of their clients, and she was expected to join him. It was a regular occurrence, a weekly commitment that allowed her to gain valuable insights into the intricate world of wizarding business.
As she left her room, Daphne made sure her attire was appropriate for the meeting. She wore a tasteful but stylish dark green robe over her smartly tailored robes. Her mother, a seasoned hostess who often accompanied them to these meetings, had already departed, leaving Daphne and her father to continue this weekly tradition. Daphne adjusted her robes and felt confident to attend her fathers business meeting.
The meeting concluded after a few hours with the Greengrass family client, and once it was over, Daphne left her father to handle the necessary follow-up. She apparated her way to Diagon Alley to meet her friends, Susan, Lisa, Hannah, and Tracey for their weekly get together. Daphne pondered the upcoming get together with her friends as she buttoned up her emerald green robes to ward off the winter chill. As much as her growing connection with Harry was important, she knew her friends would want to question everything so far, she was keen not to be reduced to the women Harry Potter was with. She wanted her identity to be independent of any such association.
The atmosphere in the bustling bar was lively as Daphne entered their usual meeting place. The low hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and the occasional burst of laughter filled the air. Ignoring the curious glances and hushed conversations from other patrons, Daphne wove her way through the crowd to find her friends. They occupied their regular corner of the bar, and Tracey was quick to spot her, waving her over with a welcoming grin.
Daphne greeted them with a warm smile as she settled into her usual seat and placed her bag on the table. "Good evening, everyone."
Hannah, seated at the opposite end of the table, leaned forward with interest. "Hi Daphne, how did the meeting go with your father?"
Tracey took the opportunity to slide a glass of Daphne's preferred red wine within her reach, the rich, crimson liquid glistening in the dim bar's lighting.
"It was quite fruitful," Daphne replied, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "The tenant has signed on for another ten years, which is reassuring. It's always a relief to have some stability in these negotiations." Her work had given her a sense of accomplishment, and she could sense her father's pride in her efforts.
Lisa, the ever-curious one of the group, leaned in, her eyes bright with interest. "Did you have a hand in the negotiations?"
Daphne took a thoughtful sip of her wine, savoring the familiar taste. "Well, not in the room, but I prepared the agenda and briefing. My father mostly followed my notes after some edits, of course." She spoke with a sense of modest pride, pleased with her contributions to the business discussion.
"To the future owner of the Greengrass property empire" Tracey cheered with a playful smile.
Hannah, recently back from her job at the Ministry, leaned back in her chair with a sigh of relief. "Work was relentless today. Honestly, I'm convinced the paperwork multiplies when I'm not looking."
Lisa, the passionate healer from St. Mungo's, nodded sympathetically. "I hear you, Hannah. The patients just keep pouring in, and this week's been especially busy with all those Quidditch injuries. It's like the Harpies decided to break every bone they could."
Tracey, the adventurous spirit of the group, couldn't help but smirk. "Well, on the bright side, my newest shipment of exotic potion ingredients arrived today. I've got some fascinating experiments planned for the weekend."
Hannah's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "You promise there won't be any sudden visits to St. Mungo's because of your concoctions?"
Tracey chuckled, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "Don't worry, Hannah. The only explosions you'll hear are coming from my cauldron, and they're all under control."
As the conversation naturally drifted from work to family, they each shared the daily joys and occasional frustrations of their personal lives. From family gatherings and their parents' advice to plans for upcoming trips, the group exchanged stories and support.
Susan, who had been silent for a moment, chimed in, her voice tinged with a mix of weariness and pride. "We had a challenging raid today with the team. Things didn't go exactly as planned, but we managed to secure the target in the end."
Hannah immediately perked up, showing her unwavering support. "I'm glad you're okay, Susan. You always handle those missions like a pro."
While Daphne could tell that her friends were itching to dig about the recent events in the paper, it was refreshing to catch up on their individual lives, enjoy each other's company, and relish the moments that defined their friendship. However there was only so long that Tracey of all people could hold her tongue.
"So, has anyone seen anything of interest in the Prophet recently" she asked innocently. Daphne braced herself for the questions.
"Umm, I think I saw something about tax increases" Lisa casually replied.
"Oh wasn't there that article about the niffler who broke into the Bank of England?" Hannah added. Daphne watched the scene play out, she chanced a glance at Tracey who looked like she was about to explode, before she reached into her bag and threw the last two issues of the wretched paper on the table.
"You and Potter? Spill it" she practically shrieked.
Susan, always practical and considerate, raised an eyebrow and gestured to the crowded bar. Her wand appeared in her hand, and she made a few intricate movements, casting a privacy charm. "Privacy charm," she explained, ensuring their conversation remained confidential.
Daphne appreciated the gesture and expressed her gratitude with a warm smile. "Thank you, Susan."
With the protection of their privacy assured, Lisa couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "When did you and Potter get cozy?" she asked, her tone filled with intrigue.
Daphne took a sip of her wine, gathering her thoughts before recounting the story of her growing connection with Harry Potter.
"It all started with our shared love for books," she began, her voice carrying a trace of fondness. "I met him at Flourish and Blotts, of all places. He was there to buy a book, and we started talking about our favorite authors and novels. It was so easy to talk to him, and the more we chatted, the more I wanted too."
As she spoke, Daphne's friends listened attentively, their faces reflecting various levels of surprise and intrigue.
"He's more than the 'Boy Who Lived.' He's compassionate, and incredibly considerate. The way he handled the Daily Prophet article and Skeeter was impressive."
Hannah chimed in with a teasing smile. "Impressive, huh? Sounds like someone's impressed."
Daphne blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
"Are you blushing?" Tracey asked.
"No" Daphne replied a little to quickly.
"I know Harry was apocalyptic when he saw that article" Susan replied coming to her rescue, "Honestly I have seen him when dueling against some of the remaining death eaters and snatchers and even then I did see him that angry"
Daphne couldn't help but feel guilt that the Prophet again had used her to try and write stories about Harry.
"I am surprised they retracted so quickly, thats not in keeping with them at all" Hannah added her thoughts.
"Harry has some pretty hefty leverage on Rita, that and he didn't just go after them over the picture with Daphne, you know that the hack of a reporter has had it in for Harry since the triwizard event and the articles since the war have been frankly unacceptable" Susan replied, her anger on her partners behalf palpable.
"Well the article about his break up with Ginny was nasty, dont get me wrong she did screw up but sticking the knife in like they did, and then the story where she try to say he was gay!" Lisa added.
Daphne felt her family should have withdrawn investment a long time ago, she often ignored the rag of a paper but hearing the stories from her friends made her even more angry on Harry's behalf.
"So do you .. like him?" Hannah asked, there was no teasing in her tone this time.
She leaned in, her voice low, and her tone decidedly un-sappy. "You know, it's all a bit... surprising."
The other girls leaned in, their expressions eager for more details.
Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Surprising? How so?"
Daphne took another sip of her wine, trying to find the right words to express her mixed emotions. "I mean, he's a great friend, and we went out to lunch that day. Our connection is undeniable, and we're both passionate about books. But sometimes, I find myself wondering... have my feelings developed too quickly? If I admit to myself, there is an attraction to him there"
Well, she admitted it.
Lisa nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. "It's not unusual, Daphne. When there's a natural connection, feelings can grow faster than you might expect. With Terry I fell pretty quickly for him"
Daphne appreciated her friend's understanding. "Exactly. I've never been in a romantic relationship before, so it's all new to me. It's not about sweeping declarations or anything like that. It's just... surprising. I've never fussed about men before"
Susan chimed in with a smirk. "Well, what are you planning to do about it?"
Daphne shrugged, her expression a mix of uncertainty and determination. "I don't know. I think I'll take it one step at a time.. After all, it's Harry Potter, and who knows what possibilities lie ahead for us?"
"Why don't you go to the Yule Party together?" she suggested.
Daphne immediately raised her defenses. "I don't even know if he feels the same way, Tracey."
Her friend leaned forward, unwavering. "Then ask."
Daphne looked puzzled. "Just casually ask him if he fancies me?"
Tracey nodded. "Why not?"
Daphne hesitated. "Because that's not the done thing, Tracey."
Tracey scoffed, her disregard for tradition evident. "Oh, sod the 'done thing.' If you like someone, just tell them."
Hannah, always the voice of reason, chimed in to ease the tension. "It's not that straightforward for Daphne, and you know it, Tracey."
Tracey turned to Susan, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Susan, you know Harry. Is he sweet on Daphne?"
Susan seemed conflicted, her eyes darting from Tracey to Daphne. She hesitated before finally responding, "It's not my place to say."
Daphne jumped in, wanting to spare Susan any discomfort. "Susan, you don't need to say anything."
Tracey, however, wasn't one to be easily deterred. She swiftly put the pieces together. "That's a yes, then," she summarised with a grin.
"Tracey, don't push it," Daphne cautioned gently.
"Harry is very sensitive about trust. If he thought I was telling you all things that were personal, he would be very unhappy with me," Susan added.
"Well, my advice, Daphne, is you speak to him. Mum always says to me it's what you don't do in life that you regret the most," Tracey contributed.
The conversation shifted away from the topic, but Daphne couldn't help but mull over Tracey's advice.
Daphne arrived home later that evening, her steps a tad lighter than usual. The evening with her friends had been enjoyable, fueled by wine and laughter, but it had left her with thoughts swirling in her mind. As she made her way through the elegant corridor towards her bedroom, she debated whether it was the right time to ask Harry to the Yule Party. While her mind remained somewhat clouded by the wine, she was determined to handle this decision with grace and elegance.
Upon entering her lavishly appointed bedroom, she was momentarily captivated by the soft, dim lighting cast by the delicate crystal chandelier above. Her dressing table, adorned with a silver mirror and intricate details, beckoned her closer. As she approached, her eyes landed on a letter placed neatly beside her silver-backed hairbrush.
Curiosity piqued, Daphne reached for the letter and carefully opened it. The contents, written with refined penmanship, began to unfold before her. The familiar and pleasing scent of oak and spiced apple could be smelt on the paper.
Dear Daphne,
I hope this letter finds you in the finest of spirits. I am truly delighted to hear of your relief and gratitude, though I must admit I did it with the best interests of both of our reputations in mind. Whilst Rita has been removed and the Prophet has apologised I would be naive to assume that is the last I will hear of her, however I imagine she will be licking her wounds for a while.
Your appreciation is deeply cherished, and I'm grateful that our paths have crossed in such a remarkable way. The honor and pleasure were all mine, Daphne, and I am thankful for the time we've spent together.
In light of our recent endeavors and with your consent, I would like to extend an invitation to you. The Ministry Yule Party is approaching, and if I am honest I have enjoyed our brief time together greatly and would be honored if you would join me at this event.
Please consider my invitation, but do know there's no pressure or expectation. Your happiness remains my foremost concern.
With heartfelt warmth and respect,
Harry Potter
P.S. If you accept, I promise to keep the dance floor free of enchantments, and the evening free of undue surprises.
Daphne blinked at the letter, her heart quickening. This unexpected invitation, penned with such charm and warmth, sent a surge of excitement through her. She could hardly contain her joy as she considered Harry's proposal, which not only touched her heart but solidified her burgeoning feelings for him.
Daphne sat at her dressing table, the soft, warm glow of the dim light filling her bedroom. She had just finished reading Harry's letter, and a feeling of contentment washed over her. The invitation to the Ministry Yule Party had deeply touched her, and the genuine warmth of his words made her heart flutter, leaving her with a sense of giddiness that was hard to contain.
As she carefully folded the letter and placed it in a wooden box that held her most cherished keepsakes, Daphne couldn't help but replay the words in her mind. The thought of attending the Yule Party by Harry's side filled her with excitement and anticipation. She knew her mother and sister were planning to buy their dresses for the event in the coming days, and now she felt a renewed enthusiasm for her own preparations. She pondered her reply, wanting to convey her enthusiasm without appearing overly eager. Of course, she would accept the invitation, and she planned to confirm the details and inquire about the colors he was considering. While she held deep loyalty to her own house, Slytherin, she wondered if Harry might prefer another colour theme, she hoped it wasn't red and gold however, maybe Harry would want to avoid red due to his work robes.
With a contented sigh, Daphne rose from her chair and moved to her bed. She quickly changed into her silk pajamas and slipped under the covers. The day's events had taken their toll, but her heart was light with joy. As she settled into her soft, inviting bed, she couldn't help but smile.
As her eyes grew heavy, Daphne thought about Harry, about the letters, the apologies, the laughter, and the growing connection between them. Her last conscious thought was of the Ministry Yule Party and the promise of a memorable evening. It was a thought that carried her into a peaceful and dream-filled sleep.
…
End of Chapter
Slightly shorter, but it's the springboard for the remainder of the story. I am ensuring to be mindful of the bechdel test for Daphne!
Once again the support is lovely, thank you and I look forward to your thoughts.
Also, dont get used to daily updates, I am moving home tomorrow so there may be a few days between updates for now.