The Calm After The Storm
Chapter Six - Turn the Pages of Thy Heart
Harry completed his task with a focused determination, reviewing the details in his report one last time before sealing it with his signature as the arresting Auror. Quintus Crabbe, a name that now held a bitter significance in the aftermath of the war, was the latest Death Eater to face justice.
It was a personal triumph for Harry. He had cornered the fleeing, cowardly wizard who had once proudly brandished the Dark Mark. In their final confrontation, Harry had decisively shattered the man's wand with a precise spell, an act that may have inadvertently shattered his hand as well. The irony was not lost on Harry; even in their shattered and leaderless state, these remnants of Voldemort's followers clung to their despicable ideologies. They continued to spew their venomous cries, ignorant of the fact that they had been defeated by the very people they had considered beneath them.
Fortunately, justice was now served through a different avenue. The fate of former Death Eaters lay in their trials, a means to confirm their identities and previous affiliations before they were condemned to pass through the unforgiving veil of death itself.
Having completed his report, Harry carefully affixed his official Auror seal to the parchment. With a swift, practiced motion, he placed it into the waiting, enchanted tube that connected his desk to the Head Auror's office. The tube would whisk the report away for review, and he felt a sense of satisfaction in yet another task completed.
As the parchment vanished into the tube, his thoughts couldn't help but drift back to the letter he had received earlier that morning. It had brought a smile to his face and put him in an exceptionally good mood.
Dear Harry,
I hope this letter finds you well. I wanted to express my heartfelt gratitude for your kind invitation to the Ministry Yule Party. I'm absolutely thrilled to accept, and I'm genuinely looking forward to attending the event with you.
Before we step into the festivities, I wanted to ask about the colours you'll be wearing to the event. Just to ensure that we complement each other perfectly, or more importantly don't clash. I'm open to suggestions, of course, and I'm sure whatever you choose will be splendid.
Once again, Harry, thank you for your gracious invitation, and I eagerly anticipate a magical evening.
Yours,
Daphne Greengrass
The change at the end of the letter was quite telling – "yours." Harry, who had often been accused of being a bit dense when it came to women, couldn't miss the significance of that simple word.
"Harry," he heard the familiar voice of Susan. He swiveled around in his chair, grinning at his friend.
"Susan, I just finished the report on Crabbe," he said with a smile.
"Glad that's over with, also glad you shattered his hand in the process, although Dwight is complaining about the paperwork for that again," she chuckled.
"Sorry, put a little too much power into the spell."
"An auror who can't control the strength of his spell, well well, are you sure you're in the right post, Harry?" she smirked. Susan's expression turned more serious. She glanced around the busy Auror office and then turned back to Harry.
"Harry, can we speak in private for a moment?" Susan asked, her voice low and concerned.
"Of course, Susan," Harry replied, gently pushing himself away from his cluttered desk. He followed Susan's lead as she led the way to one of the Ministry's small, private offices. The room was dimly lit, with heavy curtains drawn to block out the chaos of the main Auror office. The space had an air of seriousness, with simple wooden furniture and a few Auror manuals neatly arranged on a shelf.
Once they were inside and the door was securely closed, Susan turned to face Harry. Her expression, typically confident and unwavering, now held a hint of uncertainty. Harry, his curiosity piqued, furrowed his brow.
"Harry, I wanted to talk to you about something important," Susan began. She hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room, as if seeking reassurance from the space itself.
Harry's concern deepened as he watched Susan. "What's going on, Susan?"
She took a deep breath before addressing the matter at hand. "You and Daphne," she began.
Harry raised an eyebrow, feeling a hint of confusion. "Right, what about Daphne and I?" he replied, not entirely certain how he should be feeling at that moment.
"I need to know if this is... I can't believe I'm asking this, is this a passing fancy for you?" Susan's words hung in the air, her eyes searching for a response.
Harry's brows furrowed as he processed her question. "Susan, you know I'm not like that," he protested gently. He didn't understand why she was questioning his intentions.
Susan nodded, her eyes closing briefly as she gathered her thoughts. "I know that, Harry, but you and Daphne come from very different worlds. I don't know how much you know about her past, but she hasn't been involved with anyone, and her going with you to the Yule Party will inevitably cause a reaction, if you were to…"
"You think I just want to sleep with her and move on?" Harry interrupted, his tone sharp, a surge of hot anger coursing through him.
"No! Merlin, I'm making a mess of this," Susan sighed, her own frustration evident. "Daphne likes you, alright? All I'm asking is that you make sure you don't mess her around. If it were anyone else, Harry, I wouldn't say a word," she explained. The anger within Harry began to dissipate; he understood that Susan was simply being loyal to her friend.
"Susan, I like her as well. Honestly, it snuck up on me after I met her in the bookshop, and then at lunch, I just felt… I don't know, I can't explain it, but I want to talk with her and be around her," he admitted.
Susan's reaction was unexpected. She made a face as if she were about to vomit. "Here I am being real with you, and you go and do that," Harry chuckled. But before Susan could respond, there was a knock at the door. "Come in," Harry called.
George, one of the Aurors, poked his head into the room and spotted the two of them, smirking. "When you two have quite finished your broom closet experience, there's a man here to see you, Potter," he explained before leaving. Harry and Susan exchanged amused glances.
"A witch and wizard can't go into a dark room with the curtains drawn for innocent purposes?" Susan asked casually.
"I know, it's frankly outrageous," Harry replied with deadpan humor, earning a laugh from his Auror partner.
Harry made his way back to his cluttered desk in the bustling Auror office, navigating through a sea of cubicles and busy colleagues. He had just finished a brief chat with Susan, and the encounter had left him slightly on edge. As he approached his desk, he saw Jeremy Orpington standing there, looking somewhat out of place amidst the daily chaos.
Jeremy, with his perfectly combed hair and impeccable robes, appeared as though he had just walked out of the pages of a wizarding fashion magazine. His presence in the typically bustling Auror office was a stark contrast to the more casual and purpose-driven atmosphere.
People nearby glanced at the unexpected visitor, offering curious and speculative looks, which only added to the unease of the encounter.
"Jeremy, what can I do for you?" Harry asked, his voice maintaining its polite edge but also carrying a subtle undercurrent of annoyance at the intrusion. Jeremy Orpington had not followed the proper protocol for speaking to an Auror within the office, and Harry wasn't in the mood for unscheduled distractions.
Jeremy, however, appeared undeterred by the less-than-welcoming tone. With a determined look in his eyes, he stated, "Potter, I have a matter to discuss with you. A grievous matter."
Harry's curiosity was piqued but still tinged with irritation. "Go on."
Jeremy cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "I've been informed that your recent actions have brought Daphne Greengrass' name into disrepute. Her reputation, a thing of great importance, has been sullied by your association."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think you may be misinformed."
Jeremy's eyes narrowed, his irritation now apparent. "I refer to the Daily Prophet article about the incident with the scarf, or should I say whatever attempts you made towards her. Using your magic for shame sir!"
Harry had intervened to rectify the situation. "That article was a mistake, and I've already taken action to rectify it and an apology from the paper was issued. Something you would know if you bothered to read the paper yesterday" he replied, his tone notably less friendly this time.
But Jeremy wasn't satisfied. "You think I believe that the Prophet, who has taken issue with you in the past, just retracted their statements because of an error? No, I believe there's something afoot here, Mr. Potter."
Harry's patience was waning rapidly. "Are you making an accusation?"
With a smug look, Jeremy declared, "No, I intend to challenge you to a duel, Potter, to defend Daphne Greengrass' honor. It is the right and proper thing to do," and let the statement hang in the air.
The entire Auror office fell into a hushed silence. Harry's colleagues exchanged bemused glances, some stifling chuckles. Susan's eyebrows shot up, a mix of surprise and concern on her face. She knew that Harry was an excellent duelist, but the reason for the challenge was clearly absurd.
arry's patience wore thin, and he let out a deep sigh, finding himself more exasperated than threatened by Jeremy Orpington's absurd declaration. Leaning forward, he shot the persistent man a pointed stare. "Jeremy, I don't think you fully grasp the implications of what you're proposing."
"Oh, I very much do, Mr. Potter," Jeremy responded with an air of misguided confidence.
Susan, who leaned against her desk with her arms folded, interjected with a dry tone, "Do you know that challenging an on-duty Auror to a duel is illegal?"
Harry couldn't help but suppress a smile when he saw Jeremy's eyes widen briefly, a momentary flicker of uncertainty. The man briefly scanned the Auror office before returning his gaze to Harry.
"Are you going to arrest me, then?" Jeremy asked defiantly.
"No, but when was the last time you spoke to Daphne, if I might ask?" Harry asked, her voice firm. Harry had hesitated to bring it up, but Susan had played the card, and now it was out in the open.
"That's Miss Greengrass to you! And it was when I asked her to attend the Yule Party with me," Jeremy replied, puffing out his chest.
"No, you're not. She rejected your invitation on the same day you asked," Susan corrected, a steely look in her eyes. "I believe she has accepted an invitation with Auror Potter here, actually."
Harry confirmed her statement with a firm nod, but that seemed to further fuel Jeremy's irrational conviction.
"That confirms it, then! You have bewitched her—"
Feeling the heat of the moment and sensing the unwavering determination in Harry's words, Jeremy finally found reason seeping through the cracks of his misguided confidence. He took another step back, his bravado visibly deflating.
"I would suggest you leave now," Susan suggested, her voice unwavering.
Jeremy Orpington, now clearly beaten, nodded hastily. "I... I will go. But mark my words, Potter," he stammered, retreating towards the exit, "I'm watching."
As Jeremy exited the Auror office, the surrounding colleagues exchanged knowing glances. Some wore smirks, others rolled their eyes, and a few even gave Harry nods of approval. It was evident that they were not convinced by Jeremy's erratic behavior and dramatic accusations.
Susan, leaning on her desk with a satisfied smile, chimed in, "Well, that was certainly an entertaining show."
Harry, who had retracted his magical aura and regained his composure, let out a weary sigh and returned to his desk. "It's not the show I needed today."
The Aurors exchanged chuckles, now more relaxed and back to their usual routines.
"I wouldn't worry, Daphne did tell him no"
"He didn't get the memo it seems" Harry smiled.
"Have you decided on a colour for you and Daphne?" Susan asked, changing the subject.
Harry leaned back in his chair, his signature smile gracing his face as Susan inquired about his and Daphne's color choice for the upcoming Yule Party.
"I'm leaning towards Cerulean or Cobalt, but I haven't made a final decision yet," he replied, deep in thought.
Susan's eyes brightened with enthusiasm. "Definitely Cerulean! It has a more vibrant, festive feel, perfect for the Yule Party. Cobalt feels a bit too business-like, doesn't it?"
Harry chuckled. "Cerulean it is, then. Thanks for the advice."
Their light-hearted conversation brought a sense of normalcy back to the office after the unexpected intrusion of Jeremy Orpington.
Harry however did not think that would be the last he saw of him.
…
"I must say, Miss Greengrass, Cerulean is a splendid choice of color. Did you have a particular material in mind for the dress?" inquired the seamstress at Twitfils and Tattings.
Daphne observed the shop's interior as she contemplated her choice. The boutique was a cozy space filled with rich fabrics and elegant displays. The delicate scent of lavender permeated the air, creating a soothing atmosphere.
"I was thinking chiffon," Daphne responded, her fingers gently caressing the sample of Cerulean fabric. Harry had indeed made an excellent choice.
The elderly witch, with a warm smile, nodded approvingly. "Oh, that would be excellent."
Daphne's sister, Astoria, was also in the boutique, busy selecting her own dress. They engaged in lively discussions about colors, styles, and accessories, their voices blending harmoniously amid the bustling shop. As the skilled witch taking her dress measurements continued her work, Daphne's attention was drawn to the new customers entering the boutique. Their animated discussion about the latest wizarding rumors couldn't escape her ears.
In hushed tones, one of the customers, a tall woman with a fashionable hat, leaned in closer to her friend and whispered, "Did you hear about that wizard challenging Harry Potter to a duel? They say he's doing it to defend the honor of some witch he's been seeing."
Her companion, a petite witch in a stylish cloak, responded with a gasp, "Really? That sounds awfully bold, doesn't it? Challenging Harry Potter, of all people."
Daphne's pulse quickened as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She couldn't believe that Jeremy had actually gone through with his threat. The audacity of the man! She leaned in, straining to catch more of the conversation.
The woman in the stylish cloak continued, her voice laced with fascination and concern. "I heard the challenge was made in the Auror Office, right in front of everyone. Can you imagine the nerve?"
Her friend, the one with the fashionable hat, chimed in with a tone of disbelief. "It's incredible. What did Harry Potter say in response?"
The petite witch nodded gravely. "Well, Potter made it clear that challenging an on-duty Auror is illegal and that he had no intentions of bewitching anyone. I think he threatened to take the whole matter to court."
Daphne's heart sank. It appeared that Harry had reacted as she'd expected, with dignity and a commitment to the law. However, her thoughts were filled with concern for him, knowing that he was now entangled in this preposterous situation all because of her.
The two women at the entrance of Twitfils and Tattings continued their animated conversation, speculating about Harry Potter's choice of a companion for the Yule event. Their voices grew louder, and Daphne couldn't help but overhear.
"I heard he might be going with Daphne Greengrass," the stylish woman whispered conspiratorially, as if sharing a well-kept secret. Daphne did her best not to look over, as she was in the fitting rooms the two other customers could not see her, they wouldn't be so brazen to discuss her if they did.
Her friend, the one with the elegant hat, gasped softly. "Daphne Greengrass, the pureblood witch? What does he see in her? She's a pretty face but a little … well when did you ever see her on someones arm?"
"Well, if he's interested in purebloods, maybe we should introduce ourselves at the event. Who knows, we might catch his attention."
Daphne seethed with anger at the audacious conversation she had overheard. It was as if these women saw Harry as nothing more than a prize to be won, and the mere suggestion of vying for his attention made her blood boil. Not to mention the small pang of jealousy she felt, realising that others were interested in pursuing him. Harry wasn't an object to be claimed.
With her measurements completed, she excused herself from the seamstress and returned to her mother and sister, who were deep in discussions about their own dresses. She couldn't help but interject, her irritation evident in her voice.
"It's quite pathetic how some people view Harry as if he's some sort of trophy," Daphne said, her words laced with a hint of indignation. "As if they can simply 'catch his attention' at the Yule event."
Astoria raised an eyebrow, sharing a knowing look with her mother. "Where has that come from?"
Daphne gestured around the corner with a nod of her head.
"Is someone feeling a bit territorial?" Astoria added
"It's not about that, Astoria."
Their mother placed a comforting hand on Daphne's shoulder. "Don't let it bother you, dear. People will always want to get close to Harry, unfortunately if anything does progress between you, you'll have to become used to this."
Daphne nodded, she knew as much she just didn't think the reality of it would come so quickly, there wasn't anything formally acknowledged between them.
Yet her mind and heart reminded her. With their dresses ordered and paid for, Daphne, Astoria and Isabella exited the shop, Daphne took great delight at the two gossiping witches faces as they saw the trio leaving the shop and mortification was plastered over their faces.
Diagon Alley bustled with life on that crisp winter afternoon. The cobbled streets were crowded with witches and wizards, young and old, all wrapped in their winter cloaks and robes, the soft sound of laughter and chatter filling the air. Shoppers visited various stores, their faces flushed from the cold but also lit up with excitement as they explored the magical wares.
Children gazed longingly at the sweets in the window of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, while elderly witches inspected the quality of the wand-making materials at Ollivanders. Every corner of the alley seemed alive with activity.
People of various backgrounds and ages crossed paths, giving nods of greeting and warm smiles to friends and acquaintances. Even the ever-present owl post was busy, with owls flying in and out of Eeylops Owl Emporium and the Magical Menagerie, carrying letters and packages to all corners of the wizarding world.
The atmosphere in the alley was festive, despite the lingering fears of the recent past. It was a stark contrast to the dark times when Voldemort's reign of terror had cast a shadow over everything. Now, the return of hope was tangible, and the spirit of unity and celebration was evident in the heart of Diagon Alley.
Daphne and her family were a part of this vibrant tapestry, walking together, weaving their own story into the fabric of the magical world. The thoughts and concerns of earlier times were set aside as they joined the colorful tapestry of the wizarding world, embracing the joy of the upcoming Yule Ball and the possibilities it held for all.
…
The night of the Ministry Yule Party had arrived, and Harry stood before his bedroom mirror, dressing in his most elegant and sophisticated suit. It was a rich, deep shade of cerulean, the same color Daphne had chosen for her gown. The suit was tailored to perfection, fitted at the shoulders and chest, accentuating his strong physique, before cascading down to the floor in a relaxed but refined manner. The fine fabric felt luxurious against his skin, and the striking cerulean color perfectly complemented his raven-black hair and emerald eyes.
The suit featured intricate silver embroidery around the cuffs and lapels, a subtle nod to the stars that shone in the winter night sky. It was a meticulous detail that he knew Daphne would appreciate, as she was always drawn to the little things.
As he buttoned up his suit jacket, Harry couldn't help but think about the letters he and Daphne had exchanged in the week leading up to the event. Each letter was a treasure, their words creating a bridge of understanding and connection between them. Daphne's elegant script, her intelligence and humor, and the shared enthusiasm for the event had sparked a warmth in Harry that he hadn't anticipated. It was no longer just about attending the Yule Party; he looked forward to spending time with her.
He had selected a silver pocket square to match the embroidery on his suit and a pair of polished black shoes that gleamed in the soft light of his bedroom. Harry considered his appearance carefully, ensuring every detail was in place. When he was satisfied, he ran a hand through his hair, the unruly strands settling into place with a hint of product. He looked himself in the eye, his reflection in the mirror revealing a man who had faced countless trials but now felt a different kind of anticipation—a flutter of excitement as he readied himself for a night with someone he was growing fonder of by the day.
In his pocket, he had a small, beautifully wrapped package. It was a thoughtful gift for Daphne, a token of appreciation for the warmth and friendship she had brought into his life. Harry couldn't wait to see her, to exchange stories, and to explore the magic of the Yule Ball together. As he surveyed his reflection one last time, he knew he was ready for the evening's adventure, one that held the promise of much more than a simple party in the Ministry Atrium. It was an adventure that held the potential to change the course of his life in unexpected and wonderful ways.
Certainly, the pendant Harry had selected for Daphne was crafted in the style of the Evening Star, reminiscent of the magical star that Arwen wore in "The Lord of the Rings." The delicate silver chain held a single, captivating cerulean gem, which was set in an ornate silver pendant. The pendant had been meticulously designed to resemble a radiant starburst, an homage to the starry night sky that would be the backdrop for their magical evening at the Yule Ball. The enchanting pendant was elegant and timeless, just like Daphne herself, and Harry hoped it would capture her heart, reminding her of their shared interests and the memorable adventures they had yet to embark upon together.
He waited at his home which was bathed in the soft, warm glow of lamplight, creating a cozy and inviting ambiance. The spacious yet comfortably furnished living room exuded an air of sophistication, a testament to Harry's preference for simplicity and elegance.
As he waited for the appointed time to meet Daphne at her home, Harry took a moment to ensure everything was in place. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering patterns of light and shadow across the room. A small, beautifully adorned Christmas tree stood in the corner, its tiny, shimmering lights reflecting in Harry's emerald eyes.
The mantelpiece displayed an assortment of well-chosen trinkets and photographs—a picture of Harry's parents when they were young, a Quidditch trophy he'd won with Ron and Hermione, and a photograph of the late Professor Dumbledore. Nearby, a cabinet held a collection of carefully selected books, a testament to his passion for reading and learning.
Harry had chosen to meet Daphne at her home, an idea born from their letters and the shared interests they had discovered. They'd decided to begin their evening with a relaxed and private dinner before heading to the Yule Ball, and Harry felt that her home was the perfect setting for such an intimate beginning.
As he double-checked the time on a classic silver pocket watch, Harry's thoughts couldn't help but wander to the enchanting evening that lay ahead. Daphne's cerulean dress and the elegance of her presence had already captured his imagination, he could not wait to see what she would be wearing. The pendant he'd carefully chosen for her was tucked safely in his pocket, waiting to be presented.
Harry knew that this evening had the potential to be a turning point in his life. He looked forward to sharing stories, laughter, and perhaps a little magic with Daphne Greengrass. The clock continued to tick, and he counted down the minutes until the moment he'd open her front door and embark on an adventure that held the promise of changing their lives in beautiful and unexpected ways.
When he heard the chime for six o'clock, he stepped towards his fireplace and called out the Greengrass address.
…
Daphne's room was awash in a soft, gentle light, emanating from the small crystal chandelier hanging above. She stood before her ornate dressing table, an antique piece that had been in her family for generations, examining her reflection in the ornate mirror. Her preparations for the Yule Ball were well underway, a dance of careful routines, anticipation, and a hint of nervous excitement.
She had just emerged from a soothing, warm bath, her skin refreshed and aglow. Drops of water glistened on her porcelain skin, giving her an ethereal quality. Her hair, a cascade of silken strands, was drawn up into an elegant chignon, secured with a sapphire-hued ribbon. A few loose tendrils framed her delicate face, softening the overall look.
A breathtaking cerulean dress of chiffon adorned her figure. It was a work of art, crafted by the talented seamstresses of Twitfils and Tattings. The gown featured a fitted bodice with a modest yet stylish cold-shoulder design that added a touch of modernity to its classical silhouette. The fabric flowed gracefully, creating a delicate trail that kissed the floor as she moved.
As she continued with her preparations, her fingers moved deftly, delicately applying makeup that accentuated her features without overpowering her natural beauty. A subtle, rosy blush colored her cheeks, and her lips were painted in a soft, natural shade. Her eyes, framed with cerulean eyeshadow, sparkled with excitement and a touch of nerves. Daphne's beauty was not merely skin deep; it was a reflection of the grace, intelligence, and confidence that radiated from within.
Daphne's emotions were a delicate blend of anticipation, excitement, and a hint of vulnerability. Harry Potter had opened up new possibilities in her life, and tonight's event was a culmination of their growing connection. As she took one last, reflective look in the mirror, she knew this evening could change everything. It was not just a Yule Ball; it was a pivotal moment in her life.
She stood there for a moment, breathing deeply, calming the butterflies in her stomach. Tonight, she would step out into a world of enchantment, and with each step, she moved closer to the adventure that awaited her.
Standing before her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her appearance, her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to that day in the dress shop. She had overheard the women discussing Harry and their intentions, their voices laced with an undercurrent of longing and rivalry. Initially, their words had unsettled her, stirring a mixture of emotions that had taken her by surprise.
But as she examined her reflection now, her cerulean gown clinging gracefully to her form, she realized that her initial unease was not rooted in jealousy. No, it was something deeper—an acknowledgment of her own inexperience in navigating this newfound world of emotions, connections, and affection.
Daphne had resolved that she was not the kind of person to be swayed by the petty comments of others. She was Daphne Greengrass, a woman of elegance, intellect, and poise. She was unapologetically herself, a characteristic she held dear, and she would not let the doubts or insecurities of others impact her self-assured nature.
Daphne's azure blue eyes gently drifted to the ornate clock hanging on the wall of her elegantly room. Its slender, golden hands indicated that it was five minutes to six, and the knowledge that Harry would be arriving shortly caused a flurry of butterflies to take flight within her. The anticipation and excitement were unmistakable, even though they were accompanied by a sense of nervousness.
Her father and Draco were both aware of her plans for the evening, but the thought of Harry having to stand in the entryway of her home, possibly engaging in polite conversation with her father, made her feel both anxious and slightly amused. She couldn't help but hope that Draco would exercise some restraint and not pick a fight with her date.
Daphne took up her clutch purse, its shimmering cerulean hue complementing her gown perfectly, and exited her room. The gentle sway of her chiffon gown as she walked only heightened her sense of anticipation and excitement.
As she descended the grand staircase, her mother's voice, melodious and filled with warmth, floated through the air. Daphne's eyes met her parents just a few steps away from the entrance of the house. Her mother's refined and graceful presence was always comforting, and she exchanged a few quiet words with her father, who wore an expression of reserved approval. Her parents shared a bond that Daphne had always admired, and she hoped to find such love and understanding in her own future.
A little farther to the side, she noticed Astoria and Draco engaged in a hushed but animated conversation. Her younger sister, with her striking beauty and quick wit, had always been one to leave a lasting impression. Daphne's heart swelled with affection for her sister as she watched them.
But it was Harry who held her focus. He stood just beyond the entrance, his eyes meeting hers as she descended the staircase. A genuine and warm smile spread across his face, a silent affirmation of his eagerness to see her. Daphne felt her heart skip a beat, and the butterflies in her stomach returned in full force.
You look beautiful, Miss Greengrass," Harry spoke softly, his emerald eyes capturing her gaze and reaffirming his sincerity. His manner, once distant and guarded, had now blossomed into a reflection of understanding and respect. Harry had learned the subtleties of a pureblood heiress's expectations, and his formality mirrored the depth of his intentions.
Daphne's heart fluttered, its tempo dancing to the rhythm of her emotions, as she responded, "The honor would be mine, Mr. Potter." Her words held truth, and she felt a warm blush grace her cheeks, unable to hide her fondness for the man before her.
Harry's hand slipped into the pocket of his fitted suit, and he produced a small, beautifully wrapped rectangular box. The sight of it captured her attention, and her azure eyes sparkled with curiosity.
With an elegant and unhurried movement, he offered the box to her, presenting it as one might unveil a precious artifact. "A small token, Miss Greengrass, to express my gratitude for your friendship and the enchanting journey it's led me on."
The box was cool to the touch as she accepted it, the cerulean and silver wrapping accentuating the elegant simplicity of the gift. Her fingers carefully unwrapped the package to reveal a delicate pendant, its design inspired by the evening star. The silver chain held a pendant in the shape of a star, adorned with a shimmering cerulean gem at its center. Daphne's breath caught at its beauty, and she realized that it perfectly resembled the evening star she had read about in the novel she had come to love.
Her azure eyes lifted to meet Harry's, filled with a mix of wonder and appreciation. "It's exquisite, Harry," she whispered, her voice a soft, sincere melody.
Daphne's fingers gently traced the contours of the Evenstar pendant, and as her azure eyes locked onto the beautifully crafted silver star, she couldn't help but feel a deep sense of understanding. The pendant, with its radiant and timeless beauty, symbolized something more profound than mere adornment. She realised that this gift was more than just a piece of jewelry; it was a statement, if she doubted if Harry was having the same thoughts as her, those were washed away.
In that moment, Daphne's heart swelled with warmth and gratitude. She understood the profound depth of Harry's feelings for her, and the pendant became a tangible reminder of their shared journey and the affection that was blossoming between them.
With a soft smile, Daphne looked up at Harry, her eyes filled with appreciation and affection. This gift was more meaningful than any words.
"Could you put it on for me?" she asked.
"Of course," Harry replied with a gentle smile that mirrored Daphne's affection. He carefully took the pendant from its box.
Daphne's heart danced with a mixture of emotions as Harry clasped the pendant around her neck. She had turned around, moving her silken hair to the side, granting him easier access to fasten the necklace. His fingertips brushed the nape of her neck as he secured the pendant, sending a shiver of electricity down her spine.
Once the pendant was securely fastened, Harry's fingers lingered for a moment. Daphne's heart raced, and she couldn't deny the deep and exhilarating link between them. The pendant, with its radiant beauty, was now a cherished symbol of their growing affection, and it was a promise she was more than ready to keep.
She was aware her family and Draco were likely watching them closely. Her mother, no doubt, would be quietly thrilled at the scene. Her sister would be eager to tease her, but in the end, would be beyond happy for her. Her father would be conflicted, and Draco would likely want to obliviate himself.
At that moment, she could not bring herself to care.
"Shall we be off?" her father said. With her eyes lingering on Harry's, he looped his arm with her own, and they all made their way to the fireplace to Floo to their destination.
…
End of Chapter
To those who are reviewing, I thank you for the feedback and support. I am sadly seeing less and less Haphne being updated but I will promise to finish this story. There will be about three, maybe four more chapters and they are the best yet.
All moved now so writing should be back to normal.