The Family Stone

Daphne found it oddly surreal to be skulking about under Harry's invisibility cloak in the streets of muggle London but his pragmatism had made sense. If there were any fanatical Death Eaters remaining it would make sense for them to be hanging around the headquarters of Dumbledore's resistance group...hoping to pick off an unsuspecting enemy. It was exactly the type of cowardly act Voldemort's followers would stoop to. For all of their pureblood dogma from the stories she had heard they were absolutely devoid of honor.

Daphne had apparated them to King's Cross and from there they had enjoyed a leisurely stroll to the Black residence before donning the cloak once they were a block away. The walk in sunny muggle London had only lasted twenty minutes and ended far too quickly for Daphne's liking. Being able to walk hand in hand with Harry quietly without fear of his celebrity attracting attention was liberating. They could have called one of the elves to apparate them inside but Harry's idea had turned out to be a much more enjoyable option.

After a quick check of the perimeter confirmed that nothing was amiss she found herself standing directly between Eleven and Thirteen Grimmauld Place. "I thought you said it was Number Twelve?" Daphne asked dumbly.

"Oh,I forgot," Harry exclaimed quietly as a smile blossomed. He handed her a small bit of parchment that read The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

"Wha- ahh..." Daphne exclaimed as Number Twelve suddenly appeared, inexplicably pushing the neighboring flats aside. "Fidelius Charm?" she asked knowingly. With that protection in place it was a virtual impossibility that anyone would be able to track them down on their planned birthday 'date.' This place just kept getting better and better.

"I thought you said the outside was a mess," Daphne stated as she scanned the building. Based on Harry's description she had expected something much more run down. It wasn't the most immaculate building she had ever seen but it seemed to be well taken care of.

"It was," Harry said confusedly. "I guess Kreacher and Dobby have been working hard."

Daphne silently cheered. If Harry was correct than it meant the elves must have made loads of progress on the interior of the house. Everything was coming together.

As they crossed the threshold her excitement grew as everything within sight looked to be immaculately scrubbed. The overabundance of black furniture and assorted decorations were dreary in their own right but at least the oppressiveness was clean. It appeared the speech they had given Kreacher in the Hospital Wing had worked.

"Wow," Harry said in a hush, "this place looks loads better. If Kreacher's floor looks this good I'm guessing Dobby's is even better. Looks like she's still here though," he finished glumly, pointing to a curtained off portrait.

Daphne smirked as her eyes fell on the covered painting. It looked like she needed to remind Kreacher it would not do to disobey his current master's orders in favor of his prior master. "It will be gone by the time we leave," she replied confidently.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but go easy on Kreacher," Harry laughed. "I'll check upstairs while you catch up with your new friend," he joked before ascending the stairs in search of Dobby.

As if on cue the aged elf quickly scurried into the hallway. "Kreacher is happy to see mistress again!"

She forced herself not to laugh as she heard the elf mumble "Kreacher hopes mistress is happy with his work," under his breath. Apparently her pureblood act had paid off.

"Hello Kreacher," she greeted him formally. "I trust you have made good use of your time since we spoke?"

"Yes mistress," the elf answered nervously, "Kreacher has been working very hard. Would mistress like to inspect the rest of the floor?"

Daphne nodded and slowly made her way through the different areas of the first floor, Kreacher dutifully trailing behind her. She was pleased to see that all of the rooms were immaculate. Although some of the furnishings were worn and in need of repair it was clear Kreacher had done his best. She made various approving noises as she moved from room to room but waited to speak until they were back where they began.

"You have exceeded my expectations Kreacher. You've truly done the House of Black proud," she declared honestly.

The elf's face broke out into an unnatural smile. She wondered when the last time Kreacher had been so happy and felt a momentary bit of sadness for the elf. The job was not finished though.

"I now realize your Master and I must have been unclear in our instructions though. Master Potter specifically instructed that Walburga Black's portrait was to be removed. Was there a problem in carrying out that order?" she asked, a mix of confusion and disapproval in her voice.

Kreacher nervously wrung his hands as he glanced toward the portrait. "Master Potter's instructions were clear, mistress. Kreacher was hoping mistress could change Master Potter's mind once she saw the portrait."

The hope in the elf's voice was palpable. It was a shame she would have to squash it.

"Very well then," she acquiesced. "Let us look at this wondrous portrait."

Kreacher snapped the curtains open and Daphne watched as the Black matriarch awoke from her sleep, a sour expression adorning her face as she noticed Daphne.

"Who have you allowed in my home, "Kreacher?" she demanded. The matriarch's initial angered expression morphed into suspicion as she appraised Daphne. Daphne had purposely worn her most traditional pureblood attire to catch the portrait off guard. It appeared to be working.

"This is mistress Daphne Greengrass, daughter of Cyrus and Amanda Greengrass, Mistress," Kreacher replied reverently. "Mistress Greengrass is betrothed to Master Potter."

Daphne smiled internally. She had subtly implied that she and Harry were engaged in the Hospital Wing to help assure Kreacher's compliance to her instructions. It appeared to have worked.

"Greengrass, you say," she answered officiously. The portrait seemed to be annoyed that many of her normal insults would not apply. "As honored as I am to make your acquaintance I can't help but feel some sympathy for your parents. They must be ashamed and horrified to see you consorting with that traitorous half-blood."

Daphne schooled her features, raising an eyebrow imperiously. "I must confess myself disappointed, Mrs. Black. Kreacher assured me that you adhered to our honored traditions. To hear you speak in such a way about the head of House Black is unacceptable. You should be ashamed," she finished dismissively.

The portrait folded her arms and scoffed, her arrogance not swayed in the least by Daphne's admonition. "The Dark Lord will take care of that problem shortly and we will no longer be saddled with such an embarrassment."

Daphne chanced a glance at Kreacher. She could tell by his expression that the elf knew his argument for keeping the portrait hanging was well and truly lost. It was time to permanently rid Harry's house of this fossil.

"Haven't you heard?" she replied bemusedly. "Harry ended the half blood Voldemort permanently several months ago. Unfortunately for you Harry will remain the head of House Black for many years to come. Hopefully he can restore a bit of honor to the Black name and undo the damage you have wrought." In her periphery she could see Kreacher's eyes widen in astonishment at her proclamation.

"You dare!" the portrait bellowed. "Kreacher! Remove this blood traitor from my sight," she commanded authoritatively.

Daphne allowed a small, satisfied smile to cross her face, wanting it to be the last thing Walburga Black saw before her curtains were closed permanently.

"I tried Kreacher," she said sympathetically. "Unfortunately her disrespect of Master Potter cannot be tolerated. You know what to do," she intoned as she crossed her arms and waited.

"KREACHER DO NOT-" were the last words ever heard from the portrait before the elf snapped the curtains closed and began removing it from the wall.

"Kreacher is sorry for his mistake, mistress," he said sadly. "Mistress Black was a good Mistress but Kreacher understands. Kreacher will accept whatever punishment Master Potter deems appropriate."

"I will speak to Master Potter on your behalf Kreacher," she said consolingly. "It is understandable that you would want to think the best of your former mistress."

"Mistress Greengrass is kind," the elf replied. "Kreacher will destroy the portrait as Master Potter commanded."

"Very good, Kreacher. I will be down with Master Potter in a few minutes to discuss your punishment." She knew Harry had no intention of punishing Kreacher but it would be better if Kreacher heard it from Harry.

As she began toward the stairs she was stopped by Kreacher's quiet voice. "Did mistress say Voldemort is gone thanks to Master Potter ?"

"Yes Kreacher," she confirmed. "It happened on the night Master Potter called for you at Hogwarts."

"Kreacher was wondering why it changed. Master Regulus would be pleased," the elf quietly stated in awe as he turned back to the portrait.

Daphne filed that odd tidbit away and ascended the stairs. Dobby was there to greet her, a serious expression on his face.

"Harry Potter is in Sirius Black's room," he said quietly as he pointed toward a nearby door. "Miss Greeny should go and help Harry Potter," he pleaded.

"What's wrong?" she asked, cursing her stupidity for letting Harry relive the memories of this house by himself.

"It is good Miss Greeny," Dobby reassured. "It is good but...sad. Miss Greeny should stop talking to Dobby and help Harry Potter."

His words drove her to action as she quickly opened the door and entered. Harry was sitting on the bed, his back to her, head facing down. He noticed her presence and wiped his eyes before looking back down. She quietly made her way over and took a seat next to him on the bed. He looked to be holding an old letter...she vaguely noticed that the handwriting bore a significant resemblance to Harry's.

"Harry?" she asked quietly, feeling as if she was disturbing something important and private.

He leaned toward her and handed over the letter. "It's-" he began before having to stop and clear his throat. "It's a letter from my mum to Sirius...she was telling him about my first birthday. Dobby found it when he was cleaning and saved it for me."

She hadn't cried for years before she met Harry but she felt the now familiar moistness once again as she read Lily Potter's words. Her heart broke as the humanity and goodness of the woman seemingly burst out of the parchment. This was the person that should have raised Harry. This was who he deserved. She could tell Harry was re-reading the letter over her shoulder and moved slightly so he had a better view.

Once she was done she handed it back to Harry and watched as he reverently folded it and placed it in his pocket. "This was with it," he stated, handing her a picture.

She laughed out loud as she watched baby Harry flying around the room while his father gave chase, his mother beaming. His father was so alive. His mother was so beautiful. They looked so happy. She leaned in and wrapped an arm around him in an affectionate hug. "Always on a broom," she mused as she handed it back.

They sat in companionable silence for several moments before Harry finally spoke. "I never made it beyond checking this room," he said with a throaty chuckle.

"I'm sure it's fine," she reassured. "Kreacher's floor looks great." She checked the time and realized they were running late. "We should probably get going," she reminded him quietly.

They made their way out of the room to find Dobby patiently waiting for them. For the first time Daphne could recall Harry initiated a hug with Dobby. "Thank you for finding the letter Dobby...it's...well it's great."

"Dobby is happy to help his friends," he said simply. As Harry stood Daphne was struck with an idea.

"Dobby, do you remember the conversation we had a few months ago? About bonding with Harry?"

Dobby nodded while Harry looked on questioningly.

"I asked Dobby why he hadn't asked to bond with you yet. He said he wanted to help you at Hogwarts first before asking," she supplied.

"If that's what you'd like I'd be honored Dobby," Harry said immediately.

To Daphne's shock Dobby did not look at all excited. Instead he appeared to be in pain.

"Dobby must wait," the elf gritted out. "Dobby must stay at Hogwarts one more year to protect Miss Greeny from bad wizards in Slytherin. Then Dobby will be wanting to bond."

"Dobby you don't-"

"Dobby will wait," he interrupted. "Dobby cannot let anything happen to great Miss Greeny."

It was her turn to spontaneously hug the elf. "Thank you Dobby," she said warmly.

"Dobby is happy to help his friends," he repeated quietly.

Two hours later the pair were situated at a kitchen table in the London suburb of Heathgate, seated across from a very skeptical Hermione Granger.

"So this stone is one of the most powerful magical artifacts in existence," she began, processing what they had shared.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"And you'd like me to hide it somewhere and not tell you or anyone else it's location."

"Yes," he repeated.

"Because it would be too tempting for you to use if you knew where it was located."

"Still correct," Harry smirked.

"And you are giving me the option of knowing what the stone does or remaining blissfully ignorant."

Harry nodded and waited.

"And you actually thought I wouldn't want to know?" she asked disbelievingly.

Harry chuckled. "Daphne thought it would be best to give you the option before you immediately shot it down."

"Remember, there is a reason Harry doesn't trust himself with the stone," Daphne interjected. "Are you absolutely sure you want to know and risk being tempted?"

For her efforts Daphne was met with the annoyed expression Hermione normally reserved for Ron and Harry.

"Tell me everything. Now," she demanded, her glare in full force.

Daphne smiled and pulled a book out of her bag "Have you ever heard of Beedle the Bard?" Daphne asked.

Thirty minutes later they had explained the Hallows to their fascinated audience and Harry was explaining their strategy going forward.

"So I'm keeping the cloak with me, the Elder Wand is now in the Greengrass vault until I can move it to the Potter vault after my birthday, and we'd like you to secure the stone," he concluded.

Hermione stared indignantly at Harry. Clearly she felt he was not done explaining.

"I suppose you are waiting to hear the logic behind each choice?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Hermione leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. She attempted to maintain her glare but a small smile stubbornly broke through.

"Fine," Harry murmured, "just don't try to talk us out of it."

"I'm keeping the cloak close because I'm used to having it and it can aid in a quick escape from danger or scouting out locations. I'm keeping the wand in my vault because I want nothing to do with it so I won't be tempted to use it. If another threat arises it would be good to have the most powerful wand in existence on reserve."

Daphne smiled to herself watching Hermione's expression change as she processed the information and realized the logic was sound.

"And the stone?"

"It's too tempting for me to keep and I'm too close to Daphne's family now to leave it with them. I'd figure out a way to get it if I really wanted to."

They had agreed not to share the real reason Daphne and her family weren't the best choice...that their temptation would be growing exponentially in a decade or two.

"And you chose me because?" Hermione prompted.

"Your parents and grandparents are alive and in good health so there is no immediate risk of you wanting to use it. Even if that weren't the case you would still be the best choice because you are so logical and recognize that the risk is not worth the reward. We thought you could hide it safely in a muggle location. Even if someone determined the stone was real they would never suspect it would be hidden in the muggle world."

"What happens when someone close to me does die?" Hermione asked. "Human emotion can overcome the strongest of logic. Just look at Dumbledore as proof."

"When that happens the three of us will talk and be honest with each other," Daphne replied. "If we think the temptation is too much for any of us we will destroy it. It would be a shame to destroy such an amazing piece of magic but you and your state of mind are much more important."

"Besides, the myth of Dumbledore has been highly exaggerated," Harry interjected, frustration evident in his voice. "You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for...stronger than me for sure and stronger than Dumbledore...Daphne and I both think so."

Harry's eyes fell on the stone, pausing to gather his thoughts before continuing. "Dumbledore's way...keeping all the secrets to himself as much as possible...doesn't work...and I can't do it. You need to trust people...the right people. We trust you."

In a flash Hermione bolted from her chair and engulfed Harry in a fierce hug. "I'll do it," she murmured into his shoulder.

She couldn't see her face but Daphne could tell Hermione was crying. Once again she was reminded of the fierce loyalty Harry instilled in those close to him. She could hear Hermione start speaking to Harry quietly but could not make out the words. She watched as Harry whispered something, drawing a nod and a smile from Hermione.

"I know exactly the place to keep this," Hermione said as she sat back down and wiped at her face, placing the bag containing the stone in her pocket. "I can take care of it today. I'll need to work out some wards to put in place so only the three of us will be able to even know it is there...maybe a modified version of the Fidelius...and the standard Repelling charms as well, obviously."

"Hermione-"

"The muggle place I have in mind will allow for privacy so I won't even raise suspicion using my wand-"

"Hermione!" Harry interjected more forcefully, "it's okay, we trust you."

"Right," Hermione replied, slightly embarrassed. "I might need to run a few ideas for protection by Daphne but it will be safe."

"No problem," Daphne replied honestly.

Harry cleared his throat to get their attention. "I thought you might want to see this, Hermione," he stated as he pulled the newfound photograph from his pocket and handed it to his friend.

"Oh, Harry..."