Disclamer: Everything belongs to J.K.R
24-8-17
November turned into December, the Great Hall and the Moving Staircase turned into the Christmas Wonderland that never failed to delight Harry in all the years he had spent at the castle, and the suits of armour in the hallways serenaded the passers-by with the meanwhile familiar butchered Muggle Christmas carols. Harry couldn't get the tune of "Come Ye Merry Hippogriffs" out of his head for days.
Despite the festive mood in the castle and everyone looking forward to returning home for the holidays, the thought of Tracey and whether she had been pushed off that cliff was a constant undercurrent on Harry's mind. However, each time he tried to think of who might have had a reason to kill Tracey, he drew a blank. He didn't want to discuss the topic in front of Daphne, either. She was still having a hard time coming to grips with the untimely deaths of two of her dormmates within short succession.
At last, they boarded the train and headed south.
Harry took the seat next to the window, and Daphne cuddled by his side. Hermione and Ron sat opposite, while Neville took the seat next to Daphne.
He looked at the two cuddling couples with disgust. 'I feel like a fifth wheel.'
'Don't be so grumpy.' Daphne elbowed him in his side, a grin on her face. 'You'll be seeing Hannah soon, and we will all be having fun at the Ministry's Yule Ball tonight.'
Neville's face brightened at her words. 'Right,' he said, and huddled deeper into his corner seat next to the compartment door, no doubt dreaming of his reunion with his fiancé.
The two couples shared a grin.
'You'll come over for Christmas lunch, mate?' Ron said to Harry. 'Mum will never let me hear the end of it if I didn't invite you.'
Harry shook his head. 'That is very nice, but I've invited Daph to stay with me.'
A Chesire Cat's grin almost split Ron's face into halves. 'Is that so? Well, in that case, you'd better bring her along. You know how mum is, she loves a full house.'
Harry exchanged a look with his girlfriend. They didn't make any plans for the Christmas holidays yet, except for attending the Ministry Yule Ball, and he didn't want to go over her head.
'That sounds like fun,' Daphne said with a broad smile at Ron. 'Thank you for the invitation, Ron. Harry and I are delighted to accept.'
They spent the remainder of the train ride as usual, playing wizarding chess, getting sweets from the food cart, or dozing and reading. None of them dallied around when the train arrived in London at last. They had a ball to attend that night, and at least the girls were anxious to begin their preparations for that.
Harry side-along apparated Daphne to Grimmauld Place. They arrived in the unkempt shrubbery of the garden of the square. He took her by the hand and led her onto the street. It was already dark, and half of the street lamps of the place were not functioning, which gave a spooky feel to the place.
Daphne shivered and creased her eyebrows. 'Something is wrong with the numbers. There's number eleven, and number thirteen, but where is number twelve?'
Harry chuckled. 'I live at Grimmauld Place number twelve,' he told her.
'Why are you telling me—Oh!' She gaped when his house emerged from nowhere between number eleven and number thirteen.
'You live under a Fidelius Charm?'
They walked up the few shallow steps that led to the entrance door.
'Yeah. The adoration of one half of the wizarding population got a bit too much after the battle, and the other half wanted my guts for garters, so I thought I needed a safe place.' He chuckled and tapped the door with the tip of his wand.
The door opened into an inviting entrance hall, painted in a sunny yellow with white stucco accents. A crystal chandelier and matching sconces sent sparkling lights across the walls and the gleaming marble floor. Kreacher popped into the hallway to take their cloaks and disappeared again.
Harry looked at his wristwatch. 'I'd give you the tour of the house, but considering we need to be at the Ministry in less than two hours, we better get going. Come on, I'll show you your room.' He climbed up the stairs that led to the first floor.
Daphne followed him.
On the landing of the first floor, Harry gestured towards three closed doors. 'Up here are the formal reception rooms. Kreacher insisted on having them. There are two drawing rooms, one to the front of the house and another one to the back. They can be turned into one huge reception room by opening the door between them. The smaller room is my study, where I am going to receive business associates. At least that's what Kreacher tells me.'
They laughed and climbed up the next set of stairs.
'Up here is the master bedroom and the guest room. The other bedrooms on the next two floors are not yet furnished, so you'll have to stay on the same floor with me.' He opened the door to a spacious bedroom that overlooked the backyard and was decorated in shades of blue with silver accents. 'If you need anything, I'm next door.' Harry motioned with his head towards the other door on the landing. 'Or just call Kreacher.'
Daphne opened her mouth, reconsidered, and nodded. 'Thank you, Harry, I'll bear that in mind.' She flashed an impish smile at him, walked into the room, and closed the door behind herself.
Harry looked at the closed door for a long moment. Why couldn't he shake the feeling she had just made a joke at his expense? He shrugged and turned to his bedroom to get ready.
He took his time to shower, shave and dress in a tuxedo-styled set of dress robes Daphne had insisted he should buy when she saw them in a catalogue from Twilfit and Tattings that lay around in the general common room. Yet there was almost one hour left when he walked down to the family room he and Kreacher had set up next to the kitchen on the lower ground floor.
The bright family room was his favourite room in the house. Leather chairs and sofas with matching low tables invited to relax, bookshelves lined the walls, and pictures of his parents and friends decorated every free surface. It had a bay window with a cosy window seat that looked over a small, sunken patio at the back of the house—the ideal place for barbecues and al fresco dining in summer. He'd spent many a night out there last summer, nursing a glass of wine and listening to the nightly sounds of the big city around him, while he battled his grief over losing his girlfriend. It would be much nicer to spend summer nights out there with Daphne over a bottle of wine, talking and laughing and planning their life together.
He smiled in anticipation of the things to come for them after they had finished Hogwarts and she would move in with him, and settled down on the comfortable leather sofa opposite the fireplace. He reached for a Muggle novel from the stack that laid on the end table next to the sofa, opened it with a content sigh, and lost himself in the investigations of one Inspector Thomas Lynley.
He didn't know how long he'd been reading when a rustle at the door made him look up.
Daphne stood in the door frame. Her blonde hair, piled high on her head, gleamed like gold in the light of the lamps that illuminated her from behind. She wore a lacey, cherry-red ball gown, held by the thinnest straps possible, that fitted her like a second skin. The skirt flared out in graceful folds from just above her knees and ended in a short train. She'd gone all out with her make-up, yet it wasn't overdone. Her lips, painted a red to match the dress, smiled at him.
The book dropped in his lap, and he had a distinct feeling that his jaw followed. He gaped at her for a long moment.
'Like what you see?' Daphne asked with a mischievous twinkle. She turned to give him the full view. The dress was very low cut at the back.
Harry gulped. Gads, she was going to kill him tonight. 'You bet!' His voice sounded hoarse. He got up, walked to his girlfriend and put his arms around her. 'You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.' How was he supposed to keep his hands to himself when she wore a dress like this? He lowered his head to kiss her.
Daphne put a finger on his lips to forestall him. 'Don't ruin my make-up, love.'
He groaned and pulled away. 'Evil woman!'
She chuckled, raised on her tiptoes and gave him a butterfly kiss, then wrapped her arms around his and snuggled up to him. 'You'll live. Let's go, shall we?'
He nodded. Daphne dressed up in a sexy evening gown had a devastating effect on his ability of speech each time. Not that he minded, he was the luckiest bloke on earth with a girl like her on his arm.
They walked up to the entrance hall, where Kreacher waited, their evening cloaks over his arm. Harry put a cloak of shimmering silk in the same colour as her dress over Daphne's shoulders and donned his cloak. They stepped out of the house, Daphne grabbed his arm, and an uncomfortable second later they appeared in the Apparition Room of the hotel where the ball took place.
They stepped aside to make room for the next couple and handed their cloaks to a waiting elf. Daphne checked her appearance in the floor-length mirror that hung next to the Apparition spot and smoothed down the lapels of his robes.
'Ready?' she asked and took his arm.
'As ready as I'll ever be,' he said with a deep breath to prepare himself for the onslaught of reporters that would await them the moment they stepped out of the Apparition Room. The Ministry Yule Ball was the top social event in magical Britain and always got a huge press covering, Daphne had told him.
The door swung back as they walked towards them and admitted entrance to a carpeted reception area.
'It's him!' a voice shouted.
A frenzy of flashing magical cameras descended on them, dozens of voices called out questions.
'Mr Potter, is that Miss Greengrass by your side?'
'Harry, when did your affair with Lady Nott start?'
'Is it true that you had affairs with Lady Nott, Miss Davis, and Miss Greengrass simultaneously?'
The purple smoke from the cameras billowed into a thick cloud that drifted into Harry's and Daphne's direction. Daphne coughed and waved her hand in front of her face. Harry whipped out his wand and cast a spell that banished the cloud away from them, back towards the photographers and reporters. The obnoxious questions died in a collective coughing fit, and the flashlights stopped.
'That should answer their questions.' Harry stashed his wand back into its holster.
Daphne smirked up at him. 'Well done, Mr Potter.'
'I aim to please.' He reciprocated her smirk and offered her his arm once more. 'Shall we, Miss Greengrass?'
They walked towards the end of the line of ball guests that had formed in front of the door to the ballroom and ignored the reporters who had recovered and now hollered questions at their backs
Harry let out a breath when they reached the comparatively calm of the reception line. The reporters weren't allowed to follow them. During the ball, a photographer from the Ministry would take pictures of the attending guests, and Minister Shacklebolt himself would decide which pictures made it to the newspapers—if any at all.
Daphne squeezed his arm to comfort him. 'You'll get used to it one day, Harry. Maybe we should work out a strategy for how to deal with them. You can't keep ignoring them forever, and you can't banish camera smoke in their faces each time they get on your nerves.'
He smiled down at her. He was lucky beyond imagination that he'd found a woman who was willing to put up with all the garbage that came with being Harry Potter.
At last, it was their turn to greet Minister Shacklebolt. The Ministry photographer took the obligatory picture of Daphne and him with Kingsley and his wife.
'This picture will go to The Daily Prophet,' Kingsley said.
Harry made a face. 'Using your friendship with the Man-Who-Conquered, Kingsley?'
The Minister for Magic waved that comment aside. 'Who will want to look at you scrawny git when your stunning girlfriend is in the picture? I want to see the picture of myself with two beautiful women to my left and my right side on the front page.'
They laughed at that. 'Can't fault you there, Kingsley.' Harry grinned and pulled Daphne closer to his side.
With a wave at Kingsley and his wife, they made room for the next couple in line and walked deeper into the reception area to find their friends.
'Look, there are Hannah and Neville, and Ron and Hermione.' Daphne pointed towards a high bar table near the side of the room.
They made their way through the throng of ball guests towards their friends. That wasn't easy. Many wizards and witches recognised Harry and wanted to shake hands with him and thank him. Soon, he was torn from Daphne's side. Some of the witches hugged him and kissed him on his cheek, despite his best efforts to keep them at bay.
One of them even went so far as to put a scrap of parchment with something scribbled on it into his pocket. She winked at him and slinked back into the crowd.
The next moment, Daphne was by his side again. She grabbed his arm and melted into him with a huff. 'What a hussy!'
He looked down at her. Although he couldn't help but feel flattered by her small show of possessiveness, he had to reassure her.
'You know that I don't care about any other girl than you, Daph.'
Her eyes became soft. 'I know,' she said and squeezed his arm.
At last, they reached their friends. The six young people exchanged handshakes and hugs, and Harry complimented Hannah and Hermione on their looks.
Like Daphne, they had gone all out. Hannah this time wore an empire-style dress in the palest of yellows that emphasised the red highlights in her hair, while Hermione had opted for a periwinkle off-the-shoulder princess-style dress. They looked nice enough, but not as stunning as Daphne.
At the sight of Daphne's dress, Hannah and Hermione exchanged a knowing glance, giggled, and drew Daphne between them for a hushed conversation.
Harry exchanged a look with Ron, who shrugged, while Neville regarded them with an amused grin. Ron drew them into a conversation about the latest Quidditch results, and over their amiable talk, Harry forgot everything about the girls' behaviour.
Daphne turned up by his side a few minutes later, her eyes sparkling and her face flushed.
'Did you enjoy your girl's talk?' Harry asked and greeted her with a kiss on her cheek.
Her lips curved up in a mysterious smile. 'You have no idea, love.'
She put her hand on the table, and he linked his fingers with hers. He was faintly aware of two witches at the table next to them casting surreptitious looks at their joined hands and then sticking their heads together and whispering. He couldn't care less. He and Daphne belonged together, no mean stepmother and no slanderous article in The Daily Prophet was going to change that.
At last, a gong announced the beginning of the evening. Together with the crowd, the six young people drifted into the ballroom. They'd have a formal dinner first, and Harry's stomach growled in anticipation.
Daphne heard the low noise despite the din in the room and chuckled.
'Hungry, love?'
'You have no idea. All I had for lunch were a few sweets. I'm famished.'
'Then it's a good thing we'll have dinner now. You need to keep your strength.'
'I should have known you're planning on wearing me out on the dancefloor.'
Again, the mysterious smile appeared around Daphne's lips.
Harry gave his girlfriend a scrutinising side glance. What was she up to? However, they had reached their table, and this was not the time to ask. He held out a chair for Daphne and sat down next to her.
It was a table for six, and their friends sat down beside them. A grin spread on Harry's face. This was going to be a great night.
Dinner was delicious and long. They made it through seven courses and as many speeches from Ministry officials. At last, the house elves cleared away the last plates and cups, and music wafted through the room.
Minister Shacklebolt opened the ball with his wife, and the other ball guests joined in.
Harry got up from his seat and smiled down at his girlfriend. 'May I have this dance?'
'This one, and every single other one.' She put her hand in his.
'That sounds wonderful.'
They walked to the dance floor. He put his arms around her, and small electric jolts went through his fingers where he touched the bare skin of her back.
She noticed him startle, and her smile became mischievous.
'Snake!' He bent down and gave her a quick kiss as he steered her across the dance floor.
'I thought you liked it.' Daphne mock-pouted at him.
'I do, that's my problem.'
They laughed, and he bent down again and kissed her another time, just because he could. Life was wonderful.
He wouldn't have minded dancing the night away, his girlfriend in his arms. The outside world, however, had other plans. Harry did not know that on Ministry balls, the dance floor was considered the place for casual advances. It didn't take long and the first couple bounced into them.
'Mr Potter! Delighted to meet you! The name is Nettle, Zebediah Nettle. Say, what do you think—'
Harry exchanged a look with his girlfriend. She grimaced and rolled her eyes. He chuckled. 'Exactly my thoughts, love,' and steered her away from the obnoxious Mr Nettle.
Alas, their quiet time didn't last long until the next wizard accosted them, and after that the next.
'That was—not fun,' Daphne said as the dance ended and they clapped for the band. 'Let's return to our table, maybe we'll have some quiet there. I forgot that the Ministry ball is the place to mingle and make new contacts.' Her voice sounded disappointed.
The music started again.
'I think I have a better idea,' Harry said, his wand already in his hand. He cast a charm around the two of them, stashed the wand away, and pulled his girlfriends in his arms.
This time, nobody got near them.
Daphne leaned back in his arms and looked up at him. 'How did you do that?'
'I cast a strong silent Notice-Me-Not Charm around us. It will wear off eventually, but this way we should be able to enjoy ourselves somewhat.'
'Brilliant!' She linked her arms behind his neck and snuggled against him.
The Notice-Me-Not Charm did the trick until they were parched and returned to their table to have a drink. The other two couples were already there. All four of their friends didn't look as if they enjoyed themselves.
'What's the matter,' Harry asked the silent group as he held out her chair for Daphne. 'Cat got your tongue?'
'Nah, people, more likely.' Ron gestured towards the crowd surrounding them. 'Try having a good time on the dance floor with your girlfriend when some obnoxious people who want to suck up to you interrupt you at every turn.'
'It didn't stop at that,' Hermione said. 'They followed us to our table and blabbed on and on.'
Harry looked around. The tables around them were empty, their occupants probably on the dance floor or at the bar. Small groups of wizards and witches sat at other tables farther away. By the looks they cast at their table, although they thought they were discreet about it, the topic of their conversations wasn't hard to guess.
'I can't see anyone near,' he said, turned back to his friends, and poured himself a glass of sparkling water from the bottle that stood in a cooler in the middle of the table.
'That's because Neville scared them away,' Hannah said and took the hand of her fianceé. 'Snakeslayer Longbottom can be scary if he wants to.'
They laughed at that.
'You didn't run into the same problem?' Hermione asked.
Harry puffed out his chest. 'No, thanks to my paramount magical abilities.'
Hermione snorted. 'Yeah, right.'
'It's true,' Daphne said in his defense. 'Harry came up with a neat idea to keep them away.'
Ron grinned. 'What did you do? I didn't hear any magical explosions from the dance floor.'
'I put a Notice-Me-Not Charm around us,' Harry said, and took a sip of his drink.
That simple, yet so obvious solution to their mutual predicament had the other two couples stare at them with various degrees of bafflement.
'I think you broke them, love.' Daphne giggled and leaned into him.
Her remark broke the spell.
'Cor!'
'Brilliant, Harry!'
Hermione jumped up, took her boyfriend's hand, and dragged him to the dance floor.
'Look what you've done, mate! You've unleashed the monster!' Ron called over his shoulder at his best friend.
The other two couples followed them, laughing about the expression of mock-horror on Ron's face.
Thanks to the generous use of the Notice-Me-Not Charm, the three couples had a marvelous time and hardly left the dance floor until the band announced the last song, and the party eventually dissolved.
Harry and Daphne apparated back to Grimmauld Place not much later. Arm in arm, they ambled up to the front door. Harry opened it with a tap of his wand, and they stepped into the hallway.
Daphne turned in his arm until she faced him and slid her arms around his neck.
"I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you, Harry."
"It's me who's got to thank you, Daph." He bent down to kiss her.
She pulled him down to herself. Her lips met his with an eagerness she'd never shown before and set his body on fire.
His hands roamed over the soft skin on her back and down her sides as he deepened the kiss. Gods, what was she doing to him? He ought to stop, or—
Daphne interrupted the kiss, only to tug at his bow-tie until it came off. She flung it away, then opened the buttons of his shirt, buried her head at his collarbone, and kissed and nibbled at his bare skin.
A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat. With the last ounce of willpower he possessed, he put his hands on Daphne's shoulder and gently pushed her away. 'Daph, we need to stop this,' he said, panting.
'Why, don't you like it?' There was that mock-pout again he never could resist.
'That's the problem, I like it too much.'
'Well, what is holding you back then?' She nested her fingers in the hair of the back of his head and pulled him towards her tantalising lips once again.
'Daph—'
'You think too much,' she whispered against his lips and closed the distance between them.
t.b.c.