Disclaimer: All characters, proper names, and the world belong to J.K. Rowling
II. Chapter: Master of puppets
Daphne didn't even need to look behind her to know that the man standing just behind her, who had placed his hand on her shoulder, was none other than Jack Greengrass—her father. This man was defined by a commanding presence, an unshakable calm, and an intellect that could rival even Dumbledore's. Daphne always believed that if, hypothetically, her father and the headmaster were to duel, Jack would emerge victorious. Not because of greater magical strength or superior knowledge of spells, but because of his sharp intellect, cunning, and ability to assess situations with swift and precise judgment. These were the qualities Daphne deeply admired in her father, and they had a profound influence on who she was and who she aspired to become.
Jack Greengrass possessed yet another trait that sometimes sent shivers down Daphne's spine: an incredibly strong will and unwavering confidence—qualities that allowed him to bend reality and others to his will. Likely, even the Imperius Curse wasn't as effective as he was.
She still remembers as eleven years old girl, walked beside her father, as they made their way through the bustling streets of London, heading towards the Ministry of Magic. The vibrant cityscape, filled with the clamor of everyday life, seemed a world away from the cold, calculated environment Jack was accustomed to. Suddenly, a jostling crowd forced Daphne to stumble slightly, causing her to fall to her knees. The fabric of her tights tore, and a faint smear of blood stained the sheer material. Daphne winced but quickly masked her pain, keeping her head held high as she looked up at her father.
Jack's demeanor was unflinching, his face a mask of icy detachment. Without a hint of emotion, he turned his cold, calculating gaze towards the man responsible—a Muggle who had inadvertently bumped into Daphne. The man was drunk as hippogriff. Jack, with an air of deliberate precision, cast the Imperius Curse on the Muggle. The spell took immediate effect, turning the man into a puppet of Jack's will. The Muggle, now under the curse, moved erratically towards the edge of the bridge, his actions both surreal and alarming.
Daphne watched, her expression a blend of shock and curiosity. She observed the unfolding scene with a detached interest, noting the meticulous control her father exerted over the Muggle's actions. The man, now mindlessly driven by Jack's will, was moments away from a fatal leap into the water below. The situation drew the attention of passersby, who rushed to intervene and pull the Muggle back from the edge. As the man was rescued and led away by concerned bystanders, Jack's gaze remained unyielding. He turned to Daphne, his face devoid of any visible emotion.
"Do not think of showing weakness," he instructed her in a cold, measured tone. "Carry yourself with pride, regardless of the circumstances." His words were delivered with a chilling finality, as if to emphasize the importance of maintaining one's composure. Jack then turned his back on the scene, his demeanor unshaken by the chaos he had orchestrated. Daphne, absorbing his stern lesson, rose from the ground with her head held high, her pain and embarrassment momentarily 's principles, emphasizing the privilege of strength and the crushing of weakness, were evident in this moment. The incident, while distressing, was a stark reminder to Daphne of the harsh realities of their world and the unyielding standards her father demanded.
Despite the vast fortune they had in Gringotts, Daphne's father believed that bribing people with money was the path of least resistance. To him, it was something only the weak, those lacking in character, originality, and ingenuity, resorted to. In his eyes, buying loyalty with money was an insult to his intelligence and dignity. It was only by having the right information and skillfully using it at the right time that Daphne's father was regarded as a man of great influence, capable of affecting others directly or indirectly.
Jack was a handsome, tall, and slim middle-aged man. Despite being nearly 45 years old, he had no gray hairs, which were always meticulously groomed. The sides were shaved down to the skin, while the hair on top was styled slightly upward, giving him a more youthful appearance. This often led to confusion among younger women and girls who tried to win his favor. However, Jack exploited this confusion, though not for something as primitive as fleeting sexual encounters—something he despised. He couldn't comprehend betrayal driven by emotions, although any form of betrayal was unacceptable to him. Many times, through feigned politeness and interest, he had managed to gather valuable information at Auror Council meetings at the Ministry of Magic, or had one of the foolish, giggling idiot secretary revealed interesting but, yet, still not uncovered secret of Minister. To be more precise; two secrets.
A secretary, her voice tinged with an excitement, had informed Jack that Augustus Purell, the predecessor to the current Minister of Magic, had a scandalous past. Before his political ascent, Augustus had been involved with women of ill repute, one of whom had borne him a child. This child was hidden away and supported financially through secretive transactions sent abroad. Determined to unearth the truth, Jack meticulously analyzed the financial records, his sharp eyes scanning through columns of numbers and entries. His careful examination revealed that the nearly re-elected Minister had a son residing in the United States under a different name. Despite this significant lead, Jack knew this information alone was insufficient to topple Augustus.
Jack's relentless pursuit of the truth led him to dig deeper into Augustus's past, focusing on his former mistress. His intuition told him that she could not have vanished without a trace. Leveraging his extensive connections at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Jack uncovered that Augustus had been seen visiting a younger woman with the same surname. Augustus had explained her presence by fabricating a tale of a distant relative who had suffered from a misplaced Obliviate, resulting in severe and irreversible damage to her memory and self-awareness
Months of careful investigation and numerous false leads finally brought Jack to a quaint, secluded mental asylum in the picturesque town of Kingussie, Scotland. The asylum, with its ivy-covered stone walls and tranquil surroundings, seemed an odd setting for the intrigue Jack was about to uncover. Inside, he navigated the sterile, dimly lit hallways, each step echoing softly against the cold, tiled floors.
In a sparsely furnished room, Jack employed his Occlumency skills with precision. His penetrating gaze and calm demeanor facilitated his extraction of the woman's fragmented memories, revealing the full extent of Augustus's deception. The truth about the Minister's illicit past unfolded clearly before him; He had repeatedly beaten the young woman, leaving many scars and bruises on her body. He used his hands and feet as well as magic for this purpose. When drunk, his tortures and humiliations of the woman only intensified. One day, completely inebriated, he raped her in her own home and then fled. After the birth of an illegitimate son and the start of his career at the Ministry, Augustus attempted to bribe the woman into silence. At first, this was sufficient, but she increasingly demanded more money from him. The only way out of the situation was to get rid of his mistress, by any means necessary. When he entered her apartment with the intent to kill her, he found himself unable to carry out his intended action as he stood before her with his wand pointed at her. Ultimately, he cast a memory charm on the woman, but incompetently, resulting in a permanent injury.
With the crucial information in hand, Jack skillfully implanted a suggestion in the woman's mind. He subtly influenced her thoughts to ensure she would report her experiences to the "Department of Missing Wizards and Muggles" at the Ministry of Magic. His manipulation was so deft that it seemed as though the idea had originated with her.
Two days later, the fallout from Jack's maneuvering was swift and dramatic. Augustus Purrel, facing imminent scandal, withdrew his candidacy and vanished from public view forever. Thanks to the informant's tip, Jack was able to challenge the nearly re-elected Minister, and the position went to Knot—a clueless fool more concerned with his picture in the Daily Prophet than with the affairs of the Ministry.
Daphne's father's hand rested calmly on her shoulder, unmoving and not exerting much pressure on her body, which helped the young Slytherin clear her thoughts and adopt a posture similar to her father's. Although Jack stood motionless, she knew her father had begun analyzing the situation they were in. She hadn't expected that a simple encounter with Gryffindors could involve him personally in her small social life. She mentally noted to be more meticulous in predicting her actions in the future. The girl was acutely aware that at this moment, she couldn't afford another mistake. One was already far too many.
"Draco, your parents are waiting for you at the special guest entrance. And take those two with you; they've probably forgotten how to walk by now," Jack said coolly, without looking at young Malfoy. His voice, though calm, brooked no opposition. He then focused on Harry.
In response, Draco tore his gaze away from Potter and his companions. He nodded towards Daphne's father and, as he departed, added, "See you at school, Potter," taking Crabbe and Goyle with him, who had stood petrified the entire even a glance at the departing boys, Jack stood beside his daughter. Their resemblance was striking. Raven-black hair, emerald eyes, and the same stance, though in Daphne's case, completely feminine. These were unmistakable traits of Jack's paternity, of which Daphne was proud.
Her father waited a moment for Malfoy to move away from them. Then, he turned to the Golden Trio, Arthur, and Ginny. "Ladies, gentlemen, I hope you're enjoying yourselves despite the… minor inconveniences. Young people are always full of energy, aren't they, Arthur? Especially this young lady." He pointed to Ginny, whose face flushed red. While Jack's words might have seemed like an attempt to diffuse tension between the groups, Daphne knew it was far from the truth.
"Hello, Jack. I didn't expect to see you here today. I thought matters at the Ministry had held you up. Yes, the young are full of energy; you can never get bored with them, can you? Just like in the good old days, ha ha ha," said Mr. Weasley, clearly unsettled by the way Jack spoke about Ginny.
"That's right, there were some issues, but there's nothing that can't be resolved," he replied curtly, then turned to Daphne, who hadn't expected her father to continue the interaction. "Daphne, why don't you introduce your friends?" If Daphne was surprised by her father's words, she didn't show it. She took a quiet breath and said in a cool tone, "Father, meet Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and Harry Potter." She was certain her father knew exactly who they were, perhaps with the exception of Granger. She then added formally, "Everyone, meet my father, Jack Greengrass."
"Pleasure to meet you. Potter, isn't it?" There was a cold interest and challenge in Jack's voice, which made Harry stand up straighter and meet his gaze. "James Potter and Lily Evans—I knew your parents, though I was two years ahead of them. The resemblance is unmistakable. I didn't know them well personally, but their skills were spoken of even among the older students. I had the chance to exchange a few words with James once he became an Auror—an incredible man with incredible skills and a sharp mind. I dare say you share those traits. Oh yes, no one could deny his talents. And I'm sure the same can be said of you. But you certainly have Lily's character. What happened to them was a great tragedy, both for you and for us, the wizarding world."
Harry listened intently to the man Daphne had introduced as Jack Greengrass. The boy was aware of what kind of man Daphne's father was (and might even have felt sorry for her), but any mention of his parents, no matter who it came from, stirred a deep interest and a desire to learn more.
"I wish I could spend more time talking, but time is pressing. I wish you all a pleasant evening—Arthur, Harry." Here, his eyes lingered on the boy with the lightning scar. "I have a feeling we'll meet again." With those words, he nodded to his daughter, signaling that it was time to leave. Turning his back to the rest of the group, he offered Daphne his arm. She accepted the gesture and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. As they made their way to their seats in the stadium, Daphne wondered if she had just triggered an invisible thread that would entwine her fate with that of the group they had encountered. Her father's words about a possible meeting felt more than real.