CHAPTER – 24 THE UNEXPECTED PROPOSITION
As Daphne cleaned up the minor beverage mishap, Harry couldn't help but notice the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes that lasted just a second before she regained her composure. It was a crack in the façade of indifference, a glimpse into her true emotions. This unexpected turn of events seemed to have taken even her by surprise.
The room, filled with the muted chatter of guests and the clinking of glasses, had fallen into an awkward hush. All eyes were on Harry and Daphne, eagerly awaiting their response, as if they were characters in a play on the grand stage of the Malfoy Manor.
Harry's heart raced, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He was keenly aware of the weight of the moment and the significance of his response. It was not just about his own feelings and desires but also the expectations of those gathered in this opulent room.
Draco Malfoy, standing nearby, observed the proceedings with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, clearly enjoying the spectacle he had orchestrated. Hermione Granger, Harry's closest friend, was seated at the other end of the long table, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. She had been instrumental in convincing Harry to attend this gathering, though even she couldn't have foreseen this turn of events.
Harry attempted to collect his thoughts, his mind racing with a thousand questions. Who had concocted this proposal, and why? What was the ulterior motive? Did it have anything to do with the remnants of the Death Eaters still lurking in the shadows, seeking to manipulate the course of his life?
Amidst the tense silence, Daphne's gaze remained locked on him, her usually reserved countenance now tinged with a trace of nervousness. It was a side of her that Harry had never seen before. Their unspoken communication hinted at the surreal nature of the situation, as though both were adrift in uncharted waters, trying to navigate an unfamiliar landscape.
"So," Harry finally spoke, his voice steady but tinged with a note of uncertainty, "what brought about this proposition, and why is it a reasonable one?"
The room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the answer to this question. Harry had hoped to steer the conversation towards the motives behind this sudden twist in his life, hoping to gain some insight into the enigma that was Daphne Greengrass.
Harry's response, delivered with an unwavering conviction, hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. The notion of the curse, the one that had haunted the Black family for generations, was not something he took lightly. It had taken his godfather, Sirius, years to break free from its hold, and Harry was determined to chart his own course.
Daphne, although still bearing the marks of her momentary vulnerability, composed herself admirably. Her eyes met Harry's, and he saw a glimmer of resolve there. She was not just a pawn in this peculiar chess game. She had her own thoughts, her own reasons for going along with this unexpected turn of events.
Sirius remained silent, his expression shrouded in an enigmatic mix of pride and concern. He had relinquished control of the conversation to Harry, but the underlying motive behind this acquiescence remained a puzzle. What was he truly hoping to achieve by letting Harry handle this situation?
Joshua, the patriarch of the Greengrass family, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Harry. "You have the bravery of a Gryffindor, that's evident. But this is not just about you. It's about the generations to come. The curse is relentless and unforgiving, and it doesn't discriminate between the strong and the weak. I've seen too many lives destroyed by it. What you carry in your blood is a legacy that stretches far beyond your own existence."
Harry considered Joshua's words, recognizing the wisdom in his perspective. The burden of the Black family curse was not one he could bear alone, and he had responsibilities that extended beyond his own ambitions.
"Harry, it's a decision that should not be taken lightly," Sirius finally spoke, his tone grave. "And it's not just about the resilience of one person, but the strength of a united family. You may carry the Black name now, and it does indeed count for something. But remember, we Blacks have a history of facing the darkness head-on, not turning away from it."
Daphne's gaze softened, and she nodded in agreement. It was a subtle acknowledgment of the weight of the situation and the legacy that Harry had chosen to embrace. Her role in this was more significant than he had initially thought, and it extended far beyond a mere marriage proposal.
The room, once tense and expectant, had transformed into a crucible of deliberation and choice. The decisions Harry made here would not only shape his future but also the destiny of a family's curse that had loomed over the Black lineage for centuries.
The weight of the conversation continued to press down on Harry, and he couldn't shake the sense of disbelief. The idea of marriage, let alone the complexities of magical lineage and family legacies, was overwhelming for someone his age. Yet, he understood that the circumstances surrounding this proposal were far from ordinary.
Daphne, sitting beside him, her expression now a mix of understanding and patience, seemed to accept the gravity of the situation. This was not a proposal out of romantic inclination but rather one borne out of necessity and a shared burden. Her willingness to be part of this endeavor was both bewildering and admirable.
Sirius, with his wealth of experience, had seen the consequences of families clinging too tightly to their magical bloodlines. The dangers of inbreeding were evident in the histories of some of the ancient wizarding houses. His comment was a stark reminder of the potential pitfalls in pursuing such a course.
Harry felt his face flush with embarrassment as the topic turned to inbreeding, an uncomfortable and taboo subject in any society. He had expected this conversation to be uncomfortable, but the bluntness with which it was addressed still caught him off guard.
When Joshua mentioned that Daphne and he were second cousins and practically strangers in pureblood terms, Harry couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh. The absurdity of it all was not lost on him, and he was beginning to grasp the true complexities of magical bloodlines and their implications.
"What's that got to do with all of this?" Harry asked, his voice wavering. He needed clarification on the connection between their bloodlines and the curse.
Joshua took another sip of his drink, and the room fell into a tense silence. His penetrating gaze settled on Harry as he spoke, "The curse becomes increasingly potent over time, and one bloodline alone might not have the strength to counter it. But if two individuals, each with their own formidable magical abilities, unite through marriage and conceive a child before the curse reaches its zenith in two years, that, my young friend, could make all the difference."
The gravity of the situation was crystal clear. This was not just about his personal feelings or his teenage aspirations. It was about the preservation of family legacies, magical traditions, and the future of generations to come. Harry had a role to play in a much larger story, one that had been set in motion long before he even knew of its existence.
The room seemed to grow even more tense as Joshua's persistence was met with Harry's resistance. Harry had thought the initial proposal was unconventional, but now it appeared that the urgency of the situation was being pushed to its limit. The weight of the responsibility Joshua was placing on him, not just to marry Daphne but to have children with her within a tight timeline, was almost surreal.
Daphne's clenched lips and the intensity of her gaze conveyed her inner turmoil, her frustration with the entire ordeal palpable. The situation was not of her making, yet she was bearing the brunt of the pressure along with Harry.
When Joshua posed the question, "Tell me, Harry, do you find my daughter unappealing?" it was a direct challenge, a test of Harry's character and intentions. Harry's response was honest but evasive, a deliberate effort to avoid causing further discomfort to Daphne. "It's not about that. It's about attempting to force something that shouldn't be forced. It's not fair to either of us."
As Joshua reiterated the consequences of the curse, Harry was taken aback by the audacity of the proposition. The notion of marrying Daphne was one thing, but the idea of embarking on a procreation spree to counter a powerful curse felt surreal. Harry couldn't help but find humor in the situation, even if it was a bit dark. He responded, "What's—"
Joshua calmly took another sip of his drink, his composure unwavering. "The curse becomes increasingly potent with the passage of time. A single Greengrass bloodline, no matter how skilled, may not possess the strength required to counter it. But when two individuals, each endowed with their own formidable magical abilities, unite through marriage, there exists a chance. And should they bring forth an offspring before the curse reaches its zenith in two years…" His intense gaze remained fixed on Harry. "That, my young friend, could be the crucial turning point."
The surreal nature of the proposition hung in the air, and Harry couldn't help but feel like he had stumbled into a bizarre alternate reality, one where he was the key to breaking a family curse and creating a turning point in their history. The weight of the decision he was about to make was unlike anything he had ever faced, and the implications were far-reaching.
As Daphne interrupted the conversation and suggested that she and Harry discuss the matter in private, a ripple of astonishment swept through the room. Her directness and assertiveness were unexpected, and her challenge to Harry was unmistakable. It was as if she were laying down a gauntlet, daring him to make a choice that aligned with her wishes.
Harry was momentarily tempted to defy her request, driven by curiosity to witness her reaction. However, his hesitation had nothing to do with a misguided desire to rescue Daphne. It was rooted in fear, a looming premonition of the potential consequences. Harry knew that the Transmogrifian Torture had failed to harm him, as had the Killing Curse. He was convinced that the bloodline curse wouldn't affect him. But he couldn't shake the haunting image of a woman with blonde curls writhing in agony and succumbing to the curse while giving birth, with Harry unable to intervene. The thought of bearing the responsibility for such suffering haunted him, and he knew he would never forgive himself.
Yet, a nagging voice within Harry's mind raised doubts. It suggested that he might be rationalizing, that his decision was rooted in a primal desire for survival. He couldn't deny the possibility that fear might be driving him to accept a proposition from Joshua Greengrass, a formidable figure, even with Sirius by his side. There was also a sense that, despite its association with a Dark Lord in magical history, there might be a grain of truth in the idea that had been presented.
As Harry contemplated his choices, he felt the weight of the room's expectations pressing down on him. The decision he was about to make would shape not only his own future but also the lives of those around him. The choices he made in this moment had the potential to rewrite the course of history, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was walking a path that had been traversed before, or if he was stepping into uncharted territory.
With a deep exhale, Harry locked eyes with Daphne, accepting her challenge and the need for a private conversation.
"Very well, let's go," he said, and together they left the room, leaving behind the tense atmosphere and the expectant gazes of the others. In that moment, the weight of their conversation and the decisions they were about to make hung heavily in the air. The journey to understanding each other, their shared responsibilities, and the role they would play in each other's lives had only just begun.
Cinnamon Grove, while reminiscent of the grand halls of Hogwarts, presented a unique and enchanting contrast. It was a mansion filled with open spaces that felt like a vast, sunlit field. The sounds of birdsong, warm sunlight, and the playful tickling of grass underfoot created a welcoming and tranquil atmosphere.
Harry couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the surroundings as he and Daphne began their conversation. He inquired, "So, umm… where are we heading?"
Daphne's reply held a hint of sharpness in her tone, a reminder of the delicate balance she was trying to maintain in her father's presence. "Somewhere we can converse without any interference." It was clear that she intended to uphold her prim and proper princess persona until they reached their private destination.
Seeing this as an opportunity to establish common ground, Harry ventured, "Do you play Quidditch?"
Daphne's curiosity was piqued, and she asked, "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering," Harry replied, noting the three Quidditch goalposts in the courtyard he had passed through.
Daphne nodded, her hair elegantly flipping without disrupting her stride. "If you must know, I made it onto the team last year. Unfortunately, the Headmaster canceled the Quidditch matches during the tournament."
Harry's interest was piqued. The Slytherin Quidditch team had been an all-boys team since his first year, and he remembered Peregrine Derrick and Graham Urquhart as the Chaser and Beater, respectively. Their graduation left vacant positions on the team.
He examined Daphne and made an educated guess, "Chaser?"
She confirmed with a nod, "What gave it away?"
Harry's response was concise and to the point. "Derrick and Urquhart graduated last year, so that leaves one Chaser and one Beater position unoccupied. Your build suggests nimbleness but not quite the right physique for a Beater."
Daphne's response was accompanied by a playful smile that seemed to reveal an excess of teeth. "Why, Potter? Do you think I can't be a Beater?"
Harry hastened to clarify, "I didn't mean it that way. It's just that Beaters require a lot of muscle mass. I know Fred and George regularly hit the gym just to stay in shape for Quidditch, and they're also a tad more... playful." The twins' penchant for mischief was well-known in the wizarding world.
Daphne pouted. "Don't I appear playful to you?"
Harry countered, "You seem like you play rough." He could tell she had a competitive spirit.
She snorted in amusement, and Harry grinned, playing along, "Still, having a girl on the team? Draco would be absolutely devastated. I thought he had a penchant for boy bands."
"Draco, is it?" Daphne inquired with a smirk. "And I'm still a Greengrass. Perhaps there's a hidden forbidden romance there. You hide it well, but Malfoy certainly doesn't. 'Potter this, Potter that.' Why must you torment your dear Draco so much?"
Harry chuckled at Daphne's playful banter, appreciating her sense of humor. The conversation had taken a lighthearted turn, providing a welcome break from the weighty discussions of family legacies and curses.
Harry's cautious inquiry about Daphne's Slytherin identity drew a burst of laughter from her. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you are a Slytherin, right?"
Daphne, with a teasing glint in her eyes, responded, "Don't I look the part?"
Harry hesitated, choosing his words carefully to avoid causing offense. "Yeah, it's just… I've never encountered a Slytherin who smiles so frequently."
Daphne arched her chin in defiance. "You might have a better understanding if you ever removed your head from the Weasley coop."
Her straightforward response left Harry momentarily surprised. Daphne didn't mince her words, not one bit.
Shifting the conversation to Quidditch, Harry inquired, "So, about Quidditch. Who's the new Keeper?"
Daphne replied, "Millicent Bulstrode."
The name Bulstrode brought a memory to Harry's mind; he recalled the robust girl from their second year. She did seem like a fitting choice for the Keeper position.
Daphne snorted, amused, "Seems like she's earned the Harry Potter Seal of Approval."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. Speaking with Daphne felt like a refreshing change of pace. She didn't seem to place much stock in the whole Boy-Who-Lived mythology, a contrast to his interactions with most Slytherins, mainly limited to Draco and his cohorts. And Pansy Parkinson, although she was pretty much a crony as well.
Daphne continued the Quidditch discussion, "I know for a fact that Alicia's trying out for the Falmouth Falcons, so there might be an opening there. We'll need tryouts for Keeper and Chaser positions as well. I'm hoping Ginny will fit in, although she's been eyeing my spot since she set foot in Hogwarts."
The conversation flowed naturally, revealing a side of Daphne that Harry had not anticipated. Her directness and her ability to engage in friendly banter were a welcome surprise.
Harry's inquiry about Ginny and her supposed "Prince Charming" was met with a casual response from Daphne. "But she put that on hold for her Prince Charming?" Harry asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "Does the whole of Hogwarts know about her crush?"
Daphne chuckled, revealing a mischievous side. "Try all of Wizarding Britain, Potter. Heck, even Filch probably knows by now. Weasley isn't exactly known for her subtlety."
Harry countered, "Unlike you?" Daphne's response was a beaming smile, taking his remark as a compliment.
As they continued their conversation, they strolled through the vast corridor of Cinnamon Grove. Harry's thoughts drifted to his godfather's earlier warning about Joshua Greengrass. He couldn't help but wonder if there was any truth to Sirius's concerns. Appearances were often deceiving, and the wizarding world had its share of individuals who had hidden their true natures behind a facade.
Following Daphne, they entered a brightly illuminated hall with white walls adorned with enigmatic markings. "We're here," Daphne declared, and she turned to face Harry. The beaming princess persona had vanished, replaced by a more enigmatic expression. She approached him with confidence, breaching his personal space. Harry had to suppress the urge to summon his wand, should the need arise.
"We can converse freely here," she finally remarked, "without any need for formalities."
Harry furrowed his brow, his instincts warning him of the potential danger of this encounter. However, against his better judgment, he found himself saying, "Alright."
A slender smile appeared on Daphne's lips as she retrieved her wand from her robes. Harry tensed slightly, his own wand subtly shifting within his sleeve. He was ready to act if she made any sudden moves, prepared to defend himself against any potential threats. The enigmatic atmosphere of the place only heightened his wariness.
However, instead of an offensive move, she directed her wand toward the door and cast a series of silencing and locking charms. If she noticed any change in his posture when she drew her wand, she gave no indication. Once her incantations were complete, she redirected her gaze toward Harry, her expression now appearing thoughtful and contemplative.
"Did you bring me all the way here just to observe me up close, Greengrass?" Harry inquired, his bluntness evident. He leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed, clearly undaunted by her actions.
Daphne frowned, as if contemplating various approaches for their impending conversation. She could feel the tension in the room, and Harry's nonchalant demeanor didn't make it any easier.
"Just trying to figure out how to handle this without causing an explosion," she explained, her voice carrying a hint of frustration.
Harry quipped, "You could always offer me a calming draught."
Daphne rolled her eyes in response. "Alright, I suppose I'll get straight to the point. Is there a girl in the picture?"
"Excuse me?" Harry replied, feigning ignorance, his green eyes locking onto hers.
"A girl," she repeated bluntly, her gaze unwavering. "You're a guy, and one of your best friends is a girl. But it looks like you've friendzoned Granger, so it's probably not her."
Harry retorted, "What makes you assume there's anyone in the picture?"
Daphne ignored his question entirely, her thoughts racing as she searched for the right words. "I highly doubt it's the little Weasley. But you did seem to moon over Chang like a lovesick puppy last year. Though I believe you could do better."
"Wait a moment, just what makes you my matchmaker?" Harry asked incredulously, his tone laced with amusement.
Daphne responded by arching a delicate eyebrow. Her lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned against the back of a nearby chair. "Let's call it a vested interest in your love life, Potter. After all, it could affect our future dealings, couldn't it?"
"Potter, I understand that you must harbor a great deal of resentment toward my father for placing you in this predicament."
Harry remained silent, allowing her to continue, fully aware that her contemplative eyes never wavered from his face. His mind raced with thoughts, but he chose not to voice them just yet.
Daphne lowered her gaze. "You might not remember it, but this isn't the first time we've interacted. We actually met on the Hogwarts Express. You bumped into me, muttering an apology as you searched for your compartment. At the time, I thought you were a nervous Muggle-born with crooked glasses and bright green eyes."
Harry found himself at a loss for words, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He had no recollection of that encounter on the Hogwarts Express, and he couldn't help but wonder how many more of these hidden moments from his past were yet to be revealed.
"I encountered you again during that Yule," Daphne went on. "You would sit in front of the mirror for hours, gazing at it."
Harry did a double take. "The Mirror of Erised?"
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Do you know of any other mirrors?" Without waiting for his response, she continued, "I often wondered what you saw in that mirror. I presumed, given your status as the Boy-Who-Lived, that you saw your parents."
Harry was taken aback. He had, in fact, spent countless hours in front of the Mirror of Erised, yearning to see his parents, but he had never shared that with anyone.
Harry inquired, "Do you have any… you know, any memories of your mother?"
She shook her head. "My father says she passed away shortly after giving me my name."
Harry felt like the most insensitive person in the world. "I'm sorry—"
"Save your apologies for when they matter, Potter. You didn't know her. Or me, for that matter."
Her acerbic remark caused him to flinch. It was clear that there was a lot more to Daphne than he had ever imagined, and he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of curiosity about her life and experiences.
Daphne continued, her voice carrying a sense of vulnerability. "Before I started Hogwarts, my father informed me that my life was intertwined with yours. He always believed that you were the Greengrass Vessel. Don't let him know I revealed this, but he's been monitoring you your entire life, even during your time with your Muggle relatives. After I discovered who you were, I was instructed to try and approach you. But with the feud between you and Malfoy, and Professor Snape's inexplicable aversion to you, I didn't have the courage to do so."
Harry offered, "You could have given it a try."
Daphne responded, "Slytherin, not Gryffindor." They shared a chuckle at the familiar rivalry between the houses.
Harry added softly, "You could have tried. I would have listened."
"I believe it was the preconceived notions about you that made things complicated."
Harry snorted. "What notions? I was just an ignorant kid with no knowledge of the wizarding world."
"True, but that's not what everyone else believed," Daphne explained. "We witnessed you undergo a hatstall, and some of us even held hopes for you to end up in Slytherin. Most hatstalls do wind up in my House. Instead, you were sorted into Gryffindor, with a Weasley and a Muggle-born as friends. The Weasleys may not have a seat on the Wizengamot, but their reputation as the Headmaster's staunchest supporters is widely recognized."
Harry recalled, "I also declined Malfoy's offer on the Hogwarts Express."
Daphne laughed at the memory. "You should have seen him. He was practically over the moon at the prospect of becoming best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived, and then you thoroughly rejected him right in front of Crabbe and Goyle. He looked ready to commit murder after that. Uncle Lucius—"
"Uncle?" Harry inquired, raising an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by this new piece of information.
She shrugged. "He visits frequently. My father's dealings with the Malfoys are well-known. Before this entire Sirius Black situation arose, I was meant to marry Draco."
Harry drew in a sharp breath, a mixture of surprise and confusion rushing through him. Moments like these served as stark reminders that, despite her seemingly friendly demeanor, Daphne Greengrass remained an enigma. The cynical part of his mind couldn't help but question if her empathy and attempts to put him at ease were merely tactics to lower his defenses. Perhaps he was merely being overly paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there might be a concealed wand aimed at him, even though he was paranoid.
"—ter? Potter?"
Her words pulled him out of his contemplation. "Um... yes?" he admitted sheepishly.
"Did you hear a single word I just said?" Daphne inquired.
"You lost me at Malfoy," Harry confessed. "I still think you could have approached me and said something. It would have been nice to have someone to consider family in the magical world."
Daphne burst into laughter, her musical laughter filling the room.
Harry regarded her quizzically. "What's so funny?"
"Did you realize that my father essentially offered you my hand in marriage?" Daphne chuckled. "With all this talk of family, I feel more like a sister than a potential fiancée."
Harry pointed out, "I haven't said yes, you know."
Daphne countered, "You haven't walked away either."
"So... about Draco. If you were supposed to marry him, why did you..."
"Stalk me?" Harry's words rendered his cheeks flushed.
Daphne chimed in, "Well, it's the truth. I did observe you. Not that you ever noticed. You only had eyes for Draco. Perhaps you would have seen me as competition."
Harry snorted, a light smile playing on his lips. "I was quite oblivious back then, wasn't I?"
Daphne nodded, a fond smile appearing on her face. "Yes, you were, and perhaps it was for the best. It allowed me to understand you without you being aware of it."
Their conversation continued, taking them into the early hours of the morning as they shared stories of their Hogwarts experiences and the uncharted territory of their futures.
"Father had no way to confirm whether you were a Vessel. Plus, everyone knew Draco was destined to become the Lord Black. We needed access to the Library to break the curse, and Draco was my sole option."
Harry inquired, "I thought he was with Parkinson."
Daphne nibbled on her lip, considering how much to reveal. "Well, he still is. Our arrangement was intended to be... one of convenience. We'd gain access to the Black Library, while Pansy would become Lady Malfoy, and I'd continue as the Greengrass Lady. Apart from the obligatory responsibilities, I wouldn't have to be with him very often. In fact, Uncle Lucius wanted Astoria for the Black Ladyship, contending that it would be easier if both sisters were married and living together. Personally, I believe he wanted the entire Greengrass lineage for himself."
Harry gazed at her in growing alarm. "And you were fine with that?"
"Well, Father put his foot down on the matter," Daphne explained. "Astoria aspires to be an Unspeakable and opted out of this. Furthermore, she isn't truly a Greengrass by blood, so it's not like she'd inherit anything. Father respected her wishes."
"And you?" Harry questioned, his curiosity apparent.
Daphne nonchalantly shrugged. "Marriages between ancient houses are seldom based on love, Potter. I don't have to like it, but I would have complied."
"And then this summer happened."
Daphne confirmed, "...Yes." A faint smile graced her lips. "Dad was over the moon. You should have seen him. Our vault was depleted by twenty thousand Galleons, and he was dancing like he had just doubled our fortune. Sirius Black designating you as his heir was the cherry on top. With a single decision, everything changed."
"I thought your father and Lucius Malfoy were best buddies," Harry mentioned.
Daphne snorted. "In business, there's no such thing as permanent allies or enemies. Only interests. Lucius's interests aligned with ours, and I was meant to marry his son, Draco. Naturally, they were quite close."
Their conversation delved further into the complexities of their families, the intricacies of pure-blood politics, and the role they were expected to play in shaping their futures. As the night wore on, a sense of understanding and camaraderie grew between them, forging an unexpected bond that transcended the boundaries of their predetermined destinies.
Harry pressed further, his curiosity piqued. "And now?"
Daphne hesitated, her expression growing more serious. "Well..." she began slowly. "A number of scenarios could unfold. If you decide to marry me, my father will demand the return of his earlier payment to Uncle Lucius, and he won't be pleased. If the rumors I've heard hold any truth, he might attempt to intimidate him by invoking the Dark Lord's name, especially if the Ministry persists with its current approach. Draco might try to rally Slytherin House against me and make my life a nightmare, or we might both try. Losing his status as the Black heir would be a significant blow to him. He's invested heavily in that."
Harry's concern deepened. "Wait a moment. You believe he's back?"
"Of course," Daphne replied drily. "It's not in your nature to lie about such matters."
Harry's heart raced in his chest. Even his closest friends had chosen to believe otherwise, especially when he needed their support the most. Ron, Hermione, Gryffindor House—every one of his so-called family members at Hogwarts had let him down in this regard. Yet this Slytherin girl, with whom he had never even spoken before this, seemed to understand him better than all of them combined.
He wasn't quite sure how to process that. Despite not having exchanged a single word with him over the years, Daphne seemed to have a profound understanding of him. Harry couldn't decide whether to feel flattered or paranoid about it. If she knew him that well, what else did she know?
"Relax," Harry reminded himself, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart. "You're not under attack." However, that didn't mean he wasn't in some form of danger. He needed more answers.
As the night drew on, their conversation delved deeper into the complex web of political alliances, old grudges, and the lurking threat of Voldemort's return. Harry found himself appreciating Daphne's forthrightness and the genuine concern she displayed. She offered insights and perspectives that no one else had, and for the first time, he felt like he had someone in his corner who understood the gravity of the situation.
Harry hesitated for a moment before asking the next question, aware of the gravity of the topic. "This curse..." he inquired hesitantly, "what's it like?"
Daphne pursed her lips in contemplation, her eyes showing a mix of pain and resignation. "On most days, it's manageable. But occasionally, I experience excruciating pain, and even attempting to cast a simple Lumos spell feels like I'm being subjected to the Cruciatus curse. It leaves me physically and mentally drained for the entire day. Pain-relieving potions offer some respite, but my body has become immune to them over time. The Headmaster and Professor Snape are aware of this condition. When it happens, I either spend the rest of the day in the Hospital Wing or locked in my room."
Harry winced at the thought, imagining the constant battle she waged with the curse.
"And this marriage," he paused, considering how to phrase the question delicately, "how do you feel about it?"
Daphne arched an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "About marrying you?"
"Yes," Harry confirmed.
"In a single word? Disappointed."
Harry felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Whatever emotions flickered across his face were enough to make Daphne backtrack.
"In me, not you," she clarified quickly. "Honestly, I've probably resented you a little. I carried the Greengrass name, its duties and responsibilities. My father raised me in a way that adhered to the Greengrass Charter. I had the blood, the mindset, and I trained myself in magic from the moment I could hold a wand. I endured the curse causing me unrelenting agony every single day. Yet, I wasn't the Vessel."
Her lips twisted with bitterness. "You were. You, who didn't even know your lineage. You, who spent time gallivanting with Weasley and Granger, exploring places where you didn't belong. I practiced every day and night, tormented by the fear that the curse would consume me before I could fulfill my role as the Lady, resulting in sleepless nights. You went about doing as you pleased, and yet, you manifested the strongest Patronus seen in Wizarding Britain in decades. I was the Heir, and yet, somehow, you, who had never even acknowledged the Greengrass name, were the Vessel. Yes, I resented you."
The weight of Daphne's words hung heavy in the air, and Harry was left speechless, grappling with the revelation of the burden she had carried for so long and the emotions she had kept hidden.
Harry swallowed hard. "And... now?"
"Situations change," she replied. "Flexibility is a highly regarded trait in Slytherin House. I may have blamed you, but the truth is, you are not to blame for any of this. You didn't know about your heritage, and for better or worse, you didn't suffer from this curse. Now, like a classic hero from the books, you're on the verge of agreeing to marry a girl you've barely spoken two words to, all because you think it's the right thing to do."
Harry stammered, "I haven't said yes."
Daphne nonchalantly added, "You haven't said no, either."
Harry shifted uncomfortably, grappling with the weight of the decision before him.
"I was supposed to marry Draco, but it was meant to be a marriage of convenience," Daphne explained. "Beyond the obvious duties, it would have been like living with a stranger. If you wish, we can have the same arrangement, a marriage of convenience. I don't expect you to be some Prince Charming, and you don't have to concern yourself with being shackled to a girl you don't know and don't want to know. However, my father might want to confer the Lordship of Greengrass upon you, as would be your right as... my husband. But if you prefer not to deal with it, you can simply authorize me to handle it. You're free to marry whomever you choose and make her the Lady Potter. I'd only request that you continue to attend public events with me from time to time, for the sake of appearances, if nothing else."
Harry's amusement disappeared, and he grew serious, contemplating the gravity of the choices before him.
"That's why I wanted to speak to you privately," she continued. "Do you still have reservations about marrying me? I'm not sure what else to offer you."
Blue eyes locked onto green. Harry shook his head and said, "I'm not interested in compensation, Greengrass. I... I have no need for it. I didn't come to this meeting expecting something in return. A father wrote to me, claiming to discuss a maledictus that affected his daughter. And me. I understand his problem and the solution. I may not like it, but sometimes, a choice isn't really a choice at all."
Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and started heading for the door.
"WAIT!" Daphne called out.
He froze in his tracks, his movements grinding to a halt like the gears of an old, rusted machine. Daphne, with her graceful poise, approached him from behind. "I understand that you may not wish for anything in return," she began, her voice carrying a soft determination, "but I'd much rather repay you. My pride as a Greengrass won't settle for any less than that."
He remained silent, the tension palpable in the air between them.
With a deep breath, she continued, her words laced with sincerity. "I'm aware that you have a trial in a week. If my father offers you help, I implore you not to reject it. My father has been a stalwart presence on the Wizengamot for many years, and his knowledge is unparalleled. I understand your reluctance to accept assistance, but this is the Wizengamot we're talking about. Please, let him help you. Let me help you. It's the least I can do in exchange for your kindness."
"I'm not pitying you," Harry finally responded, a hint of his own pride in his tone.
Daphne met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "You've willingly chosen to marry a girl you didn't even know existed, without any expectation of compensation. However you frame it, you've shown me kindness, and that's the truth. My pride simply cannot accept that. Please trust that I will do everything in my power to make this situation better for you."
Harry hesitated for a moment, weighing the decision. "Very well. But if we're truly going through with this, there's something about me that you should be aware of. If you still wish to proceed with this marriage, I won't object."
Daphne nodded, her eyes filled with a newfound sense of determination as they both faced an uncertain future, together.
Daphne's face broke into a warm smile. "Don't worry, Potter," she said with a hint of amusement. "I already informed you that my father knows everything worth knowing about you."
Harry's expression shifted, and he continued, "This revelation is quite recent and, to be honest, a bit peculiar. Even I struggle to believe it."
Daphne's laughter bubbled up softly. "I doubt it could be stranger than the fact that you are a Greengrass Vessel, that I've been keeping tabs on you since your first year, and that my father proposed your marriage on the spot."
Harry locked eyes with Daphne, his gaze unwavering. "Very well. The truth is, when I underwent the ancestry test, it revealed something quite extraordinary. I am a Vessel, but not of the Greengrass line. At this very moment, my name is Harry James Peverell, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell."
A profound silence hung in the air as Daphne absorbed the weight of his revelation.
Finally, she broke the silence with a bemused, "Well, bugger."
With this unexpected twist, the future grew even more uncertain for both Harry and Daphne, as they found themselves bound by fate to a marriage neither of them had anticipated or prepared for. Their journey together was about to take a path they could have never predicted.
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