CHAPTER 43: RECONNECTING AT SCHOOL
As the train rumbled steadily towards Hogwarts, the unresolved debate lingered like a ghost, its presence a constant reminder of the seeds of doubt that had been planted within Pansy's mind. It prompted her to embark on a journey of introspection, compelling her to reevaluate her perceptions of a boy whom she had never genuinely endeavored to understand.
"Why should we believe him, Daphne? Remember his grandiose claims in our second year about slaying Slytherin's monster? Pure fiction!" Pansy retorted, her skepticism palpable.
Daphne interjected calmly, fixing her gaze on Pansy. "He didn't fabricate anything," she countered. "All we received was confirmation from the Headmaster that the monster in the Chamber of Secrets had been dealt with. And, by the way, Harry was the one who slew the monster."
Pansy shot her a derisive look, doubt etched on her features. "So, now you're suddenly a believer?"
Daphne nodded, her demeanor unwavering. "Yes. He shared a memory of the incident with me in our Pensieve. After witnessing it, I'd be foolish not to believe him."
"He did?" Tracey and Astoria chimed in unison, exchanging intrigued glances before fixing each other with challenging stares.
"Yes," Daphne confirmed, a smirk playing on her lips as she crossed her arms. "My father, Sirius Black, and I watched it alongside him. It was a colossal basilisk, over a thousand years old. I nearly fainted at the sight of it." She shuddered, the memory vivid in her mind. "That monstrous creature stretched over seventy feet, capable of swallowing Harry whole in a single gulp. Yet, he vanquished it with the Sword of Gryffindor."
"You've got to be joking!" Tracey exclaimed, her eyes widening in astonishment.
Pansy, with an eye roll, waved off the tale as mere exaggeration.
"I assure you, it's not," Daphne persisted calmly. "But let me elaborate further. My father reached out to Dumbledore regarding the basilisk, exploring the possibility of its utilization. According to the Laws of Conquest, Harry possesses a legitimate claim to it. However, he's agreed to reduce his share to forty percent, while forty percent will be allocated to Hogwarts. My father will receive ten percent, and even that share is estimated to be several hundred thousand galleons after the harvesting process."
Pansy blinked, her skepticism momentarily giving way to astonishment. "Hold on, did you just say several hundred thousand?"
Daphne leaned in, a glint of knowing in her eyes. "Yes, Pansy. Several hundred thousand. This basilisk is an exceedingly rare magical creature, and its components are highly sought after in potion-making and magical studies. With Harry's claim and the agreements in place, we're anticipating a substantial windfall."
Daphne smirked. "No, not just a hundred thousand. Several hundred thousand, and that's merely ten percent of the anticipated profits. Consider how significantly this will augment House Potter's wealth. My father has already hired a runologist and a curse-breaker for the task, to commence by Christmas. Additionally, he's enlisted Harry's assistance in deciphering the secrets of the Chamber, believing that Harry's Parseltongue abilities could prove invaluable in comprehending and translating Salazar's lost writings. Moreover, Harry has already been bestowed with the title of Warlock by the Wizengamot. Can you fathom the influence he'll wield in the future?"
Tracey let out a low whistle, clearly impressed by the magnitude of Harry's potential.
"But let's return to the matter at hand," Daphne resumed. "During his sojourn at our manor, Harry confided in me that his primary concern is simply living his life and ensuring that his family legacy continues beyond him."
"You mean..." Tracey whispered, catching onto the unspoken implications.
"That he remains impartial amidst the conflict," Daphne clarified. "Harry Potter harbors no allegiance to the Ministry nor to the forces of darkness. However, if anyone dares to threaten him or those he holds dear, he won't hesitate to retaliate." Daphne locked eyes with Pansy, her resolve unyielding. "And yes, I stand by him."
Sensing a shift in the conversation, Pansy arched an eyebrow. "You're aware the Dark Lord will never—"
"Then the responsibility lies with the Dark Lord," Daphne interjected without a moment's hesitation. "Harry embodies not just one, but three Noble Houses. He has revived a Family Magic long thought lost to the annals of time. If the Dark Lord genuinely seeks to preserve our traditions and our wizarding heritage, then he ought to stand by Harry, not seek to eliminate him. Unless..." Daphne's lip curled in disdain, "it's not about that at all, but rather about blind prejudice."
Pansy's nostrils flared, tension crackling in the air between them. "You're drawing a line in the sand now, Daphne."
"No, I'm not, and neither is Harry," Daphne retorted firmly. "Believe me, he won't instigate the conflict, but if provoked, he will undoubtedly finish it. We all remember what occurred at the conclusion of the Third Task, don't we?"
"Looks like Big Sis snagged herself a top-notch husband!" Astoria quipped, attempting to diffuse the tension. "And I gained a pretty cool brother-in-law."
"Brother-in-law?" Daphne teased, arching an eyebrow playfully. "I recall you saying, 'Do you think Papa would mind if both of us married Potter?'"
Astoria's cheeks flamed red as she realized her slip-up.
"Now I'm not even sure if you're joking," Tracey remarked, shaking her head at their light-hearted banter. "But seriously, is that even allowed? Earlier, Pansy mentioned you all marrying Malfoy, and now this... wouldn't it be... you know..."
She trailed off, struggling to find the right words to articulate her confusion.
"Illegal?" Pansy interjected knowingly. "It's a requirement. But I suppose you wouldn't know. You're only a half—"
Daphne swiftly cut off Pansy's derogatory comment. "What Pansy means," she interjected pointedly, much to Pansy's irritation, "is that Harry is obligated to enter into multiple marriages to fulfill his duties as Lord of his Houses."
"And which House," Pansy inquired, abandoning her facade of detached curiosity, "are you marrying into?"
"House Black," Daphne disclosed. "It's the House I was contractually bound to marry into. Our first-born will inherit the title of Lord Greengrass. Until then, I'll fulfill the responsibilities of its lady and represent the House at the Wizengamot."
"And Potter?" Pansy pressed further, intrigued by the intricacies of the arrangement.
"He's content to let me handle the politics. Claims it's not his cup of tea," Daphne remarked, her tone tinged with amusement.
This statement coming from the same individual who had thrown the Wizengamot into disarray on his very first day. Truly, it was baffling.
"I'm puzzled," Tracey admitted, voicing the lingering confusion in the room. "Why does the House matter? I mean, whether it's Black or Greengrass, you'll still be married to him, won't you?"
Daphne noticed Pansy's jaw tightening at the question. Tracey, one of the few half-bloods navigating Slytherin, managed to maintain her status thanks to her mother's affiliation with Daphne's father, which provided the shield of protection from House Greengrass. Pansy, however, lacked subtlety, preferring a more direct approach to problem-solving. Her sorting into Slytherin remained a perplexing enigma to many.
"It matters," Daphne explained patiently, "because the Houses involved hold noble status."
"And?" Tracey prodded, still attempting to grasp the significance.
Daphne sighed softly. "Alright, this might take some time to explain. But I'll lay it out for you. You see, there's a substantial disparity between Houses and Nobility. Do you know what that is?"
Tracey furrowed her brow in contemplation. "I'd venture to say wealth and ancient bloodlines, but I suspect it's tied to the concept of Family Magic, isn't it?"
Daphne breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that Tracey wasn't entirely oblivious to the nuances of wizarding society. "Exactly. Every Noble Family possesses what we refer to as Family Magic, something intrinsic to our bloodline. It doesn't matter how skilled you are in a particular field, how much power you wield, or even the quality of your wand. Without the blood connection to a specific Noble House, you simply cannot access that Family Magic. The same principle applies to House Black and now... House Potter."
"I think I'm beginning to grasp it," Tracey remarked, nodding slowly as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.
Daphne's eyes gleamed with a determined spark. "What's crucial to understand is that Lords and Ladies typically hold significant control over their Family Magic. Attempting to merge or mix Family Magics is a perilous endeavor that usually ends in either failure or disaster. Therefore, we abstain from such attempts. Instead, a specific ritual is conducted during... well, during copulation," she admitted, a faint blush coloring her cheeks, "to determine which Family Magic will be inherited by the offspring. That's how I can ensure that our first-born will... inherit the mantle of Greengrass."
As the conversation veered into more personal territory, Tracey, still absorbing the intricate details, found herself blushing slightly at the intimate topic.
"Many pureblood families prioritize advantageous traits when arranging marriages," Daphne elaborated. "Some families possess talents in transfiguration, others excel in runes and potions. They might even have unique affinities—like the Longbottoms with their green thumb or the Dagworth-Grangers renowned for their expertise in potions. It's plausible that Hermione Granger could be a distant descendant of the Dagworth-Grangers, explaining her proficiency in the subject. If, for instance, Neville Longbottom were to wed Hermione Granger, their offspring could potentially inherit both sets of abilities, enriching the family bloodline."
"And increasing the family wealth," Tracey added, comprehending the underlying dynamics of the discussion.
"Indeed," Daphne confirmed.
"I thought it was all about maintaining 'purity' of bloodlines," Tracey remarked, recalling the prevalent narrative among certain pureblood families.
"It is," Pansy interjected, her disapproval palpable as she glared at Daphne. "And now Daphne has succumbed to Potter's influence, using a squib and a Muggle-born as examples, of all things?"
Unfazed by Pansy's disdain, Daphne continued. "For Noble families, however, it's quite the opposite. The offspring must solely inherit the Family Magic of one House. Potter is... an anomaly, I suppose. His father never possessed the Peverell bloodline, and his mother was Muggle-born, so it's a mystery how he inherited both. But because every child I bear will carry the Greengrass lineage through me, Harry must marry a witch from another family to ensure the independent perpetuation of House Potter and its Family Magic through a distinct family line."
"No worries," Astoria interjected cheerfully. "I'm not truly a Greengrass. I'm a Pince-Carrow."
Daphne let out a frustrated sigh, clearly exasperated by the unexpected turn in the conversation.
"And he's compelled to adhere to this?" Tracey queried, attempting to comprehend the intricate web of obligations and expectations.
"Yes," Pansy affirmed bluntly. "It's uncommon for individuals to establish multiple lines of descent, especially among nobility. Draco bears the Black bloodline, hence he was obliged to wed two women to satisfy both the Black and Greengrass lines."
"And Malfoy?" Tracey inquired.
"I said obligated, not confined," Pansy retorted, suggesting that Draco might not strictly adhere to his obligations.
"... I understand," Tracey acknowledged, processing the new information. "But now that Potter is the heir to the Black family—"
"He's entitled to only me," Pansy declared, adopting an air of superiority. "The future Lady Malfoy. He may take a few concubines, but as you're a half-blood, you don't stand a chance." She sneered. "Perhaps Daphne can assist you in that regard. She's likely already compiling a list of Muggle-borns and blood-traitors to add to her harem."
Daphne rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Pay her no mind, Tracey. The situation with Harry and House Black is rather complicated. While Harry isn't directly related to House Black by blood, Mr. Black has magically adopted him, which may grant him some influence over the inheritance when the time comes. Frankly, I had assumed Mr. Black would have preferred Harry to marry Auror Tonks. She has Black blood in her veins, and they appeared quite compatible."
"This is utterly absurd!" Tracey exclaimed. "You're not even married yet, and you're already discussing sharing your future husband with others."
"At least it's not Granger," Pansy muttered under her breath.
"Welcome to the world of nobility," Astoria remarked sarcastically. "Believe me, Trace, you're better off being a half-blood. It's not all about lineage and traditions, you know."
"I'm beginning to realize that," Tracey admitted. "But seriously, can any of you honestly say you'd be fine with your husband sharing another woman's bed?"
"It wouldn't have been necessary with Draco," Pansy interjected, her tone laced with smugness. "I'd simply have to charm Daphne as well."
Daphne recoiled at the mental image. Like everyone else, she desired a partner who would be faithful to her and her alone, someone with whom she could secure the future of her lineage. But such hopes seemed futile, especially with the ominous specter of the blood curse looming over her.
She let out a resigned breath. "There are... reasons why my father orchestrated the marriage contract with Draco. Reasons that necessitate my union with the Black family."
"Even though it's Potter instead of Draco," Tracey pointed out.
"... Yes," Daphne confirmed.
"And you're not unhappy with this?" Tracey pressed further.
Daphne paused, chewing on her lip as she weighed her response. "It's not as though I would have been the sole wife, even if it were Draco. I'd still have to endure Pansy's presence every single day—"
"Bitch!" Pansy snapped.
"But yes, I'm content with the change in circumstances."
A marriage of convenience with Malfoy had been the initial expectation. However, after getting to know Harry personally, Daphne found herself hoping for something more. Something... better.
"Even if it's the Gryffindor Golden Boy?" Tracey probed, delving into the depths of Daphne's sentiments regarding Harry.
"Especially," Daphne affirmed.
"She's simply delusional," Pansy interjected dismissively. "Or willingly blind if she believes being with Potter is an improvement."
"I'm not suggesting it'll be without challenges—" Daphne began.
"Get real, girl," Pansy interrupted. "You're in denial, whereas I'm not. Are you seriously telling me you're oblivious to how that Veela woman has ensnared your fiancé? He practically announced their friendship to the world at that party, didn't he?"
"He also mentioned me and my father," Daphne countered.
"And what of it?" Pansy scoffed. "Can you honestly say you're not apprehensive about Fleur Delacour? She's a Veela, and you're aware of their allure. It's been a month since that event. Tell me, are you completely convinced that Potter's relationship with Delacour is purely platonic?"
A chill settled in Daphne's stomach, but she maintained her composure. "You're just—"
"Stating the facts?" Pansy sneered. "I've been keeping a close eye on him. Potter spent a significant amount of time in the company of Delacour all summer."
"She's his Account Manager," Daphne countered.
"And how many Account Managers go on ice-cream dates with their employers?" Pansy retorted.
Daphne didn't falter, but she couldn't deny the weight of Pansy's words.
"Mark my words," Pansy declared, rising from her seat to meet Daphne's gaze squarely. "Potter is bewitched. I'd wager my entire Hogsmeade allowance that Delacour has already ensnared him. They're Veela, for Merlin's sake. The one thing they desire more than gold and jewels is stealing men away from their partners. Do you honestly believe she won't do the same to you?"
Daphne hesitated, her gaze drifting away as she struggled to compose herself. Denying Pansy's accusations would be futile. She was well aware of Harry's close friendship with Delacour.
"Well?" Pansy demanded, pressing for a response.
Taking a deep breath, Daphne turned her attention to the scene unfolding outside the window. Pansy's words lingered in the air like an unspoken challenge. The prospect of spending the upcoming school year with Harry at Hogwarts filled her with a peculiar sense of satisfaction—a testament to her position as his betrothed. With resolve building within her, she silently vowed to ensure their bond endured, regardless of the obstacles they faced.
As the conversation in the compartment carried on, Daphne's gaze remained fixed on the trio outside. She observed the animated exchange between Harry, Sirius Black, and Andromeda Tonks, the latter two bidding him farewell with warm smiles. Meanwhile, the bustling activity of the Weasley family, their red hair a distinctive sight, unfolded around them, with Molly Weasley orchestrating their movements with a practiced ease.
Pansy, always the provocateur, leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "If you're so certain about Potter, he should join us. After all, you're to be wed. Surely you deserve some of his time?"
Daphne's eyes narrowed, her mind whirring with possibilities. She was determined to make a statement, not just to Pansy but to herself. Across the platform, she caught sight of Sirius Black passing a small package to Harry, who tucked it away into his pocket before embracing the older man warmly.
"He usually sits with his friends," Daphne retorted, though a trace of uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
Pansy, ever the cunning strategist, pressed on, "But he shares a dorm with Weasley. Surely he can spare some time for his fiancée?"
A spark of determination flared within Daphne. She recognized the game Pansy was playing, and she was ready to play it better. A sense of vindictive satisfaction crept into her thoughts. After all, Harry was her betrothed—where else should he sit if not beside her?
The temptation proved irresistible. Daphne discreetly withdrew her wand, casting a listening jinx towards the Weasley group. She couldn't risk casting directly on Harry without attracting attention, but eavesdropping on their conversation seemed like a reasonable compromise.
As Harry's voice reached her ears, Daphne listened intently. "Shall we go find a compartment?" he suggested.
Ron added, "We're—well, Ron and I—are supposed to go into the Prefect carriages."
Daphne's mind raced, piecing together a plan. If Harry was intending to spend the journey in the Prefect carriages, she needed a compelling reason for him to reconsider. She exchanged a significant glance with Pansy, silently acknowledging the challenge that lay ahead.
"We could use a Prefect escort, too," Daphne proposed, a cunning glimmer in her eyes. "It would be a shame if you two were left without the company of your betrothed, wouldn't it, Potter?"
Surprise flashed across Daphne's face as the reality of the situation dawned on her. Granger as a prefect made logical sense—she was practically a miniature McGonagall. But Weasley, chosen over Harry? It was an unexpected turn of events that left Daphne questioning the motives behind such a decision. What was transpiring at Hogwarts?
"Oh," Harry responded, his tone tinged with resignation. "Right. Fine."
Ever the supportive friend, Weasley chimed in, "Just the beginning, mate. Meet the Head Boy and Head Girl, and then you're done!"
But Granger, true to form, refused to let the matter rest. "That's not all, and you know it! We have to patrol the corridors. Honestly, Ronald—"
Daphne found herself tuning out of the conversation, her thoughts racing as she swiftly reassessed the situation. With Granger and Weasley occupied with their prefect duties, the path to persuading Harry to sit with her seemed to be clearing. This unforeseen development could indeed work in her favor.
Sensing the opportunity, Pansy locked eyes with Daphne. "What do you say? Care to make that wager?"
Daphne hesitated, her mind weighing the potential risks. "If this is some ploy to provoke him and—"
Pansy cut in with a sly smile, "Oh, perish the thought. I simply want to inquire about Delacour. Unless you're afraid of facing the truth?"
Daphne clenched her jaw, the challenge laid bare before her. Pansy arched an eyebrow, awaiting Daphne's response.
"Well?" Pansy prodded.
"Fine," Daphne agreed, her resolve firm. "You're on."
The journey to Hogwarts was about to transform into a battleground, and Daphne was prepared to navigate the complex interplay of social dynamics, hidden agendas, and subtle power struggles that lay ahead.
Step into the world of PEVERELL_MAGIC on P.a.t.r.e.o.n! Experience where tales unfold, magic ignites, and the future takes shape.
For exclusive support and early access to upcoming chapters, join us at PEVERELL_MAGIC on P.a.t.r.e.o.n.
Note: Get the scoop a day before anyone else! Updates release on P.a.t.r.e.o.n before they hit FanFiction. Join us for free to read ahead!
