Getafix

"Oh Potter, I want your hot pork in me," said Daphne Greengrass from behind him, breathily.

Harry sighed on the couch at Grimmauld place. "Really?" he asked. Her sense of humour was quite smutty. But Harry was British, so he could cope. Stiff… upper lip and all that.

"Well it's nearly dinnertime," she added, doubtless smirking. Harry got up off the couch and went downstairs to go cook more roast pork. Which he wasn't even going to get all of.

He didn't, but being (mentally) in Hawaii had him pretty mellow, anyway. Also, pretty girl smiling, even if she was a sarcastic, moody witch. (Though frankly Hawaiian holidays had mellowed her considerably.)

Some weeks later, having had near-endless hallucinatory Hawaiian holidays and a freeloading woman eating his hot pork for weeks on end, the daydream potions were starting to run out. While she didn't contribute to the luau, she was prepared to snooze lying against him. Back-to-back. Which was rather pleasant, really. And didn't lead to self-loathing. The odd dream about blondes in bikinis, but that wasn't really a medical problem.

"Potter?" asked Greengrass from behind him.

"Mmm?" asked Harry, enjoying the view of the very blue sea.

"Do you think I've got serious mental problems?" she asked.

"Well, you're not the one dating Malfoy," Harry quipped, and she elbowed him. "Prat. Be serious."

"I suspect, given that you stated you had gone off relationships, that you do have a problem, yes," said Harry, trying to be responsible. Apart from the heavy doses of hallucinatory potions.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, "It's warm, the palm trees are waving, there's a luau tonight with dancing."

She was right, the day felt better in Hawaii. And whenever there was dancing Harry grudgingly joined in. Being Hawaii, there was nobody to laugh at the first dozen times he danced badly. And it's not like he didn't learn how to dance better, or anything. Harry nearly 'hmf'd'. She'd cured his hated of dance. There was real potential there to treat problems. Not like Ginny's paranoid suspicious, but… lots of things. Probably not poor Greengrass though.

"I was thinking," said Greengrass, "If I liked a man, and he seemed pleasant and kind, and showed no signs of being a closet pervert… that I might… snog him and see how things go."

For some inexplicable reason, that unexpected news, that Greengrass, who was probably the person Harry spent ninety percent of his time in reality leaning against, (though he was generally hallucinating that he was in Hawaii on holiday, doing stuff, not leaning against her, at least in his head) was starting to get over her traumatic past and was considering snogging someone, didn't make Harry particularly happy. He felt like his hands and feet wanted to claw up, and his throat felt tight.

Harry choked out, "That's… certainly progress."

Greengrass sighed. "I um, I'm sorry I tried to rope you into a marriage contract, or a concubinage agreement. It's just, my experience of men had been." She sighed again, "awful. You didn't need to be bribed, you were just nice. You're a good healer, Harry."

"Thanks," said Harry, who was feeling very agitated, and wanted to know who this bloke was, so he could go call him names. Or curse him with boils and baldness, purely hypothetically speaking.

"But I do want to know why Weasley dumped you?" she said.

Harry sat quietly. And got elbowed for his attempt to ignore the question.

"Really? Did you um… ask her do so really filthy things then?" she asked.

"What? Of course not." said Harry.

"Oh," said Greengrass. "While I could ask questions all night – you could just tell me."

Harry sighed.

"Oh god, Granger?" she asked.

"No, she's my friend." said Harry "Besides, Hermione would have driven me mad. She used to go on about how I should be doing more."

"And she's stopped?"

"Well, she's conceded that being a healer is actually a legitimate thing for me to do," said Harry.

"Mmm."

"After healing you and your sister actually."

"How very generous of her" said Greengrass. "That explains how the annual tax bill never goes down."

Harry felt that was a bit mean; the Ministry funded all sorts of almost useful things, like St Mungo's, for example, though they could cut all funding for Gobstones and Harry would be pleased. It so wasn't a sport. The only redeeming feature of it was that gobstone players rarely came into St Mungo's with injuries. Not that there was anything wrong with Quidditch. It was cultural.

"Potter?" asked Greengrass. "The war had only been over a few weeks and suddenly you and her aren't in photos. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Harry. Because he only ever had to Ron and Hermione, and not much.

"Potter, it's been years and years, and frankly, you're a mess. Go on, tell me. I actually want to help you. You know, because you're a friend, and may have healed a fatal curse on my sister, little stuff." said Greengrass. Harry wondered if sarcasm was life-threatening, because Greengrass seemed to have a pretty terrible case of it.

"Ginny um," said Harry.

"What, wanted to get married?" asked Greengrass. Harry held down a sob with effort. "No," he said. "She um. A lot of stuff happened in the war, okay."

"What, did you cheat on her?" asked Greengrass bluntly.

"Of course not!" said Harry crossly. He was tempted to elbow her in the back, but wasn't sure how that might end.

"By the way she snogged you in the great hall, she didn't cheat on you," said Greengrass. "So what happened?"

"You can't tell anyone," said Harry.

Greengrass snorted.

"You can't tell anyone," Harry, repeated. "Your word."

"I promise," she said. "I really didn't pick you for trouble with your wand."

"I don't have trouble with my sodding wand," said Harry, giving her a shove.

"Okay. Seriously What?" she said.

"In um, second year, the whole Heir of Slytherin thing," said Harry.

"You stopped that? I heard it was Lockheart."

Harry took a deep breath "He was a liar and a fraud, used to memory charm people and steal their achievements. Ginny um… she was given a cursed dairy by Mr Malfoy. Really dark curse."

"Oh god. Did it do permanent damage or something?"

"She was possessed by it," said Harry. "That was the heir of Slytherin."

"A Gryffindor?"

"A… Voldemort possessed her, okay." said Harry.

"Mmmm, and you um, ended up in the hospital wing. Did you somehow save her?"

"Well, oh course. Ron was with me – it's not like we were going to let his little sister get murdered." said Harry.

"You saved her life… that's kinda romantic," she said.

"Nah it wasn't," said Harry. "Anyway, in the war, because… complicated reasons that are probably a state secret or something, I got possessed. Well, in the battle of the Atrium after fifth year exams, really. Dumbledore saved me, and that was the first time."

"First… time," said Greengrass. "More than once?"

"He um… let's say when he tried to kill me as a child, we ended up being connected," Harry sighed. "Thing is, Ginny knew he was immortal, and after the war she um, she started to …"

Harry stopped and thought about the look on her face as she called him Tom. It had really hurt, but now it was just an ache like the basilisk bite on his arm. In cold weather it ached, but mostly he just kept on living.

"She thinks what?"

"That I lost the war. That Tom won, that he's possessing me," said Harry bluntly, tearing off the mental band-aid.

"Ugh," said Greengrass. She was silent for ages "That would do your head in." she said. "Yours and hers. Of course, for an immortal Dark Lord, you're choosing a pretty slow way to take over Britain, one St Mungo's patient healed at a time. I suppose in fifty years or so everyone would like you – not that everyone didn't at least pretend to like you after the war ended."

"Well till we wrecked it, he was immortal," said Harry.

"Hang on – you were undoing he-who-should-not-be-named's immortality – that's why you weren't at Hogwarts for Seventh year?"

"Well, and avoiding being thrown in Azkaban," said Harry.

"That was really big bounty," she said.

"Yes I had a big one," said Harry. Greengrass snorted. "Enormous" she said, snorting.

"Well, you need to go see her – this is really eating away at you," said Greengrass. Harry felt that she was totally wrong. Compared to having a Horcrux in your head it was just a minor annoyance.

"I couldn't possibly – she'll hex first and call the Aurors," said Harry.

"Fine," Greengrass said rather crossly. "I'll go see her then."

"Would you?" croaked Harry.

"Oh for god's sake Harry, you saved my sister's life, and mine, of course I'll go talk to your sodding ex." said Greengrass.

"You don't have to pay me back for that – " started Harry

"I consider you a friend, Potter," said Greengrass "Friends don't let friends suffer."

"Look I'm not suffering, I'm quite over it," said Harry.

Greengrass huffed out "men," and left.

-=0=-

Daphne managed to organise to meet Ginny Weasley, Quidditch sensation, by dint of going to a presser and paying for a drink.

When she explained what was going on, Weasley glared at her. "Really, he put you up to this? He's not who he says he is!"

"Look, Weasley, he's a sodding healer. Does that sound like the sort of thing a dark lord would do?"

"I… I've spent a lot of time and effort getting over Harry," said Weasley, with a sniffle. "I can't… I can't go back."

"Nobody's asking you to go back, just… give him a chance, let him talk to you?" asked Daphne.

"Why are you helping him, of all people?"

"Oh of all people, well, I don't know? Because he saved my sister from a previously incurable curse? That might be why, or that he cured me from the same curse? Maybe I'm just selfish that way," said Daphne.

"And that didn't happen to involve dark magic, did it ?" said Weasley snidely.

"Approved and supervised by the minister herself, actually," said Daphne.

"Oh," said Weasley.

She chewed on her lower lip for a bit.

"You can't be sure he's not secretly plotting," she said.

"Yes I bloody can," said Daphne, rolling her eyes. "He finishes work, sleeps. God he works astronomical hours. On his days off he swigs daydream potions – the ones your brother makes, and hallucinates about being on a tropical island, on holiday."

"Surely he'd do some quidditch training, to keep his skills in," said Weasley.

"Never seen him bother," said Daphne.

"You… you spend time with him?"

"He's a friend. And the doctor I see most often," said Daphne. "To be frank, I thought I'd had a shitty life, but it's clear he was more of a mess than I was. Those bloody daydream potions are amazing though – I … I sleep decently, and I don't have nightmares." Daphne hesitated "Not about the time I got shot with a muggle gunne."

"You what?"

"Bank robbery – I run a bank, a very small bank for women, mostly. Muggle women – they need loans and when I had a muggle job, the girls I was working with would talk about the payday lenders – they make the fucking goblins look like a bunch of house-elves in tiaras."

"A muggle job? You?" said Weasley incredulously.

"I don't have good NEWTs, I'm not connected to anyone that made it through the war with a good reputation."

"I don't remember you from Hogwarts," said Weasley pointedly.

"I was two years ahead of you, and after fifth year my family fled to the continent," said Daphne. She sighed "Which yes, was cowardly, but not everyone has an Order of Merlin."

"So you, what? Went to Durmstrang?"

"Didn't do NEWTs, We lived my grandmother's medieval stone house," said Daphne. "The plaster was falling off the walls in the room I shared with my little sister."

Weasley frowned and sipped from the glass with the little umbrella. "Oh. I… assumed you were rich?"

"Rich? We were almost broke after the war," said Daphne. "When we came home to Britain, we had no money left. I got some utterly shit jobs, which meant I got beaten up, and Healer Potter mended me up."

"You should have complained to the DMLE – they're not corrupt now," said Weasley.

"Yes, your brother the Auror, I know," said Daphne. "It was a muggle job, and a dodgy one. And before you get fucking judgemental, it wasn't illegal."

"Oh. And now you've got a bank? Must have been super dodgy," said Weasley, tossing her head and flicking her flame-red hair. Daphne envied the way it floated. Still, her hair was miles better since the potions thing.

"I needed money to pay for a cure for my sister, well, and me – we got what the doctor called a um… gene-linked leukaemia." said Daphne. "Potter saved our lives by referring us to muggle healers, and then had the sodding cheek to work out a magical cure. Still, it meant not risking my sister dying as she was cured."

Weasley looked her up and down rather dismissively "And you want him to get over his ex," she said coolly.

Daphne let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. "Harry's a friend. He was really helpful, and after he stopped being sarcastic, got us started on finding a cure. The witches in my family have been dying of this curse for centuries. It's cured now. I don't fancy him – after my second husband I don't really want another one."

"Second husband?"

"I was a stupid teenager," admitted Daphne. "And I have a knack for picking the very worst men. As a reference you might understand, after my second husband, I dated Blaise Zabini. God, what a mistake that was."

"He's good-looking and rich," said Weasley snidely.

"A terrible human being. And given that I found out my second husband was a Voldemort supporter after I married him… I really mean terrible."

"You what?" said Weasley, slopping some of her drink on the floor.

"It never came up. We lived in a magical area, so we didn't get talking about muggles. Then he decided to go to Britain. He said it was business. I got a notification from the Ministry after the battle of Hogwarts. I cried, I was so happy to hear he was dead." admitted Daphne.

"You were… married to… one of them?" Weasley shook her head. "So you're one of them, huh."

Daphne shook her head. "Best friend – best friends are half-bloods, got some muggle-born mates, and lots of work friends that are muggles. And I make sure muggle women can get payday loans at decent rates, not the bullshit the other lenders charge. They charge more than goblins, can you believe that?"

"More than Goblins? But mum always says never - "

"– Borrow from a goblin. Yeah, dad always says that. Well, 'cept when the Ministry wanted six hundred galleons in ninety-eight and we didn't have it."

"Wha?" asked Weasley, frowning.

"To fund reconstruction, any family who'd been on the tax rolls back in ninety-five as owning a substantive business were levied six hundred a year for reconstruction."

"But then you would have money."

"We left, there was nobody running the business, and we needed money to move, to live, and grandmama did not let father free-load. He wasn't family, you see. And then I wanted out of her house, and… getting married costs money."

"You're a stupid, good-looking witch," said Weasley rudely. "You're not gay are you? It's just some of the girls on the team?"

"No, I'm not gay, I just … I've had it with men," said Daphne. "And I'm not stupid, I just… grandmama's bankers came to visit often – she was broke-er than we realised, and she thought it was a capital idea for me to marry one of their family – get us family rates,"

"She sold you," said Weasley. "You weren't even seventeen, were you?"

"Course I was. Two weeks past," said Daphne, feeling her ears warming up.

"What happened to your first husband?" asked Weasley, taking another sip.

Daphne waited till she was swallowing. "He died in bed, heart attack." Weasley choked gratifyingly on the swallow of whatever that drink with the umbrella was.

Daphne allowed herself a small, smug smile.

"Cow," said Weasley, coughing, but her eyes glinted with good humour. "You're Harry's friend? Surely you fancy him?"

"He's a moody, sarcastic sod," said Daphne. "And these days has an infinite number of revolting hospital stories." If she ever imagined Harry Potter shirtless in her bed of an evening, that was between her, her lack of self-respect, and her terrible taste in men.

"Hmm. He can owl me," said Weasley dismissively, and waving one hand, to make it clearer.

"Oh – in case you ever wonder, witch to witch, do Not date Zabini, ever. It's… what does Potter say, medically inadvisable." said Daphne, standing and leaving. She felt doubly virtuous. And if Weasley was dumb enough to date Zabini to find out later, she'd find out… and discover that Daphne had been honest, hopefully before he did anything too beastly. She shivered at the recollection.

Daphne felt extremely virtuous when she told Potter, sitting on his sofa, he stared at her in disbelief.

"She… said I can owl her?" he croaked, looking like she'd hung the moon and stars.

Daphne rolled her eyes, and gulped daydream potion. Ukulele music swelled and she forgot all about her troubles, or Potter's popular, famous ex.