CHAPTER: 2 THE GIFT OF JAMES
Harry didn't know what could make him so sullen today. It was not every day that his fifth birthday was celebrated, but unlike most children his age, this special day aroused less enthusiasm in him than before. His last birthday had already been quite painful, and this one was even worse. The fault lay not with the weather outside the house, but simply with his brother, although unintentionally, and with his father in particular.
If two years ago, father and son got along relatively well, since that Halloween night, James' attitude towards him had changed dramatically. The supposed destruction of Voldemort by Matthew had, as if, shattered the weak relationship existing between them. His father, according to Dumbledore, had begun to proclaim loud and clear how wonderful his younger son was, by royally ignoring Harry's presence. The day after that sad night, James had, with Dumbledore's support, undertaken to announce to the entire wizarding world that Matthew had defeated the greatest dark wizard on Earth by himself and only a year away.
The newspapers reported this information at length, and in no time, the Potters made headlines in the press, both British and foreign. The sudden popularity of his son seemed to have gone to his head, and besides, his head already voluminous with his oversized ego was soon going to implode according to Lily's own words. Perhaps that was why James wanted to give the image of a perfect family to journalists, by continually displaying himself in the company of his wife and younger son in all possible public places, much to the dismay of his wife who was really not a woman who liked to be harassed wherever she went.
James, however, forgot one detail in his plan: Harry. Nothing else mattered in his eyes except Matthew, and the rest was for him superfluous. Harry not being able to give him what he wanted, among other things, fame, he simply ignored it, and this for a long time. Even the birth of Rosalyn Potter, Harry and Matthew's younger sister, was almost invisible to him. A height. His attitude troubled Lily a lot, who very often blamed him for his lack of attention to his two other children; James replied by telling her to do just what Dumbledore asked him to do: Surround Matthew with love. Love. This is the crazy old man's theory that can explain how this one-year-old boy defeated Voldemort.
"How can love defeat a sorcerer? How can a simple feeling help to fight against an opponent? Love is only an emotion, not a power!"
In spite of her doubts, Lily did not manage to make Dumbledore and James hear reason. Moreover, Dumbledore retorted to this that love could allow creating strong protective barriers resulting from a very old magic.
"In this case, why would hate not allow it? It is an emotion even more vivid than love! If we believe your words, Dumbledore, each emotion could protect against bad spells if it is strong enough!"
What Dumbledore was once again countering by showing an unreasonable machismo:
"This kind of discussion is not about women. It's too complicated a subject for you. Now, do what I told you, and you'll see that Matthew's power will only grow stronger."
What power? Did he mention the sudden appearance of magic around the core of his younger son as he had discovered, and which had just as suddenly disappeared a few days later? What a joke. And to say that he put this sudden disappearance on the account of Lily's lack of love for her son. Sometimes Lily wondered if this old man should not think about retiring instead of saying such nonsense.
The only positive point in this case was that Voldemort's disciples were discreet from that evening, when they were not simply arrested. Peter Pettigrew in particular was arrested the next day by a group of sorcerers from the Ministry of Magic in the company of Remus Lupin, Harry's godfather. The man, a small man with dirty hair and a small, chubby figure, had been the guardian of the Potter secret, the one that allowed this family to live in peace thanks to the spell of fidelities established between him and the Potter. But what no one would have imagined is that this little man could truly be a servant of the lord of darkness and betray the one who had been a friend of his at school. However, if he wished to be seen by his master and his disciples, he quickly dismayed. Not only was his master defeated, but in addition, it was he who led him to his loss. Suffice to say that his life risked becoming a real ordeal. He welcomed his arrest with a slight relief, short-lived relief thinking of the Azkaban prison in which he would probably end his days.
The traitor judged and condemned, life could resume its course, but it was far from the long quiet river that Harry could imagine. From the indifference of his father, he quickly passed to a growing hatred on his part towards him, most often caused by disputes between him and Lily about his behavior towards him and Rosalyn. The first slap was slapped on her just a few months later, while Harry had accidentally broken one of Matthew's toys by walking on it. Since then, James has taken great care to give her a correction for anything and everything, most often when Lily or even her parents were not there to yell at her.
« It is with my fists that I will eventually teach you where your place is, » threatened him very often.
His little sister did not undergo this kind of correction, still happy. James was a father with very little presence for her and in truth only allowed her a few minutes a day of her time. The rest of the day was devoted largely to his second son, whose praise he never dried up. Even birthdays became a calvary as a result: James being the manager of the Potter accounts bearing his name, he was buying a real mountain of gifts from Matthew, while Harry received only three last year: From his mother, his godfather, and his grandparents.
That's partly why Harry slightly dreaded this new birthday party. The disappointment of seeing the meager presents he would have in comparison with what Matthew would get would make him angry despite himself. He was jealous, he did not hide it, and after all, there was something to it. Finishing tying his shoes, he contemplated for a few seconds his face in the mirror of the dressing table of his room, this face that he hated so much. There he saw a younger replica of James, his tousled hair, his long nose, his square chin, and especially his glasses. Merlin, that he hated his reflection. Even the scar he had inherited from that sad Halloween night disgusted him, like a memory of the evening when his life had taken a wrong turn.
"It's not the time to rehash the bad memories, Harry," he muttered for himself.
Still talking alone, my darling? He asked his mother in the doorway.
She wore a rather loose dress of the same green as her eyes, the kind of clothing that the great ladies in the European royal courts used to wear all the time; Lily hated it and rarely wore it. In his hands, a small gift certainly wrapped for him that he pretended not to see.
"Sorry," he apologized flatly, "I cursed these shoes that tighten my feet too much."
"It might be time to go for a ride on Traverse's way in this case," she said with amusement as she came to sit on her bed right next to him. "Happy birthday, darling."
"Thank you, Mom," he said before she squeezed him against her to suffocate him. "You grow so fast," she muttered to herself, her eyes on the wave.
"Mom, I'm choking!"
Lily realized that putting her son's head against his corset was not a very good idea. So she hurried to release her son, apologizing for the inconvenience. "Here is your gift," she said kindly, handing him the present. "You'll open it tonight, okay? At the moment, we do not have time for this; the guests will not delay to arrive. Remus left me his yesterday because he can't come today."
"Because of the full moon?" he asked with a slight hint of disappointment.
"Among other things, yes. I put it in my room above the cabinet. I'll give it to you later. Well, what if we went down now?"
Harry nodded and, passing one last time his hand through his hair to try to flatten them, he accompanied his mother like a gentleman to the ground floor, offering her his arm. Fortunately, the staircase was large enough for two people; otherwise, they would have looked ridiculous.
At the bottom of the steps were James and Matthew, who, like Harry, wore very distinguished costumes, although, as Harry later noted, that of his little brother seemed much more beautiful and therefore expensive than his own. "You are superb," James said, tenderly kissing his wife while royally ignoring his eldest son. "Mom! Mom! Guess what! Sirius gave me a Nimbus 1800! And Dad told me he was going to start work on a Quidditch field at the bottom of the park! And you should see the gift Professor Dumbledore gave me! A training wand for a young wizard! He managed to lift the ban on using magic on me by pleading my case to the ministry!"
"Matthew! We said that you would only open your gifts when all the guests were present!" Lily rebelled.
Far from being embarrassed, his son simply smiled at Harry, as if to taunt him for not having so much privilege. Although both were brothers, Harry, to be honest, had a hard time with his little brother. High-minded, pretentious, authoritarian, whiny, and deceitful, he had, so to speak, nothing to please. Yet everyone bowed down to him as if they saw the messiah in person before them.
Harry especially saw him as a little moron no taller than three apples and boasting of a feat he could not even remember. He himself had no memory of the evening. Too bad in a way; it would have allowed him to know how this idiot had managed to end Voldemort.
If there was one thing that Matthew could not stand, it was indifference to him. This is why Harry pretended not to have noticed his small grin and rather questioned his mother; his father wouldn't even answer him anyway.
"Where is Rosalyn, Mom?"
"In the garden, I think; she was playing with the house elves. Besides, I'll do well to see how she's doing. A just now!"
Hardly was it far away that the atmosphere changed radically around Harry. Before he even realized it, James had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed him against the wall under Matthew's amused eyes.
"Your perfect little son number may be working with your mother, but I see clearly in your game, my boy. Now I want to warn you: If you ever dare to disturb Matthew's birthday party in any way, I will make you bitterly regret it, believe me."
"Do I have to remind you that today we also celebrate my birthday, or have you also forgotten it as everything related to me?" he replied.
His moment of audacity cost him dearly, and a slap later, he was ordered to make himself invisible on his way to the first floor. The landing was an excellent viewpoint anyway, and Harry, once up the steps, sat quietly, looking at the entry lobby from where the dozens of guests would arrive. The former made their appearance quickly and, for once, Dumbledore arrived first in one of his usual eccentric dresses. Today he had obviously opted for canary yellow. The old man could seem to all as a sympathetic being to whom one owed the respect that was due to him, but Harry did not like the director of Hogwarts. After all, it was because of him that Matthew was decreed to be the chosen one of a prophecy and therefore responsible for the life he was currently leading. Should he thank him for the blunders he had taken since that day? Certainly not. Dumbledore was, in Matthew's eyes, the equivalent of a grandfather, while for him, this old senile represented nothing but a black dot in his existence.
A friendly hug from Matthew and a handshake offered by James, a handshake, Professor Dumbledore took a slight step towards the park behind the manor, probably to find Lily and, why not, reproach her once again for her lack of affection towards Matthew. Another bell-ringing five minutes later, and Sirius Black made his appearance in turn.
"I hope not to be late; I have not seen the time pass! I had a dream night, James! You should see all the little French cats that can be found in the shallows of London! Merlin, they're really not as stuck as the English!"
Sirius seemed to have momentarily forgotten the presence of a three-year-old right next to him, but his clumsiness was incurable anyway. He and James immediately engaged in a contest of jokes more stupid than the others, to which his godson mingled. Internally, Harry was very happy to have inherited Remus as a godfather. At least he didn't spend his time pitting and giving the impression of being as mature as a ten-year-old. He had another cat to whip after all, and his lycanthropy was already enough of his time like that.
The front door opened and closed at regular intervals, while each new guest made an appearance. James, for once, had set himself the idea of welcoming the newcomers himself by standing near the door to wait for the arrivals. Every time the door opened, a smile almost too sincere to be true was displayed on his face, as he firmly shook the hands of the men or elegantly kissed the ladies' hands. Matthew stood next to him, trying to mimic him as a little model boy. His repeated bows may have made him look completely ridiculous, but his notoriety eclipsed his clumsiness, and no one held him tight many times when, wanting to appear well-mannered, he almost accidentally fell while tangling his legs. Everyone preferred to be ecstatic about the boy-who-lived and shook the hand of him who had supposedly saved the world from sorcerers.
Harry, who had meanwhile descended, thinking that James would do nothing wrong against him in front of his guests, stood apart from the other two, standing near the stairs and nonchalantly leaning against the wall. Every time a person passed by, he greeted her politely, but, more often than not, no one answered him. It was just that wizards and witches noticed. Twice, however, individuals more curious than others asked him who he was without suspecting for a moment that he was the eldest son of the Potters. Wounded inside by the fact that in the eyes of the magical world, he did not exist, he was content to answer that he was a distant cousin of Matthew who came for his birthday. Having to be interrogated by people who had nothing to do with him by revealing his true identity was of no interest to him at all. His brother already had his head swollen enough to tell everyone how wonderful he was; he said he did not intend to become like him by announcing to be the elder brother of the chosen one.
He was, therefore, as discreet as possible, but despite everything, the effacement he was showing was put to the test by the arrival of a new family in the manor.
He had long since stopped counting new entrants; perhaps they were the fiftieths, or even the hundredths, but unlike most of the completely hypocritical guests raving about the three-year-old boy opening the door for them, they were doing it in the most total sobriety. The family was made up of four people: a man, his wife, and their two daughters. Harry had never seen them, but the woman, with her beautiful blond hair and blue eyes, gave him the vague impression of a veela, and this sublime magical creature dazzles people with its beauty. Women like her, he didn't see every day. His oldest daughter, about three years old, was his portrait spit up to the smallest detail. She looked even more like an angel in her little white dress embroidered with lace and her sparkling smile. To his astonishment, this radiant smile was addressed to him. It was the first time that someone noticed his presence and, above all, smiled at him so kindly. He tried awkwardly to respond to her friendly gesture, but his smile must have seemed ridiculous because the girl burst out laughing.
"Merlin, this girl is sublime," thought he well despite himself.
The other girl must have been the same age as Rosalyn and had inherited her father's brown hair, but she too was especially beautiful for her young age. Curled up in her mother's arms, she timidly looked at James and Matthew and even opened her eyes as she set her gaze on him. Harry didn't know why, maybe because of his little brother's round figure, but he failed to burst out laughing when he saw the air of this little girl.
Greengrass bitterly greeted James by voluntarily omitting to call him by his title, something he had not done so far.
"What a pleasure to see you and your family," Greengrass said.
"Pleasure is shared," he replied in the same tone. "I very much enjoyed being invited by your wife to this small party organized for your son. We're not late, I hope?"
"Of course not, you are even on time, and…"
"Hey! I am here! I should not be forgotten!" Matthew rebelled, losing his patience.
"Oh yes, that's true! No need to introduce you to Matthew Potter, the savior of our world. You must surely already know the feat he has managed to accomplish! A true champion seed!" James boasted as he ruffled his son's auburn hair.
"Enchanted, Matthew. I am Lord Greengrass, and behold…"
"I know who you are," he interrupted her abruptly. "You have already introduced yourself to my father…"
Harry blew in spite, finding that his brother obviously did not know the customs of noble families, especially the one where it was customary to introduce oneself to each person.
"You're a dead man, aren't you?" he asked with affront. "My father once told me that you were affiliated with them."
His question immediately made Mr. Greengrass blush with anger, who looked furiously at the little boy in front of him as if he wished at this moment to slap him for his insult. Nevertheless, he did not do it well and tried as well as badly to keep some control over his voice.
"These are just naughty rumors spread by dishonest people. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to know where the other guests are?"
"In the garden," James replied. "You just have to follow this corridor that will take you directly there."
Without asking for their rest, Lord Greengrass and his little family left James and his "adorable" son to head to the park. By the way, Harry greeted them politely and, for once, they answered him just as friendly. The little blonde, by the way, did him the immense honor of giving him a reverence, to his astonishment.
"Does she laugh at me?" wondered he as she disappeared in the company of her parents through the garden door.
Eager to know more, but especially to no longer feel the negative auras of his father and his brother, Harry followed suit and found himself a few seconds later under the radiant July sun. The park, extending over several hundred meters and consisting only of grass and a few shrubs, was bustling with people. All these people really went through the front door? Mystery. From where he was, he could see Matthew's mountain of gifts resting on one of the many tables surrounding what appeared to be an improvised dance floor. Dozens of round tables were also arranged here and there in a precarious order, and on each of them, dozens of dishes and trays were within the reach of anyone. He's not, however, he had no more time to observe who would be the first to succumb to the delicious dishes of the house elves because he was suddenly pushed violently by Matthew with a simple shoulder stroke.
"And here is the highlight of the show!" James exclaimed by appearing at his side.
Not wasting time, the two plunged into the mass of people to engage in conversation and once again vent the prowess of his son. Harry preferred to slip away again by going to stand away from the party, near the forest surrounding the estate on a tree stump.
"And say it's my birthday... I couldn't have dreamed better," he internally said ironically.
The party was in full swing, and never before had so many people been in the Potter mansion garden. The most extravagant hats stood alongside the most expensive and showy dresses one could imagine. Here and there, old people discussed the latest technological and political innovations, women exhibited their latest jewelry acquisitions, and children ran between adult groups shouting cheerfully.
In the middle of this beautiful world, Harry felt a little alone. His mother had to stay with James to show everyone the image of a harmonious and close-knit couple around their prodigy son, and his daughter little Rosalyn, an adorable girl with auburn hair, remained constantly with her so as not to get lost. Harry could see her from where he was hiding shyly behind Lily's dress when someone came to greet them. He knew that this kind of event strongly displeased him, but no one would take into account the state of mind of a two-year-old girl. He had no trouble finding his brother, quietly unwrapping his gifts without even waiting for the consent of his parents and while proudly showing the flock of young children clustered around him the dearest presents he had received. James, while conversing with illustrious strangers, looked from time to time at Matthew, with a smile on his face, apparently delighted to see his son so fulfilled and idolized. His attitude greatly displeased Harry because when it came to him, his father looked at him not with love but rather with bitterness, seeing anger. Favoritism could be so obvious to a person with a closer interest in this family. James besides had twice shot Harry from a look to say "remember my threat." Lily was obviously not aware of the threats made, already that she did not accept that James raises his hand on him. In truth, this kind of worldliness already put her in all her states; she would probably not even realize the strange behavior of her eldest son, who is watching with a sullen air the parade of people in front of him without thinking of mingling with them. Harry would have wished at this moment to be like everyone else, to celebrate quietly with only his family and his godfather his birthday, to open his gifts offered by his parents, he said, enjoy a delicious cake cooked by his mother, try his new toys with his little sister, but Harry unfortunately did not have the chance to live in a normal family, he said, especially since his birthday was full of bad luck, it was the same day as his little brother's birthday. Cruel destiny.
"Are you bored?"
The little fluffy voice pulled him out of his torpor as he slightly jumped at the appearance of the same little girl as just now. She smiled kindly as she settled next to him, a plate of cakes in her hand.
"What? Oh, no, actually I was thinking."
"Were you thinking about it?" she repeated innocently. "You need to get away from people to do this?"
"Is it your business?" he replied harder than he would have liked.
"I just wanted to know," she said without looking hurt by his tone. "My mom says I'm very curious, but it's not a bad thing to learn more about people, right?"
"Not really, as long as you don't get too curious and want to know all the secrets of the person you're talking to."
The girl simply nodded her head and quietly took one of the appetizers she was holding to quickly put it on. Quite involuntarily, Harry's belly began to gurgle at this vision, a detail that did not escape the little blonde girl who immediately burst out laughing.
"Are you hungry for it?"
"A little, yes," he said with an embarrassed air.
"Serve yourself in this case; I took plenty!"
She handed him the plate from which he immediately served himself. The house elves of the manor had surpassed themselves again on this occasion.
"Thank you. What is your name again?"
"Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass. And you're Matthew Potter's brother, aren't you?"
"How do you know that?" he surprised himself.
"You look a lot like your dad," she said. "It was obvious to me. What's your name?"
"Harry."
"Funny, I didn't know your dad and mom had a son older than Matthew before they came here."
"Few people know about it," he muttered bitterly. "In the eyes of all, I am the invisible boy, the one who could easily be confused with a coat rack, because his little brother is on the front page of all the newspapers. People only know Rosalyn because Mom got her soon after You-Know-Who's attack; otherwise, she'd be in the same situation as me."
Daphne noticed the distressed air Harry was displaying, so she made sure to quickly change the topic of conversation. This boy did not seem very happy from the first moment when she had laid eyes on him; it was better not to discuss untoward topics with him.
"In any case, it's a very nice party!" she exclaimed joyfully as she smoothed the sides of her dress. "I wish I had one like that for my birthdays! When is yours?"
"It's today."
"Today?! Were you born the same day as your brother? Sacred coincidence!"
"As you say."
"Happy Birthday then!" she exclaimed without worrying about the unfriendly tone Harry used. "Sorry, I don't have a gift for you. Besides, I didn't even bring one for your brother! But if you want, I can give you my cakes!"
"That's nice of you," he conceded, smiling at her. "You're the third person to wish me my birthday today. At least you don't jump on my bed and yell in my ears like my little sister, but you're the second to give me a gift with your own hands."
Daphne simply answered his smile before putting the cookie tray directly in his hands while serving herself. The two of them remained silent for a few moments, watching the adults pass in front of them, choking at certain occasions to laugh, noticing a particularly ridiculous hat or dress.
"Why don't you have fun with the other kids?" he finally asked to break the silence.
"Why don't you do it yourself?"
"Because I have to stay away so as not to disturb my brother's party. I don't want someone to put a stupidity on my back that he would have done. So I stay here and I keep quiet."
The real reason was that he didn't want to incur James's wrath for daring to appear, but it was better not to talk about the stormy relationship between him and his father with Daphne.
"Well, I don't like other kids. They are stupid, and they play stupid games. I wish my friend Tracey Davis was here too; at least with her, we do more serious things."
"Like what?" Harry asked himself with amusement, wondering what two little girls could play.
"To the mother with our dolls," she replied most seriously in the world. "We also play big ladies by putting on our moms' clothes, but they are too big for us, so we try on their makeup. Sometimes we read books, but as we cannot yet read, we just look at the images, imagining what the book is about."
"If you want, I can show you the library of the manor after; we have hundreds of books! I could even read you one!"
"That would be great! But Tracey wasn't invited, so it'll be less fun. My mom told me it's because her dad did some naughty things and he's in jail. And then Tracey's mom, she's very sick, so Tracey has to stay with her all the time because she can't move."
"Your friend is very lucky to have you as a playmate. I have no one to play with," he confessed. "I spend my time with my mom reading books and helping her with her gardening, and I take care of my little sister when mom is busy."
"Why does no one want to play with you?" she questioned him with a sorrowful air.
"Because all children have eyes only for the great Matthew, the savior of humanity. The only time someone talks to me is to ask me who I am and if I wouldn't know a few little anecdotes about him."
"I don't like him, Matthew. He's mean, and he spends his time giving orders to people, taking himself for the leader. Just now he ordered me to bow down to him so I could talk to him!"
"It's quite his kind... You want to know a secret? I don't like him very much either, even though we are of the same blood. It makes us have one thing in common in a sense."
"True, a bit like friends, right? Say, you wanna be my friend?"
Becoming his friend? This is something Harry was never asked. Not that he was lonely and asocial, but no one paid attention to him, and James often kept him away from the small parties organized for his little brother during which many children came to play, to believe that his father did not want him to be attached to anyone. At the time, he wondered if the little girl next to him was not laughing at him or if he would have problems if he accepted his proposal. But until now, Daphne had been very kind to him and gave absolutely no impression of being a cruel person. As for James, well, his opinion was completely equal to him.
"I will be delighted," he said, smiling.
Daphne uttered a slight cry of joy and literally threw herself at him to give him a hug. By the way, she dropped the silver tray on the ground in a metal rumble, turning in their direction a few heads, but neither of them paid attention to it, at least until she realized that she had accidentally smashed a cake between herself and Harry.
"Oops," she simply says. "I'm sorry about your costume."
"It's no big deal," he assured her by dusting the task. "It's just a little sweet whipped cream; it comes off easily."
"What if we were going to play now?" she proposed by rising from the tree stump. "We just have to play cat!"
"I thought you weren't having fun playing silly games?"
"Yes, but it's more fun when you play with someone you like! And you're the cat!"
The little blonde disappeared a few seconds later in the middle of the crowd gathering in the park of the manor, quickly chased by Harry. The two played together for a long time, away from the other children and without worrying about the people around them and the problems they might have for such conduct. Their little merry-go-round, however, did not escape Lily's keen eye, who was discussing, ironically, with Daphne's mother.
"Who is this boy?" she asked as she looked curiously at Harry tickling Daphne. "Would he be related to your husband, my dear Lily? He looks very much like him. A nephew, maybe?"
"He's our eldest son," she said, trying to hide the pain she had by finding that once again no one seemed to know Harry. "He is two years older than Matthew."
"Your son? Merlin! I was not aware of! Are you hiding other kids in your drawers, Lily?" she asked mockingly.
"Great God, no! The second one already gives me enough work like this; I don't have time to think about having a fourth child!"
"I understand," replied Mrs. Greengrass in a compassionate voice. "Your son's fame must be painful to bear. I have the impression that your son and my daughter appreciate each other," she added, smiling in front of the joyful air of Daphne.
"It would seem so," Lily agreed, smiling as well. "I have rarely seen him so happy with another child as I do today. Harry's more of a lone wolf, you know? He prefers the company of books to that of other people. His father totally disapproves of his attitude, but I tend to encourage him to continue on this path. Learning new things and acquiring new knowledge is not a bad thing in itself."
Ms. Greengrass nodded politely, and both engaged in a lengthy conversation dealing largely with the best possible way to properly educate a child. Speaking of children, Harry and Daphne finally decided to take a walk in the mansion after Harry offered to show her his latest storybooks. Both were in front of the door containing the huge library of the Potters, and after a nod to each other, they pushed together the thick wooden panel. The manor library was a large room the size of two dining rooms side by side, in which rows of furniture lined up against the walls exposed to the eyes of the curious the hundreds of works they owned. A spiral staircase allowed going up one floor, where there were still other shelves. Several tables placed in the center of the room were lit by candlesticks and two huge chandeliers attached to the ceiling. The room gave the impression of being very warm with all these red and golden colors and the orange light reflecting on the walls lined with motifs representing lions and phoenixes.
"It's beautiful!" Daphne exclaimed, mouth wide open. "I prefer green anyway."
"I spend most of my time here," Harry explained to her as he walked past the shelves. "There are hundreds of books from our world and the Muggle world that talk about pretty much anything you want," he said, "from politics to the history of wizards, to books by writers and even children's books. Besides, we have a nice collection of books by Muggle authors. You know the fables of 'Jean de la Fontaine'?"
"No, what is it about?"
"Come see, I'll show you."
He led her to a shelf further away where the said fables were. Looking for a few seconds for the book, he finally put his hand on it and motioned for her to sit on the chair near the fireplace that Lily usually occupied. Both took their places and began to read carefully the various stories told, embellished from time to time by the childish comments of Daphne.
"How can a frog swell to the point of exploding? It doesn't make sense!"
"It's a story; it's imaginary facts. But in fact, it only serves to make the reader understand something. There is a kind of morality in truth that allows those who read this fable to reflect on their actions. For example, here, it is that you must not take yourself for what you are not to try to impress another person by making him believe that you are superior to him," he said, "because it can sometimes cost us our lives."
"Like Matthew, for example," said Daphne with a sneer. "He thinks he's the most beautiful boy in the world, the smartest kid of his age, the most gifted, the most talented, when in truth, he's a jerk!"
"In a way, I cannot help but agree," Harry said, giggling slightly.
"What about the cicada and the ant? What is the morality?"
"There, it would be that before thinking about having fun, you must first work. 'Any trouble deserves salary,' so to be able to have fun, you have to deserve it, and therefore work. Playing is actually a reward. It could also be a criticism of people who are not generous and who do not help people in need, especially when you see the selfish behavior of the ant."
"How do you know all this? Did you guess it?"
"No! My mother explained each of the fables to me. She says that it will allow me to see the mistakes not to be made in my behavior and my way of seeing things around me as well as the attitude of people towards me and towards others. It's a life lesson."
"Daphne?" suddenly called her father's voice in the hallway. "Daphne? Where are you, my darling?"
"I am here!"
Mr. Greengrass appeared in the doorway and seemed strangely relieved to see her. Daphne quickly pulled herself out of the chair and ran towards him, throwing herself on his legs to hug him.
"You gave me a great fright, young lady! I was looking for you everywhere!"
"Sorry, Dad, but Harry wanted to show me his library and make me read some stories. He's very nice; he's my new friend!"
Her father turned to where Harry was and could not help looking at him in amazement and especially by wondering who could be this Harry with whom his daughter seemed to have fraternized. Like a stroke of fate, the father of this boy being unknown to him appeared in his turn in the room, the gloomy mine.
"Well, now that you've got your hands on your daughter, we're gonna be able to go now? I don't have time for this... What are you doing here?"
His disdainful tone was obviously addressed to Harry who immediately looked down at the menacing look of his father.
"I came to show my books to Daphne, Father."
"Say instead that you were looking for some way to ruin your little brother's birthday party. If you think I didn't notice the little joke book on one of the tables the other day, it's because you don't know me well. Your brother doesn't waste his time on stupid textbooks, so it can't be him."
"I-I swear it's not me…"
"I warn you, my boy: If ever the slightest stupidity happens during his birthday snack, you will receive the most beautiful correction of your life!" he threatened his father before signaling to Daphne's father to follow him.
"The two adults quickly disappeared into the hallway without giving Harry a single look. Only Daphne, in the arms of her father, addressed a greeting to him, to which he replied. This girl was like a ray of sunshine for him; this simple gesture had just made him forget, in an instant, the slander and threats of his father. Speaking of him, Harry thought he didn't seem to know his dear son very well. He knew that Matthew occasionally put his nose in books, but only those dealing with bad jokes to make or funny stories. In addition, Harry took good care after each reading to store his manual in the place where he had taken it, unlike his little brother, whose notion of storage was foreign to his vocabulary.
A squeaky door pulled him out of his reverie. The sound evidently came from the top floor, and the squeak could only belong to the door of James's office. Apparently, he and Mr. Greengrass were going to discuss an important topic, but Daphne's presence at that meeting intrigued him strongly.
Curiosity carried him away; he went out of the library and walked with a slight step towards the staircase leading to his destination. Along the way, he politely greeted his ancestors painted in sumptuous paintings while checking that the corridors he was taking were deserted. If he were surprised to spy on his father, who knows what could happen to him. Finally, after many efforts, including stepping over the creaky steps of the staircase, he found himself facing the office door. More and more intrigued, but especially curious to know what Mr. Greengrass and his father could do with a little girl in James' office, Harry slightly opened the door, which luckily did not squeak. The slight opening allowed him to have a perfect view of them, especially since Mr. Greengrass turned his back on him and prevented James from being able to see him. Daphne, she sat on her father's lap and played distractedly with her English women while shaking from time to time. He was surprised to contemplate her for long seconds, finding her, in spite of her young age, very pretty even from the back, but James' voice took him out of his reverie.
"Well, Greengrass, you said you absolutely wanted to talk to me, so I listen to you. I don't have much time to give you, you know; my son's birthday comes before this kind of banality."
"In that case, I'll get to the point, Mr. Potter. The end of the war may have restored a climate of peace to our community, but it was not the same for me. My family and I have always stated that I remained neutral during this conflict, even when the followers of You-Know-Who approached me to join their ranks. It is also for this reason that, like you, I preferred to hide to avoid possible reprisals. But some people in the ministry thought it good to see this act as a way for me to join the dark lord by pretending to want to protect my family. I've been under prosecution for almost a year now for things I haven't even committed! My mansion is almost constantly the subject of search, and most of my vaults were even blocked while research is done!"
"Let me guess, Greengrass," interrupted James in a voice that Harry found very unpleasant, almost mocking. "You would like me to intervene with you so that all these rumors stop, wouldn't you? That I tell everyone what a good family you make and that in no way will Voldemort's ideas ever interest you? You would really want me to use the influence of my name now that my son has defeated the most powerful black mage of the century in your favor? What will I get in exchange for this service?"
Mr. Greengrass began to nervously mumble words that Harry could not hear from where he was, but apparently, the man's proposal did not seem to interest James, who began to laugh openly in front of him.
"10,000 Galleons and the hand of your eldest daughter against an advertisement being favorable to you? You're kidding, I hope? Matthew could be so much better than your child as a wife, and when it comes to money, that amount means almost nothing to me."
"I can only offer you this for now!" replied Mr. Greengrass in a slightly louder voice. "My money is currently blocked, I remind you!"
"It is a pity," said James in a falsely grieved tone. "You can't even imagine how many proposals like this I've had in the last few months. The Nott, Parkinson, Rosier, Zabini, even the Malfoys now spend their time wanting to invite us to their home to drink tea. I'm sure if their son would have been a girl, they would have made the same proposal to me as you, except that in addition they would have added a few zeros in terms of the amount to be paid. You will agree that compared to them, your proposal is more than pathetic."
Harry wondered why Mr. Greengrass had not already rushed to James to twist his neck when one saw the condescending tone with which he was addressing him. His father had really changed since that October night. Never before would he be addressed to anyone like that. James was a little pretentious at the time, but the one who was now sitting behind the desk was much worse. Too busy thinking about his father's new personality, Harry realized only too late that the door was opening little by little as he leaned on it, and, what was to happen happened; he lost his balance and sank heavily on the carpet of the room. Knowing full well that he had just been caught on the fact, he did not dare to look up and was content to remain motionless on the ground while waiting for his father to sermonize him, as was customary.
"If I expected that, now you start listening at the doors now? Please excuse me for a moment…"
His son could easily hear the heavy office chair scraping the floor as the footsteps, smothered by the carpet of James' shoes, gradually drew closer. Without warning, his father grabbed his hair hard and forced him to get up by shaking him.
"Stand up!" he ordered wickedly. "Who gave me a kid like that! Make me this kind of scene in front of a guest! What do I look like now, huh!?"
His father kept shaking him by pulling out a few strands of hair as Harry squealed painfully, feeling the tears coming to the edge of his eyes. Mr. Greengrass observed James' remonstrance in a shocked and scandalized manner, as well as his daughter, who gazed sadly at the young boy in front of her being abused.
"Forgive me, sir. I-I didn't want to listen! I came to ask you something!" lied Harry.
"Ah, yes? And what then!"
"I... I forgot!"
"At the right time! You've never been very good at lying to me, kid!"
Even before Harry realized it, James had just thrown him without further ceremony right next to Mr. Greengrass' chair, which startled him when he saw such a thing. Quickly resting his daughter on the floor, he set out to help Harry get up by taking his arm, but the young boy made a gesture of avoidance as soon as he put his hand on him.
"I'm not going to hurt you, boy. I just want to help you stand on end; you understand?"
Harry simply nodded his head and agreed to be put back on his legs by Daphne's father. The latter had approached him and was already handing him a handkerchief on which his name was sewn before sitting on his father's lap. James was now thinking about the repercussions of the little exchange he had just seen. So his son and this little girl seemed to like each other? It was comic for him. Lord Greengrass wanted to give the hand of this said girl to Matthew, hoping to save his skin. The idea of seeing his son marry such a girl seemed ridiculous to him, even if Daphne was very beautiful, it was necessary to recognize him. But what better way to humiliate a person you didn't like than to lower him or her below the ground? Why not make him marry his useless eldest son instead of his wife? The media blow would be almost zero, and the chances for Lord Greengrass to see this union on the front page of derisory magazines. Who would care about the engagement between the eldest daughter of an old family considered dark and a little boy completely unknown to the general public? Nobody. This is a good way to nullify the plans of Daphne's father, and a beautiful humiliation as a bonus.
"I just had a sudden idea, Greengrass. You absolutely wanted to see my name affiliated with yours to rule out any suspicion on you, didn't you? Well, I think I've found some ground for arrangement. How about you give your daughter's hand to my good-for-nothing eldest son?"
The proposal astonished at least the man who looked at Harry and James as if he did not seem to have understood the meaning of these words. Give her daughter in marriage to a boy older than her and without the slightest fame? James's offer was not at first sight very enticing, but the situation in which Daphne's father found himself unfortunately did not leave him many possibilities. His legal problems worked him day and night, and he was on the verge of losing all his homes for simply being in the company of death eaters, without his knowing it. How on earth could he have known that the Lestrange were followers of Voldemort? Bellatrix, although a little crazy on the edges, was nevertheless a charming woman; never could he have suspected that she was faithful to the lord of darkness… If he did not wish to end his days in a cell of Azkaban in his company, it was better to accept the 'offer from Harry's father.
And then he didn't know that boy, at least he knew just the bare minimum. He was the Potter's eldest son, and therefore the heir to their fortune. His daughter would lack nothing for this. In addition, he looked much calmer than his little brother, although the tyranny that James evidently displayed over him must have been there for many. Merlin knows what could have happened to Daphne if she had married Matthew. This boy would probably become a bad bugger in the future, especially when we see the heinous being he was already only three years old, and his daughter would suffer. But the young boy in front of him seemed much more honest and kinder. And above all, he and Daphne already knew each other. Their marriage will undoubtedly be much happier, and the happiness of her daughter came first. His choice was quickly made.
"Very well. I guess I have no other choice."
"We always have a choice, Greengrass," James said, sitting behind his desk while searching one of his many drawers. "You could have refused, but that way you would not have had the support of our family. However, I must warn you that in the eyes of almost everyone magical, this boy does not exist so to speak. You yourself have probably never heard of his existence before today. When it comes to fame, I think you can always wait. Anyway, this kid will probably never get anything in his life; he does not even have the stuff of a wizard worthy of the name… Prefers to spend his time with his nose in a book rather than behave like a good little boy," he muttered for himself.
Harry did not even pick up his father's insulting remarks against him and preferred to look sadly at the carpet under his feet. With a little attention, he could have seen the compassionate look of Daphne's father and daughter on him. Moments later, James came out of his drawer a thick parchment on which was written in bulk « Contract of magical marriage ». A few lines were already scrawled on it, with only a few holes in the sentences to drag the first names of the two future spouses. James himself began to fill the parchment by writing Harry's name in the corresponding places before dragging the sheet to Daphne's father, who did the same.
"You know what remains to be done now," James announced, suddenly carrying a paper cutter. "You, come here!"
Harry obediently approached his father with apprehension. He may have found that he was not moving fast enough, for he seized his arm forcefully to pull it towards him. Without even warning him, he raised the sleeve of his suit to the elbow and cut his skin at the wrist. The cut let out a large stream of blood that slowly flowed over the parchment that James had slipped under his arm as Harry groaned once more in pain as he held back from crying; that would give James a good reason to hit him again.
"To you now, though," James said almost with amusement as he slid the parchment and blade toward Daphne's father, who looked at James in a scandalized manner as he treated his son. "Be careful, it's very sharp."
"Daphne?" he timidly called her as she watched sadly as Harry tried his best to stop the flow of blood. "I want you to listen to me, please. I'm gonna have to give you a little wound on your hand so you can put your blood on the parchment. It'll sting you a little bit, but it'll be healed soon."
"Will I bleed like Harry?" she asked in a frightened voice.
"No, no, I swear to you. Go now, be a big girl."
"His daughter agreed and offered him the palm of her hand. Her father slid the blade over Daphne's skin as gently as possible so as not to harm her, then placed his hand, slightly bloody, above the parchment. A few drops fell on it, but it was far from equaling the immense bloodstain that Harry had formed on the contract. James wasted no time and took up the parchment again while taking out his magic wand. He repeatedly made complicated gestures above the sheet, tapping it from time to time with the tip of his wand.
Suddenly, the contract began to radiate a silver glow and floated a few moments above the desk, while the same phenomenon happened to Harry and Daphne. Two small filaments came out of the parchment and struck them with full force, but without doing them any harm. Then, just as suddenly as the appearance of this strange light, everything stopped, and the two children fell on their feet, or on her father's lap for Daphne. Deep down, something had changed; they could feel it, but they couldn't figure out what might have happened.
It was James who surprisingly gave them the answer to their questions. 'Their magic nuclei are now linked to each other. They will be able to feel the magical force of the other and occasionally provide it in case of a problem. An indestructible bond, as you know it so well. It should help them eventually,' he added, looking at Harry badly. 'Maybe with your daughter's magical power, he'll be able to produce some basic spells when it's time for him to go to Hogwarts. I will announce his engagement in the wizard's gazette soon; it should help you somewhat in your little personal problems, don't you think? I look forward to seeing the union between our two families make the headlines of all the country!'
The irony of James was evidently only making him laugh, for his burst of laughter was not followed by the other three. If James had realized that by signing this marriage contract, he would later make his son happy, perhaps he would not have, he said, but his reflection was unfortunately not pushed so far for him. For the moment, he preferred to savor this moment when he thought he had in a certain way humiliated Lord Greengrass by betrothing his daughter to an illustrious stranger, without knowing that later, he would bite his fingers. Oh yes, he would regret it."
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